I believe in God, and would never have made it this far if I didn't. I also am not sure whether Ze is a man or woman. I think Ze is probably both, because how could Ze leave out one whole gender in Hir ultimate perfection? I still imagine God sometimes as a celestial drag queen, a sort of RuPaul in the sky, looking down in soft focus and saying wise things like "If you can't love yourself, how are you gonna love somebody else?" and "You better work!" I am convinced that God/RuPaul is looking out for me, and Ze is showing me the things I need to see, if I only pay attention.
I had a dream last night that I was on some sort of road trip with my mom. I had gone into a gas station for something, and somehow I got trapped in the gas station. It was one humiliating incident after another, disgusting restroom, long line at the check out, somehow I spent years in that gas station. I eventually lost my temper, I raged and screamed at everyone in there, all the people breaking in line, the unresponsive cashier. Somehow I got out of that awful place. And my mom was still waiting in the car, but the car was different. It was a shiny but vintage Cadillac, when before it was something broken down but more modern, like a Civic or something. I got in the passenger seat and broke down in tears. My mom was driving. We'd been delayed. It would be after dark before we'd get where we were going.
I believe dreams are the soul's way of showing us the truth. I think there's a lot of truth in this dream.
I am close to my mom, and that to me represents a need for comfort and a sense of belonging in my life. A longing for a sense of family of my own. The need to be surrounded by people who love me. The past years have been so devoid of that kind of comfort, a procession of catty pretentious colleagues and smug faculty, none of whom I ever really felt I could trust or be myself around. Having lost my own sense of joy, of course I have stayed single for a number of years. Why would anyone want to start a life with someone who has lost their joy? The men I have involved myself with have all been just as withholding, unavailable, and downright cruel as the so-called career that I have been pursuing. The universe has taken on vague shades of sadism and cruelty, but I know this is not the truth. God loves me, even if not all of Hir children do. The world is inherently good and wondrous, if I can just learn to see it again.
Last night I went out for drinks with an assistant professor at a nearby Selective Liberal Arts College (SLAC). Ze reeked of VSD. Ze was just going up for tenure. I listened to hir describe the process and it became clear to me: it was like the PhD all over again. IT NEVER ENDS. Except this time, instead of writing one major work, facing the threat of unemployment, and teaching one class every few quarters, you're teaching two or three classes a quarter, writing multiple articles and book chapters, and serving on various committees, advising, and facing the threat of unemployment. Because that's what happens if you don't get tenure. You get fired. And, according to this gul (my gender neutral rendition of guy/gal), what is actually enough work to get you tenure is just as unclear as what is enough reading or dissertating or classroom prep or whatever to pass muster during the PhD. No one actually tells you "you need this many articles, this many need to be peer-reviewed, and then this many conference papers" etc. etc.
The other thing that flabbergasted me is that the bar has, naturally, been put even higher than during the PhD. Now instead of a dissertation, you need a TENURE BOX. This insidious and soul-crushing entity is basically a giant file box (or two) that you put everything you've done over the past years of non-tenured work into for the perusal of those who are deciding on your tenure case. All your articles, books, syllabi, teaching evaluations, letters from colleagues, conference papers, sample assignments from classes, everything you've done for the past five years to prove that you are worth keeping around.
In what other job does your boss, after five years of honest work, tell you "Okay, you're going to get a couple file boxes, and I want you to put every email you've written, every powerpoint slideshow, every spreadsheet, basically all the work you've done for me over the past five years. I want it nicely organized with little divider tabs. I also want you to go to all your co-workers and get them to write a letter to me explaining whether I should fire you or not and put those in there too. Then give the box to me, I will ponder it for several months, and at the end of that time I will let you know if I'm going to fire you or not." WHAT?? I'm sorry, this is just plain abusive.
The clincher, this gul told me about how it gets decided and how ze gets informed. There is a committee that meets and interviews hir after having looked at hir boxes (this gul had two giant file boxes... holy moley, and ze's only at a SLAC! I just had an image of filling my box full of stuffed animals, wood chips, and gummy worms. Take that committee!!) Then the dean interviews hir to find out how productive ze's been. None of these interviews actually let you know what is going to happen. Then the committee writes a secret letter, the dean also writes a secret letter. These go to the president of the SLAC. The president reviews them. Then, in like FOUR MONTHS, you may get a decision. The decision is either a phone call from the president or a letter. If you get tenure, you get a phone call. If you're denied, you get a letter. The thought that after five years of teaching and service the decision to fire you does not even merit a face to face conversation... A LETTER? What other job would fire you via letter???
No wonder ze reeked of VSD. No wonder ze had dark circles under hir eyes. No wonder ze had the air of someone whose spirit has been systematically crushed without even knowing it was happening. Thank you God/RuPaul. You show me what I need to see.
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