I Don't Think It's Going to Be Better

Many years ago I was briefly part of a university group trying to get better working conditions for grad students, post-docs, adjuncts, and other members of academia’s petite bourgeoisie. (And yes, we were the sort of people who used terms like “petite bourgeoisie” to show each other how clever we were.) One Tuesday evening an older gentleman showed up to one of our meetings. He listened patiently as we talked, then cleared his throat and said, “You know, there’s probably an easier way to do this. If you can get a meeting with the dean, he might—”

“We’ve already tried talking to dean,” someone said dismissively.

The guy nodded. “I understand that, but I think that if you say you want to talk about retention rather than—”

“The problem isn’t just retaining people,” someone else immediately said, “We need to broaden the intake.”

I think he tried to speak one more time, only to be cut off in the same way. As we all went in circles saying, “Well actually, the real problem is…” he quietly got up and went to the blackboard. (We were meeting in an empty classroom, and yes, it was long enough ago that they still had blackboards.) None of us noticed that he was writing, but when the door closed behind him a few moments later, we all saw the message he’d left behind:

You have just cut me off mid-sentence three times in less than a minute. Based on that, I don’t think a future built by you will be better than what we have today.

We dismissed it, of course—I mean, hell, he’d been wearing a tie. But I found out later that he was the first openly gay man to hold an administrative position at that university, and that he’d worked for over twenty years to make admissions and promotions fairer. Unfortunately, I learned that from his obituary notice. I still wonder occasionally what he would have taught us if we’d been willing to listen and what else I’ve missed along the way.

Time to make another cup of tea. If you came in peace, be welcome.