Wounded selves of ad hoc teachers
RECENTLY, a bright young ad hoc teacher of a leading college of Delhi University (DU) died by suicide. Possibly, apart from sending the formalised condolence message, the academic bureaucracy would not like to go in for honest self-reflection or understand and admit that institutionalised malice perpetually demoralises and demotivates ad hoc teachers and forces them to live with chronic anxiety, insecurity and the fear of losing their job. In fact, the politically appointed techno-managers who run our universities are more interested in praising the ‘new education policy’, introducing courses such as the ‘Art of Being Happy’, or to put it more specifically, celebrating DU’s centenary year. Who bothers about the suicide of a young college teacher — and that too at a time when even young students of the same institution did not find it proper to cancel the college festival?
The system in DU is functioning because of the hard work and academic brilliance of thousands of ad hoc teachers.
Well, in these dark times nothing matters more than the ‘ranking’ or ‘branding’ of the institution, ‘showcasing’ the list of publications, conferences and awards, and making the political establishment happy. Yet, all those who still love the vocation of teaching must come forward, understand that if we continue to play with the fate of ad hoc teachers, no one can avoid the recurrence of the kind of mental and existential agony the recent incident of suicide revealed. Move around the colleges of DU, and if your eyes are truly open, you realise that the system is functioning because of the hard work and academic brilliance of thousands of ad hoc teachers — and some of them have been teaching for more than 15 years with no assurance that they will be made ‘permanent’. Talk to them. And if your heart aches, you feel the intensity of their anxiety, fear and even humiliation. In fact, in a system that is hierarchical and asymmetrical, ad hoc teachers or ‘guest’ lecturers are not treated equally, even though like ‘permanent’ teachers, they are teaching the same courses, and participating in other activities. A sense of ‘othering’ haunts them.
Let me narrate the tales of pain and anguish an ‘ad hoc’ teacher shared with me: “It doesn’t matter if it is killing me from within. It doesn’t matter if I am feeling the suffocation of having to prove my worth every day as I walk into the college and participate in multiple other activities apart from the curriculum teaching.” Likewise, another ‘ad hoc’ teacher of a ‘top ranking’ DU college expressed his angst: “There is a clear-cut hierarchy between permanent teachers and ad hoc teachers in the department. In a very subtle and sophisticated way, permanent teachers make you realise that you are inferior to them and at the receiving end.”
Yes, this time as the DU administration has decided to fill these positions, ad hoc teachers are applying for permanent positions, and with a legitimate hope that their rich experience of teaching, research and service to the university will be taken into account in the selection process. Samarveer Singh — the philosophy teacher who ended his life — too cherished this hope, and faced the interview board. However, he was rejected; he lost his job. He could not bear the stigma of this rejection, and ended his life. Well, not everyone would take the extreme step; but then, as ad hoc teachers, barring some exceptions, are routinely rejected by the selection committees, and are losing their jobs even after serving the college/university for years, we must articulate our voice and talk about the farce that is taking place in the name of ‘interviewing’ the candidates.
As a retired faculty member with more than three decades of teaching/research experience, I have no hesitation in saying that most of us as ‘experts’ do not bother to cultivate the art of listening, and understanding or evaluating a young candidate’s specific research aptitudes, or the academic skill as a potential teacher. Quite often, with the exercise of power or some sort of sadism, we tend to ask them anything at random (almost like a quiz contest), exploit the emotional vulnerability of the candidates, and make them feel that they know nothing. And as there seems to be no limit to the number of candidates called for the interview, you are ‘lucky’ if the selection committee is ‘generous’ enough to give you three minutes. Imagine the degree of pathology prevalent in the academic circuit. A good teacher or researcher shapes the future of generations of students. But then, we are in a hurry; and to take a real example, if a candidate with a highly appreciated thesis in sociology fails to recall, say, the name of French sociologist Auguste Comte’s father — a meaningless question asked by a hollow and arrogant ‘expert’ — she is humiliated. This absurdity has acquired yet another dimension at a time when, as it is believed, the candidate’s ‘nationalist’ ideology or political ‘networking’ skill has begun to acquire more importance than his/her teaching experience and academic brilliance. It is, therefore, not surprising that many ad hoc teachers with 10 to 15 years of teaching experience and good reputation are living with terrible anxiety. These days it takes only two minutes for the ‘experts’ to reject them!
Well, the campus politics, the pathology of internal rivalry amid hyper-competitiveness, the complex dynamics of department-related interpersonal relationships and the chronic job insecurity often act as obstacles. No wonder it becomes exceedingly difficult for the teaching community to come together, articulate their voice (not just Twitter messages), express psychic solidarity with bright ad hoc teachers, generate a movement to save higher education from the politico-administrative and ideological assault, and create an academic environment filled with professional integrity, intellectual honesty and above all, the self-dignity of the young faculty.
