This is true in more ways than one. The whole country is in mourning, but for those of us in academic, that everyday walk through these hallowed halls we know, this could have happened at any campus, this could have happened at our campus. This has been a rough week, and as most people I am filled with unbearable sadness, a tightness in my chest that cuts off my breath. I look at the pictures on the news, the faces of the dead and I see my colleagues, my students, my campus. And while I have never met any of these people, I know them, I see them everyday, I could tell you about all of them. They are the people I see crossing the quad everyday, the kids in my classes with those beautiful smiles are hallmarks of youth, these people with such bright futures that the world is hurt without them. I am sad because of how I know this has affected me and every other person who spends a vast amount of time on a college campus, I have been walking around looking at random students, wondering if any of them could just snap. I have had to stop in the middle of teaching to catch my breath as I look over my students, thinking about how devastated I would be to lose any of them. I have sat in class thinking about the best way to barricade the door, where to put my students so they would be safe from gunfire, if we could get out the windows and how high is too high to jump. I don’t want to think about these things, because it both takes away my fantasy of the ivory tower, but also because I know the answers. Our doors open out, you can’t barricade them, the widows don’t open far enough for people to get out, I would have to break them, and the eighth floor is too high to jump. But mostly I have been thinking about my role as teacher, would I be able swim through the fear and stand up for my students like the brave and courageous Liviu Librescu. Here is a man who has seen the worst that humanity has to offer when he lived through the Holocaust, and instead of letting it break him, he stood up, he became all that he should never had had to be. He is in all aspects, a heroic and brave, brave man. Would I be able to do the same? I know that technically our students are adults, but ask any of us and we would tell you that doesn’t matter much, they are our students and we feel it in our bones, we are responsible for them. I care about my students as people and as scholars, we all do, otherwise we would do something else. We are here to share our knowledge and for every one we complain about there are ten that make this job worthwhile. The worst part of this is of course that we never know, I hope that I would be able to stand for them, but you will never know your mettle until you’re tested, all we can do is hope we would be courageous in the face of danger. But for now all I can do is hope that I would be the kind of person I would want to be, and I will cry as I look at the victims, all those bright futures gone, those empty classrooms and offices where students and professors should be, as I see the people I know in their faces, their smiles. There is a lot to discuss about security on campus, and what we can do when we come across students in desperate need of help. But all of that will come later, after we say goodbye to the young and the old, those who will always walk among us even when they are gone. Later, maybe tomorrow we can discuss what can be done, but today all we can say is that we are all Hokies.

Perspective Change. So I guess distance and an amazing pep talk by the resident poet can do wonders for a person’s spirit. And a trip out of town for some sight seeing and hotel sex (oops was that too much?). Plus I got a lead on another job, a better job and it will be ironic justice if I land the same kind of job that I was up for here. But right now I am both in job limbo and end of the semester hell. We still have about four weeks left, but students are starting to get antsy, especially if they are on the border of failure. My favorite one right now is a student who has managed to miss more classes then she has been at. And yet her assignments still find their way into my box. What’s hysterical is that they are often there by the time I return from the class she was supposed to be in. So during our class she can stop by and drop stuff off, but can not actually come to class. Of course she will fail; she has far bypassed the absences allowed in my syllabus and her papers are all F’s because she has not been to class to learn how to write them. And yet I know that she will be one of the ones who will make the end of the semester hard. She will come and yell, will and try to complain to my boss, which will be interesting since the chair is much more of a hard ass then I am. And the bright side of my week is having to pay the government a butt-load of money because they didn’t take enough out during the year. Bastards. But the strange thing here is that I had to call the IRS, they were prompt, polite and helpful; maybe they have changed. Who knows, but I was given a reprieve today to just work, which in and of itself seems funny to me.

I was complaining to my hubby that we had to clean the house (because it’s a pigsty) this weekend, but I also had work to do and I desperately needed some dissertation time. His solution, he would clean the house and I could work. It seemed like a good idea, and I am grateful, but then I got pissy. Why the hell am I grateful that he will clean the house he lives in? We usually do it together, but I have often done it alone, so why the hell can’t he? Well, all I can say is even the feminist is sometimes blind sided by her own allegiance to gender ideology.

When I have days, weeks, months like this I hear that Under Pressure song playing along in my head. It seems to fit my mood and I am lucky that when that pinging starts I know it is not Vanilla Ice. I am trying to finish my dissertation, grade a pile of papers and tests and running around getting ready for a conference, for some reason I feel clean underwear is important to take with me. But mostly I am feeling devastated and nervous. I applied for the job that I am currently filling in for and what do you know, I was not asked for a campus interview. I am putting on a brave face of course and trying to get on with it, but I have to admit that vacillate between being sad beyond measure and pissed as hell. I have worked my ass off for these people; I have done everything in my power to be a good colleague. I know that I am a good teacher, I have the highest evaluations in the department, I am working on being a good scholar, this year I had an article published and presented at a national conference. I have volunteered and worked on committees, set up presentations for prospective students and taught an extra class. Now part of this is me, I like my job and I always strive to be the best at whatever I do, so I will always go the extra mile. But I also thought that if I showed my dedication it would be rewarded. I had no reason to think otherwise, I have always been rewarded for a job well done. But this time nothing I have done seems to have mattered at all. It makes me mad and if I was the kind of person who would take to their bed for weeks I would be there now. But I’m not. I am also pissed off beyond belief.

I was given a phone interview, but not asked to a second interview on campus. Of course this was never told to me by the chair or anyone else on the hiring committee. No I read about it on the list serve when they announced the visits. One would have though that professional courtesy would have prompted one of these people to get the hell off their asses and walk ten feet down the hall to let me know. But I guess I asked too much. And the pissed off part of me says that they can all fuck off. If they don’t want me their loss and I will find someone who appreciated me and all that I can offer. I don’t want to go to any more meetings; I don’t want to do anything at all. Of course I still am because it is just not in me to ignore my responsibilities. But I will admit that I am being a brat when I can and my sunny disposition and energy? That is gone as well; if they don’t want to hire me then they forfeit the joy of me for the rest of the semester. I am sad because I like it here, I like most of the people and I like the students a lot.

I am also embarrassed. What the hell did I do? What more could I have done? Is my career over before it has even begun? I don’t know and I don’t know that I have all the answers now. But eventually the Irish in me will win out and I will thumb my nose at the whole place and more on, because the one thing that I am not is a quitter.