Question: Soon it will be the holiday season, and the time to dread plane rides, family gatherings, and the inevitable questions: "What do you do?" and then "What do you teach?"
I'm a graduate student teaching English composition, but if I say so, the response is always, "Guess I'll have to watch my grammar. Heh heh heh!" There's no way to answer that, and I just want to groan or shrivel up. How can I better respond?
Answer: You are not alone. Miss Manners, the arbiter of etiquette for all things, noted a dozen years ago that "no occupation is safe from its share of maddeningly predictable comments and jokes." Being "terminally polite," Miss Manners always responds with a pleasant smile, until she is alone and "has to go and get her face defrosted."
And so Ms. Mentor has learned never to tell anyone that she is an advice giver. If she slips, she will be asked for advice ("How do I get my kid into Harvard?" or "May I wear mauve?"). Or she'll be blamed for the sins of her tribe ("I hate Dr. Phil").
Ms. Mentor would wish for you to be polite, because teaching is the noblest calling of them all. By your response, you can, perhaps, add a little civility to these barbarous times.
Indeed, Ms. Mentor is flummoxed and disheartened by the present war against teachers. We're told every day that public-school teachers, those overburdened and harassed creatures, are incompetent and tenured "fat cats." College professors, of course, are all jargon-spouting loonies who work only six hours a week and laze on their yachts all summer long. Ms. Mentor knows you've heard that song before.
When your public asks what you do, you can, of course, say that you're not a full-time grammar teacher. You probably moonlight doing something else, too—delivering, cooking, packing, phoning. But you do not want to open yourself to hostility and awkwardness. Besides lying ("I'm really a standup ichthyologist—I fish for compliments"), what can you do?
As with real life outside academe, there are unspoken conversational rules, and the conventions can save you. Anyone who asks, "How are you?" does not want to hear about your prostate or your pancreas (what Miss Manners calls "an organ recital"). You're supposed to answer, "Fine!"
Similarly, most adult conversationalists are practiced at the art of deflection. Accounting professors learn to tell seatmates inquiring about 401(k)'s that "I'm not a financial planner, sorry." Law professors have to laugh off the knee jerk, "You teach people to lie, cheat, and rob the poor, eh?" and say, "We only do that on TV."
Police-academy instructors learn to say, wearily, "I can't tell you how to get your traffic tickets fixed," and teachers of geography, math, and chemistry all learn to shrug off insults and misapprehensions ("Maps make me queasy!" and "I can't add!" and "Hey, I bet your students know how to make great designer drugs!")
Some teachers do come up with sprightly retorts. One theater professor, tired of "Oh, you put on plays, how cool is that!" introduces herself as a teacher of "critical-thinking skills and group problem-solving" through "history, aesthetics, criticism, and production"—which intrigues interesting people, and turns away the less-than-curious. Other teachers cut off the predictable response with their own success stories: "My students can parse a political party platform" or "We're working on a cure for malaria" or "I'm an expert on gerunds!"
But being tactful, upbeat, or resigned doesn't help when you're unwrapping your Christmas presents and someone says, "Wait till next year, when you've finished that silly graduate program and you can come back and teach here at Hometown College. Your Uncle Jim'll call 'em up and tell 'em to get your desk ready. We'll all be so proud of you!"
Meanwhile you're thinking about the job market in English—that once you finish your Ph.D., you'll send out hundreds of applications to anywhere in the country. Maybe you'll get an interview or two; maybe you'll even land a full-time teaching position for a year or two. But no more than a third of English Ph.D.'s will ever get the tenure-track jobs for which they're training. Most will, at best, be adjuncts, paid by the course, teaching at two or three colleges at once, barely able to afford a car, an apartment, a haircut, or new shoes.
But you probably ought not to say that. There's the teacher in you who wants to tell all and shout to the world about your feelings of betrayal. "I'm more than a grammarian and more than a peon! I could be a contender!"
Ms. Mentor urges you not to ruin everyone's holidays with your anger and grief. There will be time to break it to them gently. For now, let them love you.
And if you can't bring yourself to talk about your profession, then recall the advice that Kate O'Flaherty (later Chopin) put in her adolescent diary in 1869. "The art of making oneself agreeable in conversation," she wrote, consists of always looking "interested and entertained" while encouraging "your antagonist to talk about himself"—and "twenty to one, he will report you as one of the most entertaining and intelligent persons."
Deflect those tedious questions by encouraging your seatmates on the plane to expatiate on their work lives, their triumphs and sorrows. Especially if you're young and have never been outside of school, you will learn about the world of jobs outside the ivory tower, and you will be considered charming. Think of Susan Basalla (May), who did exactly that. Then she co-wrote (with Maggie Debelius) "So What Are You Going to Do With That?" Finding Careers Outside Academia (University of Chicago, 2007), and is now a successful consultant.
Ms. Mentor adds that encouraging others to speak is mentoring them. It is also one of the finest forms of teaching. You will be a better communicator if you listen, and you'll become a better teacher, and who knows? If you're really a conversational charmer, you may actually get a full-time job—and then have to brush up on your grammar.
Question: I understand that October was Exploding Head Syndrome Month. Are November and December more of the same, but sometimes less so, or not?
Answer: Yes.
Sage Readers: Ms. Mentor uses Thanksgiving to thank all the teachers and students and writers in her life, and yours. She also welcomes end-of-year reflections, rants, and queries, and wishes less complex lives upon those who've written her about knotty problems that even she, in her perfect wisdom, cannot disentangle, or sometimes understand. She cannot find you a lawyer, erase your Facebook misadventures, or end the iron rule of patriarchy.
Confidentiality is guaranteed, and identifying items in published letters are always masked and minced. They'll never know you're the mild-mannered one with the wicked imagination. They'll think you're the other one.
(c) Emily Toth
Comments
1. sross - November 17, 2010 at 07:51 am
The best answer to the questions of what one teaches is simple: "I teach students."
2. margray - November 17, 2010 at 09:07 am
Yes, but it is a snotty answer to an honest question, and is guaranteed to make me think the responder odd, unfriendly, or incompetent. Why not answer honestly? There is no reason to be rude first.
3. 11182967 - November 17, 2010 at 10:16 am
It is a curse of the profession that even outside of class educators tend to think the burden of response and information is on them. A good offense is the best defense--keep the answer short and turn it back on to the questioner: "I'm an English professor at X College. What do you do?" Most people will respond to your question, often at length (prompt them, if necessary), and the pressure is then on them. This can lead to a quick end to the conversation, but also to a lesson in the intricacies of another job or profession. That in turn provides the basis for further conversation. If your conversational companion kvetches about his or her occupation, you can share some of the miseries of your own. But conversation can lead to genuine interchange and an opportunity to change someone's perception about your own profession. Another ploy is to say, "I'm a teacher. I'll bet you had some interesting teachers when you were in school." You may hear first about Miss Grundy, but eventually you hear about Mr. Chips, and being a teacher will turn out to be a good thing.
When asked what I do I say "I'm an academic administrator [not "assistnat vice president for Academic Affairs at X University
4. demery1 - November 17, 2010 at 10:57 am
Debra Fine's book on small talk is a worthwhile investment for any academic professional. The key is to answer the question in a way that provides multiple avenues for response.
I teach composition leads to comments about composition.
but "I work with students on personal essays and academic argumentation" gives two avenues.
"I teach two courses in academic writing for first year students, one at 8:30 am and one in the crappiest old building you could ever imagine."
5. derekbruff - November 17, 2010 at 03:01 pm
Them: "What do you teach?"
Me: "I teach mathematics."
Them: "Oh, I hate math."
Me: "That's funny. I hate what you do, too."
I can't really say that, can I? =)
6. doctorateintraining - November 17, 2010 at 03:32 pm
What do we do about people who do not have a lot of education who act like know-it-alls? I rarely know how to respond to those people. Many people (but not all) exhibit poor logic, and will overstep boundaries in conversation too often. I know I could school them, but who wants to do that at a social event? Do accountants do taxes at parties?
After all of my years of reading, writing, and intense studying, I find it insulting, for example, if a person who never even attended college randomly suggests s/he "should write my paper on topic X." Seriously, what kind of comment is that anyway? Who talks like that? Well, some woman actually blurted this out to me recently. I wasn't prepared to respond to such a strange assertion. My first thoughts? Ummm, first of all, I do not and would never cheat, you freakin' moron! Second of all, it would be completely rude and unprofessional for me to say "Actually, you are not smart enough, nor do you have the training, to write scholarly papers for me..." HAHA!
Ultimately, I responded by changing the subject. I was very uncomfortable with that line of talk, as you can imagine.
So what can be done with those who have inflated egos who think a Ph.D. is not truly an indication of being within a higher tier. Certainly, I am not saying we should go around thinking we are better than other people. I am just saying that people who do not acknowledge their role are very annoying.
7. doctorateintraining - November 17, 2010 at 03:44 pm
I love derekbruff's response (#5). HILARIOUS! I wish I could be in the room when somebody actually says that.
8. 11182967 - November 17, 2010 at 04:25 pm
In my last post (#3) those last two lines ghosted in--sorry. My father taught me to take seriously what people do for a living, whatever that may be. As the well-educated minister of a large congregation few of whose members were professionals, he knew the importance of treating the work of others with respect. Most less-educated know-it-alls don't know it all, but they do know some things, often quite well. A initial interest in what they know can lead to their willingness to listen to what you know. I was taught to be proud of my education but not to be condescending toward others on that account. That lesson has served me well in dealing with students, especially older students, with parents, and, not so incidentally with the tradespeople into whose hands I entrust my house and car.
9. duchess_of_malfi - November 17, 2010 at 05:48 pm
I tell people what I teach because their reactions are unpredictable and useful as starting points for classroom discussion about what the discipline and area are and are not. But I don't teach math. I sympathize with people who hear, "I hate..."
10. doctorateintraining - November 17, 2010 at 06:22 pm
To 11182967 (response #8):
I understand what you are saying. Let me assure you, I do treat my students with dignity and respect. That is a much different scene than being at a party or other social event where peers are being antagonistic towards people who work in education.
