The Ethics of Time in Graduate School

When I look around any given graduate class period, I see folks who brings many different experiences to the classroom. A diverse classroom isn't necessarily a new thing; it's been happening since the G.I Bill allowed access to college for the middle class and affirmative action helped those marginalized an opportunity to grow and learn. Though society is slow to react to these newfound human rights, the academy can feel, and indeed be, even slower to react to cultural shifts. Take new media and the digital, for instance. Cyberbullying, trolling, and fake news are only just now gathering the traction they rightfully deserve. My field in particular--rhetoric and composition--tends to be one of the first to attend to and produce literature on such issues and concerns. 

Time itself is abstract so let me break that down in the context of graduate school, particularly in English. Having experiences in two different disciplines, Creative Writing, and Rhet/Comp, there isn't much of a difference in the levels and expectations of production. Both involve heavy writing and reading, obviously. What the university fails to consider are the obligations nontraditional students must juggle between course work and assistantship obligations. There's plenty of research and studies that show that these kinds of students not only exist in every level secondary education (community, state, private, etc.) but there's not a lot understood about the needs of those who pursue postgraduate degrees. 

If it isn't apparent yet, this blog post wants to explore the commodity of time. What does time look like as a graduate student? What does time look like for the graduate student with dependents, like kids or a sick parent/partner? How does the university account for these varying experiences? Speaking from experience, there's a divide between the university's standards of time and that of individual instructors.   

Students with children, who might be older than their peers, and/or are first-generation are identified as nontraditional. With a projection of 14 million non-traditional students by 2024, I still think there's much work to do to meet the needs of the growing demographic of students. The university doesn't hold ethical understandings of work and production. This can be argued for traditional and nontraditional students. The model for production is capitalistic and oppressive, continuing systemic traditions that work as both a gatekeeper and gateway for those who fit the "ideal" candidate. Those who are "traditional" students can work in this oppressive system because they have more commodified time. This might all seem obvious but consider the conditions and requirements of graduate school. For the interest of time, I won't be speaking for students who are able to attend graduate without an assistantship. They are not my audience. 

The graduate assistant is often required to teach, take a full course load (usually 6 credit hours), and, often, sign a contract stipulating they cannot work OUTSIDE of these duties; so no second job. I've known graduate students who, savvy and brave, work a second job. I don't blame them. The stipend package--though the money is helpful--often doesn't align with the local cost of living, despite university studies of the area that claim otherwise, but that's for another post 😄  

I have no suggestions or solutions; this is only to help bring awareness to those who can make a change. To the administrators, deans, presidents, etc. TIME should be considered in both course load and teaching requirements for GA's. Many, many, many of us have dependents we share our time with. These sorts of obligations are not factored into the overall expectations for GA's. Doctor's appointments, rehearsals, plays, PTO meetings, conferences, sick days, general family time, cooking, cleaning...I could go on and on. 

This is directed at those who can make a change, as stated above. To my instructors who, with patience and support, have accommodated the needs of nontraditional students: you're doing the work that the overall university should be doing. It shouldn't be your responsibility entirely. Though these instructors have been paramount to my success and continuation of my degrees, I do understand that they must still work within the confines of a systemically oppressive system, one that's fully adopted a capitalistic model of individualism, ableism, and white supremacism. This effort should be placed on the shoulders of administrators. We must consider time ethically and uniquely for each individual student. 

Chipped Tooth, Healthcare, and Other Ranting

The Intersections of Parenting and the Academy

Before I dive into the topic in the title, I want to briefly discuss how I envision this blog will work. First, what I want to get out of this experience is to have space where I can vent, in a constructive way, my experiences as both a parent and graduate assistant/student. Second, this is a themed blog, at least for the time being. Each post will focus solely on those experiences. And, finally, my desired outcomes are to help build upon an already growing consciousness and bring further awareness to those with or without children while attending, or thinking about attending graduate school. The narratives that follow are for anyone to experience. Additionally, I want to note that I enjoy several privileges not afforded to others (white, male, heterosexual). I’ll try my best to be sensitive to less privileged experiences and I welcome open conversation from those arenas. That said, maybe you’ll find this blog useful. Maybe you’ll find it useless. Either way, I felt compelled to put my words down and to take some sort of action.

*As I find my voice and figure out what this blog will accomplish, the first few posts might feel disjointed, rambling, incoherent, etc. as I try to find the personality of this blog. Suggestions and comments are welcome! See you in the comment section.

I Chipped My Tooth and There’s Nothing I Can Do About It

Eating a turkey sandwich for lunch is a common occurrence for me, though I’ll often pack a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the turkey variety is my go-to. What isn’t a common occurrence is chipping my tooth. It’s been about three weeks since I chipped my molar (back right and my preferred side to chew on). At first, I wasn’t particularly bothered. I picked out the piece of tooth in question, looked at it, and absentmindedly threw it in the trash with the wrappers leftover from lunch. I continued my work: grading, prepping, taking a call from my wife, talking to my kids, whom I don’t get to see them Tuesdays and Thursdays this semester.

It’s been three weeks now and the pain is REAL. Eating hot food stings. Eating cold food is agonizingly painful. Chewing on that side isn’t a good idea and I’m pretty sure parts of my tooth that shouldn’t be exposed are exposed, open to an environment hostile to it. In some weird way, there’s a metaphor here. As a graduate student, I’m constantly worried about how I’m perceived. A lot of the time, my feelings bounce between imposter syndrome, confidence, and back to imposter syndrome. In having a chipped tooth, I have one more thing to throw onto the pile of growing things I must remedy, accomplish, get done, and this isn’t including the many other identities I navigate.  

