• 

Sometimes I feel really small and not in a good way like Hannah must have felt in between these redwoods on our trip to California a few years ago. That’s what led to this rant–feeling small

What the Powers That Be Seem to Care About: :

• Meetings.Not useful ones. Probably not ones “the powers” want to hold either, but must be checked off “the list”
• Lists.Probably not ones that my powers created but some powers somewhere thought that having an entire campus come together every other month (I shouldn’t complain it used to be every month) was somehow a “sign” that good communication was going on between the administration and the faculty and staff when in fact no communication goes on; however, requiring everyone to come to that meeting means someone somewhere can check an item off a list and checking items off lists produces numbers.
• Numbers. The powers love numbers. Numbers validate. Numbers justify. Numbers produce. Exactly what these numbers produce I’m not sure, but they are obviously very important to the powers. and are essential to the powers maintaining power.
• Maintaining Power. When you get down to it, that’s what this is really all about. Power. If the powers have power to tell employees what to do and when to do it and require them to come to this meeting and that one, then they continue to have a sense of power. And when they begin to feel powerless, the powers seek power wherever they can find it because staying in power means they can keep the job that allows them to tell other people what to do and criticize them when they don’t do the job the way they were supposed to when the employees were never told how to do the job in the first place. Or when they don’t go to a meaningless meeting, of course. And the employees can’t complain or stop the powers because powers are rarely evaluated by anybody else except by a once a year employee satisfaction survey that no one will pay attention to because the survey is just a process that produces more numbers that lead to more lists that must be discussed at more meetings attended by the powers that be because other powers demand it. And at the meetings about the numbers and the lists and the other meetings, more lists will be created to solve the problem, and after much discussion, it will be decided that the problem lies with the people whom the powers have power over and other lists will be created without the knowledge or input of the people who will be required to follow said lists who will be criticized when they don’t follow the lists correctly..
• It’s as simple as that.

Notice that nowhere in this post were the words “education” or “students” mentioned. Hello! Why would they be?

Curtis McCarley, composer and friend, at the show Pentecost after the Dramatists Guild of America’s Saturday Showcase in Raleigh, September 2014

A couple of years ago on the way back from Pennsylvania where we were visiting John’s family, I started venting, not out loud, but on paper. I was so disgusted with the way higher education is becoming more like a business than a public service–a source of income rather than a source of learning. Workforce development was, and remains, the buzz phrase around my college and my state. Practical learning rules the day–as if teaching people to think–the goal of a liberal arts education–is not the hallmark of any practical-minded curriculum.

But this blog post is supposed to be about art rather than venting, Katie Winkler, so get back to it.

So because I want to keep my job despite its frustrations, on that long drive home after the holidays, I began to muse about a way to vent, well, creatively. I felt like I was being asked, not to really teach, but to walk through the motions, without asking my students to reach an acceptable standard for college level students, so zombies came to mind. I felt I was being sucked dry of all my creativity and autonomy in the classroom–vampires came next. I found another analogy–so much technology but no real attention to that technology’s practical application in the classroom–inept wizards. And then there were werewolves and nazis.

But there are those who are still fighting–and not just faculty–there are staff members and administrators who are fighting the good fight. They are the fairy godmothers (and one fiesty fairy godfather) of my story. I started throwing my ideas out to my husband and daughter as we drove along and next thing I knew it the plot of CAMPUS, my new musical, was born.

Now, when frustration threatens to overcome me on the job, I retreat into the fantasyland of the College of Applied Multi-Purposes United in Simplicity, where the good fairy godteachers fight against their arch-enemy, Mr. Mediocrity, and all his minions, to uphold the ideals of the liberal arts and bring truth and beauty to two promising students, Jack and Jill, who want an education, a real education, one that prepares them for life, not just a job.

The play is going well. My friend and composer Curtis McCarley, my friend Christine Potee Laucher and I presented a scene from the play and a few songs at the Dramatist Guild of America’s Saturday Showcase in September at the Burning Coal Theater in Raleigh that was well-received, and I’ve submitted a proposal for a grant to help Curtis and I complete the work. I hope to get the play written by the end of June when I’ll hear about the grant.

Even if the proposal is not accepted, I’m glad I’ve pursued writing this play. It has given voice to my frustration in a creative, constructive way, helping me to continue my work while keeping in the forefront of my mind what are the true goals of my life.

Here’s the lyrics to one of the songs from the play, “Down at the Diploma Mill”:

DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL
ONCE I WAS A BRIGHT YOUNG TEACHER
ONCE I MADE MY LESSON PLANS
ONCE I LOOKED INTO THEIR SHINING FACES
AND THOUGHT I’D MAKE A DIFFERENCE
NOW I KNOW THAT WAS ALL A LIE

CHORUS
WORKIN’ DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL
LOOKIN’ FOR SOME BRAIN CELLS TO KILL
WE NEVER MEANT IT TO BE THIS WAY
But we GOT NOTHIN’ LEFT TO SAY
DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL

ONCE I HAD SOME GOOD IDEAS
ONCE I TRIED TO CHANGE MY WAYS
QUIT GIVING OUT OBJECTIVE TESTS
BE DIFFERENT THAN ALL THE REST
ASK AN ESSAY QUESTION
DO A PROJECT INSTEAD

BUT THE DEAN SAID IT WASN’T ASSESSMENT
WE SHOULD GET RETURN ON OUR INVESTMENT
IF IT’S NOT SOMETHING WE CAN CALCULATE
OR THAT’S EASY TO REGURGITATE
THEN IT’S SOMETHING YOU CAN’T DO
DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL

CHORUS
WORKIN’ DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL
LOOKIN’ FOR SOME BRAIN CELLS TO KILL
WE NEVER MEANT IT TO BE THIS WAY
But we GOT NOTHIN’ LEFT TO SAY
DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL

BRIDGE
WHY DID I SPEND THAT MONEY TO BE A DOCTOR
WHEN ALL THEY WANT IS A PROCTOR
WHY BOTHER CALLING ME A TEACHER
WHEN I’M JUST A FACILITATOR
FESTERING IN THIS STINKING DIPLOMA MILL

THE STUDENTS SAY MY CLASS IS TOO BORING

TOO MUCH GRAMMAR OR MATH STARTS THEM SNORING

I NEED TO TRY AND ASK THE GOOD QUESTIONS

NOW I CAN ONLY HIDE MY FRUSTRATION

IT’S ALL I CAN DO TO KEEP THEM FROM TEXTING

CHORUS
WORKIN’ DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL
LOOKIN’ FOR SOME BRAIN CELLS TO KILL
WE NEVER MEANT IT TO BE THIS WAY
But we GOT NOTHIN’ LEFT TO SAY
DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL