Teaching is a Job, in Grad School and Out

The NLRB is gearing up to implement a new rule which would establish that graduate students, even when acting as teaching assistants, are not "employees" of the university and therefore are not entitled to labor law protections (such as the right to unionize). This is the latest swing in an ongoing battle over that issue at the NLRB, which has largely tracked partisan politics: grad students first won the right to unionize under a Clinton-appointee controlled board in 2000, lost it under the Bush administration in 2004, gained it back under Obama in 2016, and are poised to lose it again under Trump in 2019.

The logic of the argument that grad students are not employees is that we are primarily students, and our teaching roles are extensions of our role as students. I'm somewhat uniquely positioned to address this, as I became a graduate student after serving as a (non-permanent) faculty member at two universities, and thus was able to compare whether and to what degree serving as a graduate student instructor (Berkeley's term for a teaching assistant) differed from teaching as a faculty member.

Here's my answer: there's virtually no difference.

There are many things I've done at UC-Berkeley as a "student". Most obviously, I enrolled in classes for credit. I wrote a master's thesis, and will write a dissertation. In these roles, my relationship to the departmental faculty is pedagogical -- they are there to teach and mentor me, and I interact with them in effectively the same way as I did to my teachers as an undergraduate or a secondary school student.

But as far as Berkeley is concerned, I do not teach classes to be taught how to teach. I teach classes because Berkeley needs people to teach classes, and they've decided I'm qualified to do it. As a GSI, both my day-to-day and semester-long routines are effectively the same as when I was a faculty member. I build my own lesson plans, hold office hours, give lectures, grade papers, write letters of recommendation, and often times create assignments. Nothing in how GSI work is structured remotely resembles any pedagogical practice akin to the professor/student relation that exists when I, say, submit a dissertation draft. As a GSI, I receive effectively no mentoring or even oversight by faculty members (indeed, in three of the four classes I've taught as GSI, the lead instructor was another graduate student). The only substantial difference between being a lecturer at the law school and a GSI in the political science department is that in the latter case I do not have control of my class's overall syllabus -- but all this means is that I'm a worker underneath a boss. To the extent that Berkeley has taken an interest in teaching me how to teach, it's done so through a class in pedagogy. It is an accident of structure that my GSI responsibilities come attached to my studies as a PhD student -- they are scarcely different in form than what I would be doing if I was an adjunct instructor.

This ruling will not directly affect me (it only applies to private universities). And I say all of this as someone who has had a sometimes adversarial relationship with my own graduate student union. But that doesn't change the obvious fact that when I teach, I'm engaging in work, not study, and the law should therefore treat me as a worker, not a student. The determination that graduate students serving as teaching assistants are not acting as "employees" but as "students" is patently absurd to anyone who has ever worked as TA.

The Rosetta Stone of English Departments Everywhere

SEK in the comments to this post: "If I learned one thing in grad school, it's that if it's longer than it is wide, it's a penis."

The Verdict

Now I can die happy. 10 seconds from now, when Calculon kills us. -- Harold Zoid.

Ladies and gentleman, the die has been cast, and the (e-)letter is in the (e-)mail. Next year, I will officially join the University of Chicago's class of 2011.

I've been vague about how this whole law/grad school thing was playing out. Didn't want to jinx anything. But now that it's over, I can give y'all the full run down.

In terms of success rate, I batted a solid 8/20 -- 6/9 law, and 2/11 Ph.D (so, less solid on that front). I was admitted at the law schools of UVA, Michigan, Berkeley (Boalt), NYU, Columbia, and Chicago, and rejected at Yale, Harvard, and Stanford (no waitlists for me!). As for the Ph.Ds, I got in at UVA and Berkeley (Jurisprudence and Social Policy for the latter, Political Science for UVA and all the others) and was turned down at (*breath*) Yale, Harvard, Stanford, Chicago, Columbia, NYU, Michigan, Brown, and Princeton. As my roommate said, potentially this was sign that law school was the better place for me. Or as Phoebe and Amber would say, maybe I'm just not bright enough for Ph.D work. As for me, I'm blaming my "interesting" (in the wrong way) statement of research interest (that was by a prof at Berkeley's JSP program -- one of the programs that admitted me!).

But that's old news now, and law school was really always my first choice over grad school. The J.D. I know I need for what I want to do, the Ph.D I specifically hope I don't need.

So why Chicago specifically then? Well, I was always making my choice based on what would best get me positioned to enter legal academia. In the interest of not agonizing over too many choices, I let that cut the list down to NYU, Columbia, and Chicago. NYU had the Furman Academic Fellows program, which looked interesting, but then they didn't admit me to it, which was demoralizing. They also put a time limit on their financial aid offer that expired well before I was ready to make a decision (ironically, it appears they extended the deadline until today without telling me, but by now I'd already dismissed them as an option). That left Chicago and Columbia, the only two schools I actually visited.

Both, it should be said, were fine schools and I felt quite happy and comfortable at each when I visited. When I asked if anyone had any inclination towards one or the other, my adviser at Carleton (who, I believe, is starting to sicken of me) told me: "David, flip a coin if you have to." I didn't quite do that, but I did end up making my decision on very "soft" factors: namely, that something about NYC rubs me the wrong way, and that Chicago's smaller size just felt more comfortable to me. Chicago in general had a "vibe" that I liked -- it reminded me much of Carleton, in fact. Really, I had nothing to go on but my gut instinct, which (very tepidly) leaned towards Chicago. With the deadline looming, and no stronger reason to go one way or the other, I went with it.

So that's that. But I can't resist giving a few superlatives at the end of this process.

The Silent Treatment Award goes to Stanford University, held onto my application wordlessly for about five months before denying me. Harvard took just as long (well, actually they denied me one week before Stanford did), but at least they sent periodic emails letting me know I was still on the planet (not to mention their wonderful J.D. admissions blog). And when I wrote them an email, they wrote back (albeit, to tell me that they don't accept emails, so please mail them). Stanford maintained a studious silence throughout the whole ordeal. I actually wondered if my rejection had got lost in the mail (I assumed rejection, because I figured if I had been admitted they would have followed up at least once to insure I was still alive).

Most Enthusiastic: UC-Berkeley. The Berkeley people were very helpful whenever I wrote to them, but that's not why they get the award. Around the time I got admitted to Berkeley, a spammer got ahold of my telephone number and started making bogus calls to me for about one week. During that week, I got four calls from the spammer -- and five from Berkeley. Advantage, California.

Most Guilt-Inducing: UVA. First, they admitted me to both their J.D. and Ph.D program. Second, one of my former Carleton professors (who now is at UVA) specifically went to bat for me come selection time -- responding to the specific objection that I likely wouldn't attend (prescient, that one). Third, the political science department nominated me for a very prestigious fellowship. All of this occurred with it being extremely unlikely that I'd attend. And then, when I turned down the law school, they asked me to fill out a survey explaining why, which was very awkward.

Oh, and you might be wondering about the Futurama quote at the top of the post. That's because I'm expected PG to send trained assassins out to kill me now. She's graduating law school, she can afford it. So, it's been quite a ride, and nice knowing everyone.

Mr. Washington

Attention, law/grad schools! If you really want me to attend, this is an excellent idea. The amount of money is almost immaterial -- it's the performance that counts:

a friend in the office suggested we lay in a supply of thin black briefcases for grad and faculty recruitment purposes. we could cash out financial offers or start-up funds in one dollar bills, secure them in 50-note currency straps, and pack them into a stylish attaché case. if a recruit starts to waver, we'd pop it open dramatically, saying, perhaps mr. washington and his friends might change your mind. we don't have huge funds to throw around, but we can usually chip in fifty for gas.

Only grad students, of course, could be wowed by a brief case full of singles.

Victory?

The Comics Curmudgeon reflects on grad school:

"When I was in graduate school, my roommate and I decided to celebrate some minor life victory (and when you're in graduate school, every victory is minor)...."

I haven't made a decision on my future. In fact, I can't, seeing as there are certain schools that still have yet to make a decision as to whether I'll get to make a decision on them. I would say that if they don't hurry up, I'll have to forget them, but that's a lie: one I would attend in a heartbeat even if they accepted me a day before classes began, and the other I'd at least consider dropping my deposit for.

Burning that Candle Power

Eric Johnson wonders if we're wasting intelligence on law students:

For every extra bit of talent that matriculates into business school, real wealth will be created, our economy will grow stronger, and people will be better off. For every extra IQ point that heads to medical school, more lives will be saved, more pain will be soothed, and people will be healthier.

But, since justice in America is based on the adversarial system, isn’t every bright law student just cancelled out by another equally bright classmate? Is the legal profession just an arms race that squanders talent in the overall scheme of things?

These questions are not limited to the litigation context. Think of the tens of thousands of hours of brilliance that goes into outsmarting the tax code. I sure don’t blame folks for doing it. But does the effort leave us all better off?

Of course, the nine billion posts warning anyone with a pulse to stay away from law school strikes me as proof that you can't be too smart to enter a field everyone appears to hate.

But I'm different -- I want to teach, not practice. Of course, there's an equally strong case I'm just option F on Amber's taxonomy of law school attendees.

Latecomers

For those of y'all who have been through the law and graduate school process, I have a question for you.

As you might already know, I applied to 20 programs -- 9 law, 11 Ph.D. Of those, I have as of today heard back from 12 (6 law, 6 Ph.D). We're entering March now -- getting towards the end of the process.

My thought process thus far regarding the late places has been essentially that I am, in some ways, a difficult candidate. My test scores place me a good bracket or so higher than my GPA does -- in fact, for the remaining law schools, my GPA is well below their admitted 25th percentile while my LSAT scores are comfortably above their 75th. My non-numerical profile is strong, but not invincible -- I can see how it'd be really appealing, and I can see how it'd be run of the mill. So, I assumed, the delay was simply that I'm a tough choice, and they're putting it off.

Now I'm wondering if there isn't a more mundane explanation: schools are simply not in as big of a hurry to get back to those they rejected (or, to be more charitable, they are less excited to reject folks than they are to accept them). This is, to some extent, anecdotal -- I started the process off red-hot, but four of the last six decisions I've received have been denials. That could be explained by lots of things or nothing or paranoia on my part. And I want to stress that the places I have been admitted to are fantastic programs -- I am in a great situation even if I don't get into a single other school.

But I do wonder -- do programs still admit folks this late? Or is what I see all I've got? I just don't want to put off thinking about where I should go next year in the vain hope that I still have a chance in the tardy schools.

Advice appreciated.

Distinctively David

It's been a tumultuous few months, and we're not quite out of the woods yet, but I can see light at the end of the tunnel. Most notably, today I presented and defended my senior thesis (you might be familiar with it). As of today, I will officially graduate Carleton College with distinction in Political Science.*

This was a big time commitment. And while I still have the normal coursework and final papers for this term to do, getting this done will free up a lot of mental energy. Hopefully, you'll see me back around these parts soon enough -- at least until I dedicate myself full time to visiting grad programs.

* Carleton gives the typical Latin honors based on cumulative GPA, and individual departments have the discretion to award "distinction" to their denizens based on criteria which vary from department to department.

Away From Carleton

I'm taking a swing through the University of Virginia from Thursday through Saturday. My computer will tag along, but I have a pretty full schedule while I'm there, so if I don't communicate, see you next week!

Why I Want To Go To Grad School

I want to be this TA.

Variety is Nice

I just got admitted to my first Ph.D program (in political science). No details for you (email me if you want them), but it is a school which has also admitted me to its law program.

Finished!

It's been three and a half months of work. And the fun part is just beginning. But as of tonight, I have completed all my applications. Nine law schools and eleven Political Science Ph.D programs.

I've got to get into one, right?

Comedy Is a Dead Art. Now Tragedy! That's Funny!

Is there a grad student alive in the Western World with worse luck than Scott Eric Kaufman? I should thank him for literally being a magnet for bad karma.

But he's a good guy, so I hope everything turns out okay. And he wins the lottery for good measure.

Observations on Applications

As I finally start to get ahead of the endless torrent of applications I'm filling out, a few observations I wanted to get down on virtual paper. Most are recommendations and/or complaints to the shadowy cabal that designs these cursed things.

- The more you can let me send in online, the better. Making me send a thirty-five page writing sample by mail, rather than upload it, is ridiculous. However, I do actually give Chicago a minor exemption here, because they require it to come in with my transcript -- meaning it's the transcript office that has to deal with it, not me.

- Exception to the preceding rule: transcripts should not be submitted online -- at least until colleges start providing a mechanism for transmitting them. Until then, it's just awkward.

- Admissions office mailing addresses need to be reasonable. Name of office, street #, city, state, zip code is fine. Name of office, name of person, hall, room #, street #, city, state, zip code is not. Stanford, I'm looking at you.

- The more information you can give me about my chances of admission, the happier I'll be. Yale Law School, for example, breaks down its last three years of admissions into a grid matching LSAT scores to GPAs. I am gratified to know that my 177 LSAT raises my admissions chance from about 5% to 10%. Depressed, but gratified. The University of Virginia also scores points in this category. Places that just say "higher than this score", by contrast, are useless -- I don't know if being higher than that means my chances are good, or that they won't just use my application for paper football. This is particularly so when (as so often is the case for me), my LSAT/GRE scores are on opposite side of the cut-off from my GPA.

- The degree of centralization the LSDAS has managed to put together is truly impressive -- and welcome. I can do nearly everything online (except, oddly enough, submit recommendation forms, which seems to be a gimme). Grad schools are sort of following suit, and there appear to be a variety of different online services that manage applications. So Brown and Princeton are with one group, while Yale and Columbia are in another. However, if you're going to use an online service, make sure it's stable. Nothing is more aggravating than being in the middle of an application and having "Embark" crash on you. Like it does about once per session, on average.

- Also, be intelligent when designing your applications. NYU wouldn't let me preview my application until I checked the box acknowledging I had previewed my application. I do not appreciate being forced to lie, NYU.

- December 1st deadlines are really inconvenient for a college whose term ends on November 20th. December 15th is fine, though.

- Finally, at this stage in the game, I'm feeling roughly equally positive towards the schools that let me know their decision promptly as am towards the ones that actually admit me. This might change if I start the Winter Term on a five school rejection streak.