My Years at the Degree Mill

Welcome to for-profit higher education, where a degree’s just a pricey commodity, and an instructor’s a troublesome budget line.

Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash

Before I had a career, I had a PhD that I had no clue what to do with, and the chronic illness earning that PhD had given me.

I could not work the way the academy had trained me to — in long monastic bouts locked away in an office, the cold overhead lights casting my sad grey reflection onto the starless night in the windows. I only had a few hours of energy in me. I could walk for a little while each day, and complete a couple of rote tasks or write some emails, but then I’d feel a predictable chill — and it wasn’t long after the chill started that I would be woozy and feverish and need to lie down under multiple blankets and sweat away the rest of the day.

It was during this time that I found a part-time job that was, at least, sustainable for my ailing body. I’d be teaching online classes for a university many hundreds of miles away from where I lived, mostly large-enrollment, basic requirement courses like Intro to Psychology or Social Psychology. In addition, I would be paid a small stipend to mentor the next generation of graduate students, and serve as the advisor on dozens of those students’ dissertations.

The position came with no benefits or job security. I had no long-term contract, just bi-monthly paychecks rolling in that could be terminated at any time, even in the middle of a term.

The job requirements were harsh: I had to be sure to respond to all student messages within twenty-four hours, and grade all submitted assignments within a week, or else I would be fired without notice. There were monthly all-hands meetings I was required to attend, though I had no say in when they were scheduled, and they often conflicted with my other jobs or my doctor’s appointments.

I was assigned classes and PhD students seemingly at random, with zero input in the matter, then held fully responsible for all my students’ academic success. A part-timer with four other jobs myself, I was my students’ sole source of career support, performance evaluation, and academic advising.