[I have a collection of unpublished drafts in this blog, and I thought I’d publish some from time to time in a Throwback Draft series.]
I wrote this piece more than five years ago, as I was transitioning from being in nonprofits to being in ESL. I’d like to keep the timeframe vague because it will help protect the identity of the kind people and beneficial orgs in the specific example I describe.
I turned out to be happy teaching the class I describe in this article, and I have been happy with my current part-time contingent role at multiple sites through multiple community colleges over the years.
That said, looking back at this post more than five years later, it still resonates with me. I’m happy teaching and assistant teaching, but what’s going on around my classroom is still significant. The nonprofit I wrote about here has shut down. Academics is considered to be having an ” adjunct crisis.” I think a lot of us have a sense of doing ever more with ever less. Our students are not benefiting from this trend, and I’m not sure who is.
The beginning of this new teaching gig has been a string of annoyances and errors so far.
I’m blogging about them because I feel like they exemplify what’s wrong with running low-efficiency operations hog-tied by arbitrary funding rules and changes.
Background: I will be working through a community college to teach ESL at a small nonprofit. I have met everybody involved and there are no slackers, no morons, and no mean-spirited trolls; there are just good people trying to run a good program.
The Comedy of Errors
- Disrespectful scheduling: I requested morning classes through the college. They were all listed as 9AM – 12PM. I was scheduled as the teacher for one of them at “Nonprofit A.” Then the college moved my class one hour earlier. I found out via a mass email of the changed schedule. There was no acknowledgement that I did not sign up for an 8AM class, nor were there offers of flexibility or explanation. There were, however, enough obvious errors on the schedule that I had to email the office to confirm that the change was not a typo.
- Slow Information: Teachers were going to receive materials at a meeting over a month before classes started. This meeting was then moved to be two weeks before classes started. So much for planning ahead.
- Inefficient, Ineffective Meetings: Said last-minute meeting was so generic that the teachers still did not know what to plan. It had to be followed up with other small-group meetings the week before classes started.
- Chase Grant or Prep Teachers?: Said small-group meeting was derailed because the leader of the meeting unexpectedly had to deal with changes to our grant (which begins Monday) that morning and so was unable to be prepared for us.
- Logistical Detail Disaster: Remember how they pushed my class one hour earlier? Nobody thought about building access. The regular teacher who has a key is currently hospitalized. And the Nonprofit A staff who have keys to the building don’t normally come in until 9AM. The director is graciously coming in at 8AM to let us in. Yes, that’s zero set-up time for my first class. And a potential security issue in the future if the only people in the open building are small teachers in their classrooms.
- Technological Ineptitude: When I called Nonprofit A to see if I could come in today to at least drop off some materials, their voicemail message was the generic one that comes with the phone, confirming the telephone number but making no mention that I had reached Nonprofit A. An internet search to confirm the phone number and find their hours of operation showed that they don’t have a website. Seriously?
My Conclusion: We Have Low Overhead
I see too few people trying to do too much in too few hours. I see good things done poorly.
This is why it might actually drive me crazy one day when I hear that people interested in donating money are quite strongly opposed to said money going to overhead. This mentality implies the belief that somehow their money will magically help “the people who need it” more if the organizations trying desperately to serve them are as starved for resources, infrastructure, and staff hours as possible.
I strongly suspect that the reason we’re locked out of the building until class time is because budgets are too tight to have extra keys available and a safe place to store them.
I’m quite sure that there was no special meeting for teachers new to the college because there wasn’t the staff time available to run an orientation. I’m also positive that the office staff would have loved to send out an error-free schedule that was backed by lots of one-to-one talks with the teachers to be sure there was clarity and harmony in the department. The way things actually went just smacks of a scarcity of staff hours.
I’m sure that Nonprofit A would love to have a web presence, but I’m also sure they don’t want a crappy website that nobody has time to update anyway.
And nobody wants to be unprepared for a meeting, especially one you’re leading. But when your bread and butter grant changes under you four days before it starts, you kind of have to drop everything and respond. We’re so starved for funding that we have to sacrifice the very quality the funders are trying to encourage in order to just survive. They intend to underwrite excellent programming, but unreliability undermines it.
But what can we do?
Thus, My Conundrum
Everywhere I look in my work with nonprofits, I see broken systems and a dearth of the power necessary to fix them.
I see a great many people who are working hard and doing their best in good faith that it’s enough. If we just pour enough of ourselves into the effort, it will be enough, right? I’m hardly a seasoned veteran, but even I have seen more than one nonprofit worker get stressed out to the point of serious physical illness.
But I see little change. I no longer have the faith that just showing up as I am and doing my best is enough.
And I ask myself what my role in it all should be.