Every Monday morning, I go into my coworker’s office to talk and catch up before the rest of the office comes in at 9AM. I always look forward to our “Monday Morning Meetings”, or the triple M as I like to call it. Most of the time, we talk about how our weekends went; she tends to have much more to talk about since she spends her weekend with her family. I tend to talk about just staying over my partner’s place and relaxing after a long work week. Sometimes, we venture out to talking about things in our personal lives and even though we were raised in different times in life (she is an early 80’s baby as I’m an early 90’s one), we’ve come to realize that we see a lot of ourselves in each other… besides the fact that she used to be a preschool teacher; I would never.
She explained that the most fascinating thing she’s witnessed when she was a teacher was watching the little kids learn new things and see the excitement on their faces when they did. Sure, it’s the things that as we get older become second nature to us, but watching a kid figure out something for the first time ever and being a part of that journey is what made the job memorable for her. Sure, I would laugh and commend her for even dealing with kids that young, but understand that those who work in elementary education in any capacity share that same feeling when talking about their kids. It’s– what you say–drives them. It’s what fuels them. It’s what keeps them going. It’s what keeps their passion alive, despite the negativity cogitation and politics that surround the field in general.
I don’t have the passion to change the lives of children, as I realized I just don’t work well with them. I’m patient, but not for children. What I am passionate about is helping and caring for people that I can somewhat relate to; it’s why I decided to go back to my stomping grounds of my alumna college and work there for 5 years now. I was once in these students’ shoes; an undergraduate walking the large campus for the first time and not knowing where the building of my next class was. I always refer back to the end of my junior year of college, sitting in my advisor’s office and having her tell me that I was 20 credits short and would not graduate on time unless I declared a second minor and took summer classes leading up to my senior year. I graduated on time because someone communicated with me about something no one cared to do for six out of the eight semesters of my undergraduate career.
I look back at that 21-year-old Liz and think about her a lot when doing my job now. She frequents back into my decision making when I am in a dilemma about doing what is right versus what feels right. I vowed to always be that person in higher education that is the connecting voice between staff and students. Students are allowed to know what is going on with their educational record and should always be told the correct information, despite on how our shitty our day is going or how overwhelmed we are feeling due to our busy times. They have it worse; most of us made it to our college graduations and earned our degrees already.
But maybe that’s just me being young and naive. Maybe in higher education, I am what you call a “preschool kid”. Maybe I am still too impressionable to truly see the reality of what it means to work in higher education.
Or maybe, just maybe, I carry so much passion when it comes to higher education.
Hi, my name is Liz, entering my 3rd year in higher education, and would rather be a ‘preschooler of higher ed’ than to just dim my light to be aligned with everyone else.
Lemme explain.
Some people will argue that I take my job way too seriously. Since the beginning, I’ve took a lot of my work home with me mentally, especially on the days where I feel the jadedness of higher education tries to challenge my morals and values in my field. People have to constantly remind me that “it’s just a job” or “don’t take it personal” or “you’re doing too much”, or my personal favorite: “what you’re doing is way above your pay grade.” People assume just because you are frustrated about one element of your job, you make it entirely about you and blah blah blah. Whatever.
Lately, my frustrations have stemmed from a place where I very much feel like I am in the middle of two different worlds within my field. I am metaphorically “not a girl, not yet a woman”; meaning I am not in the same class as those who work task-driven jobs, but not yet experienced enough to partake in conversations where my thoughts and opinions are taken to consideration. While I am great at what I do, I am constantly being humbled by those who still see me as being “too young” because of my work ethic. It’s the “oh dear, you still have high hopes for change in this field” from the people who’ve been in it for as long as I’ve been alive in some cases. It’s the politics and the hierarchy and this never ending superiority complex that people in this field have and–
Okay. Let me stop before I start sounding like one of those people in those podcasts who’ve worked in their industry long enough to see all the bad shit happen behind closed doors. Let me not be the Jaguar Wright of higher education now.
Being in the position I’m in now is allowing me to see the ugly side of higher education that I feel like many people before me have already seen. I am seeing the politics behind the institution. I am seeing the motives of city employees maintaining a cracked image. I am seeing just how many people come in just to clock in, get paid, and go home without caring about anyone else but themselves. Yes, I understand it is what it is, but it doesn’t make it right, especially if you are putting the academic career of a student at jeopardy.
So here I am, “holding space” for my youth in this field with flower patterns in my wardrobe and decorations around my desk while still upholding the status quo of my duties. I am still learning new things that fascinate me about the field, and policies that have been around long enough to even when I was a new student 12 years ago. I am still the preschool kid in higher education, thinking that all these things I am learning will help me grow and be wiser and to one day watch the new generation experience the things I once did.
But I refuse to become Jaded.
I refuse to let my current frustrations and the negativity cloud my vision of change. I refuse to stand in an assembly line with everyone else just trying to get to the end of the work day. I refuse to let others views and opinions take me down so early in my career; I will not let the misery that lingers in every career keep its company with mine. I will not become like my older peers when I get to be their age, and I will not let them silence me while projecting this idea that “the new generation is our future” in the same breath.
Let us take control of the outcome of our future. Let us keep our drive for change alive in hopes that one day, we can actually change the politics behind it. Laugh at me all you want; tell me you remember just how young and naive you were when you were my age and thinking that you thought you had the power to make significant change and–
Blah. Blah. Blah.
I am frustrated because I know that I am capable of being a part of conversation to innovate change. I am frustrated because this is the most confident I’ve been with myself and my work ever. I am in a position where there is so much left to learn, sure– I am not perfect and there is so much of the picture I cannot see yet– but give me the chance to show you that I am working towards getting there. I am frustrated because my passion is constantly being tested, but maybe it’s that same frustration that is making me want to work harder.
It’s just a job. Never take things personal. It’s way above your pay grade. You’re trying too hard.
It’s passion. It’s drive. It’s the excitement of learning new things and wanting to apply it to your everyday tasks. It’s seeing things in a lens that you never saw through before. Fuck it, it’s me being young and still new in this field.
But I refuse to let “older and wiser” turn into “bitter and anger”. I refuse to let decades of untouched politics in higher education stop me from attempting to make even a small change in it. I refuse to change who I am just to blend in into the green and yellow walls of our office, no matter how hard others may try. I refuse to let my passion in higher education fade away.
Letters From Liz. 