Well, in a bind, I purchased toothpaste far outside my budget the other day. Sensodyne’s tooth repair had worked in a pickle before so I thought I’d try it again. I gently brushed it on, rinsed, and then applied a small dab, all the suggestions I found on the internet. Several years ago, I had chipped a canine while laying carpet (a summer job). Carrying a large roll of carpet is bad enough on your back but, when the other guy let his end down without warning, I went tumbling forward. My tooth never stood a chance. So I had found that toothpaste, applied it, and never thought of it again. I can still feel the indentation with my tongue. The chip on my molar is far worse.

What about the other internet suggestions? Healthline.com recommends the following:

While you most likely will need a dentist to repair a chipped tooth, there are steps you can take to reduce injury to the tooth until you see your doctor (emphasis added).

·         Place temporary dental filling material, a teabag, sugar-free gum, or dental wax over the jagged edge of the tooth to protect your tongue and gums.

·         Take an anti-inflammatory painkiller such as ibuprofen (Advil, Motrin IB) if you have pain.

·         Place ice on the outside of your cheek if the chipped tooth is causing irritation to the area.

·         Floss to remove food caught between your teeth, which can cause even more pressure on your chipped tooth when you chew.

·         Avoid chewing using the chipped tooth.

·         Swipe clove oil around any painful gums to numb the area.

·         Wear a protective mouthguard when you play sports or at night if you grind your teeth.

“Place temporary dental filling material, a teabag, sugar-free gum…” So my options are limited in terms of minimalizing damage and pain. Here’s what healthline.com says about the cost of repairing a chipped tooth:

• Tooth planing or smoothing. About $100.
• Tooth reattachment. You’ll have to pay for the dental exam, which is usually between $50 to $350. However, because tooth reattachment doesn’t require much in the way of materials, the charge should be minimal.
• Bonding. $100 to $1,000, depending on the complexity involved.
• Veneers or onlays. $500 to $2,000, but this will depend on the material used and how much the tooth has to be prepared before affixing the veneer/crown.

 

These prices would sting if I had health insurance. My dentist charges $150 just to see me and this is lower than some of the averages I’ve seen locally. Unless I want to strap into debt even further every month, my options are home remedies, like placing sugar-free gum over my tooth in order to protect it (don’t worry; I won’t do that).   

When I accepted my assistantship, I was aware that health insurance wasn’t a part of the package. I am fortunate for what I do receive: a “livable” wage (I qualify for the lowest tier of income-based housing in my city), 90% of my tuition is paid (no complaints here), and I’m given opportunities and resources those outside of academia could only dream of. In several ways, graduate school is a gift and a curse. Before you make your decision to apply, or accept, avoid options without health insurance, if you can.

In the past, I felt that it would be grossly unprofessional, even sacrilegious, to critique the funding package I was given. I still feel this way but, considering the fast-growing awareness of healthcare in this country, I think this is a meritorious topic. It isn’t just graduate students suffering from the healthcare crisis. Everyone I know is strapped with medical debt and I’m the type of person that’ll wait till near death to be seen by a doctor. So, I will sit happily with my chipped tooth, slightly more bitter, slightly more angry, but still hopeful that something will happen in the future that’ll offer relief.  

Healthcare for All
 

I must add that I am enrolled in Medicaid. My kids and wife, all on Medicaid. If you’re a child, Medicaid covers everything. It covers the small stuff—check-ups, ER visits, teeth cleanings—and the big stuff—surgery, childbirth, etc. My wife enjoys a few more benefits than me but not much. For instance, the dentist was worried she’d need a root canal last year if a procedure didn’t work. Insurance wouldn’t cover it costing us just over $1500.

My chipped tooth? Around $600 out of pocket. Apparently, to Medicaid, I’m working so my employer should front the bill or at least part of it. I’ve spent hours on the phone trying to persuade the customer service representative, who, over time, always gets frustrated, that I might be lying. If the problem gets any worse, I’ll have to take on extra debt.

But that isn’t the only problem here. Now that I know there isn’t any possible way to remedy this by proper means, I turn to the internet in a weird, essential oil-infused search. There’s some crazy shit on the net. The sound advice always suggests the dentist. Everyone knows that our country is the richest in the world with the poorest healthcare. I want to take this idea a step further and say that those of us who do work, who are just below the poverty line, have zero healthcare. I had this same issue before I worked in academia.

None of this helps when one of my greatest fears, a fear that fuels my nightmares, teeth issues, is now a reality and I don’t have access to the resources to fix it. If my government and job can’t help me, who can? I’m sure there are resources I haven’t exhausted yet. I’m sure there are loopholes and hurdles I can jump through to get my tooth repaired. Though I have optimism, I’m reminded of how much time those types of processes can take. Time, as you will find in the next blog post, is a rare and precious commodity when splitting between kids, wife, friends, school, teaching, etc. Imagine, then, that you occupy space on the margins. Under other circumstances, say if I were black, Latino, physically/mentally disabled, etc., my situation would only be made worse. We’re only more aware of this now because white people can no longer afford healthcare. Those on the fringes have never had proper access.

In closing, I look to my future and ask myself a few questions: Will I eventually get this tooth fixed? Or will it be pulled? When I’m on the job market, will making more money be worse for my family, especially when we inevitably lose our government-funded health insurance and must purchase our own? Will we elect someone who has the answers to these problems? I’m not optimistic. Universal healthcare will never be a thing until upper-middle-class folks can accept the fact that those less fortunate get something that benefits them. I feel for all who have chipped teeth, no insurance and no money. I hope, for all of us, it gets better.