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behind door 1 The Conscious Pig

I have a colleague who loves to apologize for his misogynistic comments. To begin, hell say something completely moronic, or something completely understandable--doesnt matter. What matters is that his incredibly astute and sophisticated understanding of feminist linguistic politics sends up a flag for him (go ahead and read something into that, if you can manage not to lose your lunch over the idea). The opportunity to bask in the glory of his brilliant realization overcomes him and he stops, always mid-sentence. "Im sorry. That was sooo mis-aaaah-gynistic." The ensuing conversation always involves at least three more opportunities for him to say misogynistic and at least one, but probably two opportunities to say some form of the word patriarchy. For a kicker, he always concludes that his original stupid-ass point must stand and that he has a bona fide need for the allegedly misogynistic term or concept. (This is just what the world needs, linguistic BFQs.) Listening to his self-congratulatory musings on the oppression of women is one of my favorite ways to spend an afternoon. (Can you see me batting my long luxurious Sienna eyelashes?)

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Ive been lurking around here for a long time but havent managed to put up a real entry yet. Does this make me a slacker? That would be interesting since just being here seems to make everyone else a slacker. Nevertheless, I feel like a slacker for failing to post. So I thought Id debut with a theme that might provide me with more ideas for secrets to reveal later. If youre brave enough to join me in this game, just jump right in with "behind door #whatever.comes.next". My plan to help muddy the identity waters is to draw from lots of places and previous experiences, with just a dash of a pure fiction. That way the personalities wont add up to anything identifiable, or if they do add up to something-- You know the standard disclaimer.

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behind door 4 The Cowardly Angel

I knocked on Angels door, but there was no answer. I knocked again. Nothing. But I just saw her walk in, and unless she escaped out the window-- I went to my office and rang her phone. Busy. Maybe that explains it. Thirty minutes later the phone was still busy, so I returned to the door and banged vigorously. "ANGEL open the door!" The door opened. "Oh, I didnt know it was you!"

The Angel puts her home phone number on her syllabus and gives her cell phone number to every member of the faculty and staff at the university. She is warm, friendly, open, and accessible. Everyone loves her, and everyone thinks she is their best friend. Thats why right now shes hiding in the dark listening to the knocking and the ringing. She cant make it stop, and she cant possibly do all the things people want her to do. Its not humanly possible.

The Cowardly Angel is not a gendered identity, either (though the hiding-in-the-dark strategy might be). The first person I met like this was a powerful male figure in my discipline. College deans and university presidents are often like this, politicians, too. Still, I never really understood the phenomenon until the day I stood outside Angels door and discovered that she had the ability to sit there in the dark and listen to the knocking.

Disclaimer: Although I do think that all those people have some breaking point or way of dealing with the bottom line, I think their strategies vary, and this hiding in the dark is not the strategy of a famous person. Those people are behind door #3.

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Behind Door 3 No One

This is what kills me about my particular work environment. Im in a part of the building where in the abstract six other nicely-paid professors have their offices, and on the typical day I see maybe one or two of them. More commonly than I ever would have imagined when I took this job, none. They come in to dispatch their obligations and then go home, because they "work at home." My guess is that 20% or so of professors actually are more productive working at home, and they provide the rationalization for the astonishing ability of the rest of us to collect salaries far, far above the median for a full-time worker in the United States and yet get to stand in the hallways and complain like a war crime has been perpetrated upon us if schedules require us to come into our workplace more than three days a week.

Yes, I know, the best thing about this job is the autonomy. I agree. I know that academia favors those who are keep-to-themselves-types (even as it simultaneously favors those who are build-large-social-network-alliance-types). But, still.

I am sure it would bother me less if I wasnt single. If I had a family, I would love that I could come into the office and have Total Solitude Time. (And, yet also, Im sure Id have less of an opportunity to come into the office and have Total Solitude Time.) Not to sound pathetic, but its just not much fun to come into work and see no one and then go home and be by yourself as well.

A weird thing about this is that my institution gets very concerned about space and the balance between the principles that office space should be given based on (1) seniority vs (2) specialty area. The argument for the latter is that you put people with similar interests next to each other and soon youll need to wear sunglasses to work for all the blinding intellectual synergies that ensue. To which I have to physically take hold of my tongue to keep from screaming, "What the hell does it matter? No one is ever here!"

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Behind Door 6 Me

The semester has started, and the hallways are suddenly filled with imminent dangers: Advice-seeking students, administrators who want to dump committee work on me, lost people who want directions, more students, book buyers (who deserve a posting of their own). To make things worse, its Monday, and you know how much I hate that day! First I was torn between marking my presence (see, unlike some of my senior colleagues, I actually make it to school when I dont teach!) and getting some work done. Now that Ive given up on the presence thing (I need to get some work done!), Im sitting behind my closed door, anxiously waiting for inspiration to kick in. I feel like Ive set myself a trap...and I desperately need to pee. Help!

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Behind Door 5 The Newly but Distressingly Increasingly Absent Minded Professor

A graduate student e-mailed me earlier to report the following interaction with an elderly faculty member. A few days earlier, the Professor had returned a copy of Students vita and statements for the job market with suggestions for a revision. Then:

Professor: Can I have a copy of your vita and statements for the job market so
that I can use them to write my letter of recommendation?

Student: Sure. But I havent made the changes you suggested yet. Would you like
me to make those revisions first or to give you another copy as is?

Professor: Just give it to me as is. I just need it for reference.

Student prints documents and gives them to Professor. Then, 30 minutes later, Professor returns and hands the documents to Student, having marked them up with virtually the same revisions and comments as the versions given and returned a few days earlier.

Professor: I have a few suggestions for you. Ill need another copy of these so that I can write my letter of recommendation.

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behind door 2 Hair Boy

Hair boy is a junior faculty member of our department who uses ken-doll good looks and blow-dried hair to charm his way out of teaching service courses. Hair boy is a shameless self-promoter who will do anything to add a line to his CV, including stealing ideas from his masters-student advisees. I think hair boys charisma will get him tenure, even though his scholarship is mediocre.

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