In higher education, there are even greater pressures to publish, present, and so on. When a person demeans my hard work by teasing me about my job, or making illogical assumptions about what I do, I feel s/he is disrespecting MY field and MY education, yet I must--and I do--remain graceful, humble, and simply stand there and take it. That is what I was trying to convey there, but maybe I did not articulate it well enough.
Anyway, thanks for the response. Your post makes sense.
11. dee615 - November 17, 2010 at 07:37 pm
I'd love to know how others in academia respond to the following types of questions/ comments:
(a) I got my degree from the University of Life.
(b) Math can't fix a house / pay the bills / ..
(c) Book learning doesn't prepare you for the real world.
(d) If you're so smart, how come you're in debt /single /.. ?
(e) I guess you think I'm stupid.
(f) With all that science, you can't still fix your car?
(g) What do smart people think of [topic]?
(h) I guess most men think you're too smart to date.
12. doctorateintraining - November 17, 2010 at 08:52 pm
Dee, I don't know if you've seen these articles (and their comment threads), but if not, they might be interesting to you:
http://chronicle.com/article/Why-Do-They-Hate-Us-/124608/
http://chronicle.com/article/Why-Do-They-Hate-Us-Part-2/125066/#top
These are both from the Chronicle of Higher Ed. The comment threads are where you might find at least some commentary that could answer your question.
Personally, I always try to smile and remain calm when people make comments like that. I might even say something like, "I never said I knew everything!" OR "That's a little unfair!" OR "Hmm, that's an interesting assumption..." Hahaha! :-)
13. kattt - November 18, 2010 at 10:19 am
I'm not sure it's a great idea to take a chess game approach to conversations. Trying to defend yourself against a possible remark that is several exchanges away will probably just have you come across as odd.
My advice is to try to take the conversation beyond the obvious exchange and take it somewhere that you would find interesting. If "I teach math" results in "I hated math," you might respond with:
"Really? What about it do you think turned you off?" or "Really? What was your favorite subject?" or even simply "I know a few of my students who would agree with you... What do you do?"
14. ccchron - November 18, 2010 at 12:29 pm
Ms. Mentor's response didn't touch on the issue I hoped it would: when asked what you "do," do you invoke the word "professor," or stick with "teacher"?
In my experience, saying "I'm a professor" (and I've only tried it since completing the Ph.D.) has an unwelcome intimidating effect, where the person assumes you are condescending to them. But saying "teacher" has an unwelcome effect of _bringing on_ condescension, where the person assumes you teach K-12 and isn't that cute. This has also happened when I try to get around it by saying "I teach (English)." Then they ask where, or what grade, and when I say when I say "um, at X University," they say "oh!... (frown)." What's the best convention for getting around this awkwardness?
15. mrbridgeii - November 18, 2010 at 01:15 pm
I say, "I work in a Hazardous Waste Facility." It gets me a little extra seat room, gives me peace and quiet during the flight--and, given some of the papers I read, it's not entirely a lie.
16. dee615 - November 18, 2010 at 01:42 pm
doctorateintraining (#10),
Thanks a lot!
ccchron (#14),
I say that I'm a faculty member.
17. dee615 - November 18, 2010 at 01:44 pm
Oops, I specifically meant to thank doctorateintraining for post #12.
18. mark_dc2 - November 18, 2010 at 09:06 pm
(a) I got my degree from the University of Life.
Most people get it that way and it's a tough school.
(b) Math can't fix a house / pay the bills / ..
I used math just last night to balance my checkbook and geometry to help plan a brick walkway.
(c) Book learning doesn't prepare you for the real world.
Perhaps, but I find it gives me a different perspective on it.
(d) If you're so smart, how come you're in debt /single /.. ?
In the long run my earnings will cover my debt just fine and I get to do something I enjoy for a living. or I considered the opportunity costs long ago and this was the right decision for me. / I know some dumb people who've been married...several times. I'm looking for the right person--til death do us part.
(e) I guess you think I'm stupid.
That remains to be seen, but keep talking. Better would be: My grandfather never completed H.S. but he was a very smart and learned man.
(f) With all that science, you can't still fix your car?
With all the electronics in cars these days, who can? I'm a , not a mechanic.
(g) What do smart people think of [topic]?
What do you think of it? Or They have differing opinions.
(h) I guess most men think you're too smart to date.
Most men in my social circle also have Ph.D.s.
I guess I'm lucky. I never get these questions. Or pehaps I don't fly often enough to encounter chatty seat mates.
19. lizgibbons - November 20, 2010 at 02:55 pm
I tell them I teach dance. They inevitably ask if I watch Dancing With The Stars. I tell them I don't own a TV. Then they're usually so flummoxed they can't think of a thing to say (as if I'd said that I'm dying of an obscure disease), so then I get to ask them what THEY do, which makes it much more interesting for me.
20. labjack - December 08, 2010 at 05:55 pm
For math teachers who get people who hate math, the old,
'Have you got two tens for a five?' gag, should point out how good everyone is with math. Just some people have been trained to think they aren't, at least in the classroom.