Another Bad-Great Day at the University of Nebraska
Well, it's another bad day for the University of Nebraska and financial scandal. The Lincoln Journal-Star is on the job again, this time with a headline that reads
$40,000,000!
or the amount of money that's charged each year on credit cards held by University of Nebraska employees, much of which has gone for non-approved items. (As a friend and I said to each other, "Where do we sign up for these credit cards?" I don't know of any faculty members who have them.)
So now, in addition to my Porsche Cayenne, I want my $628 fountain pen and my $15,000 airline ticket to China. (Yes, you read that figure right. I wonder what kind of legroom that buys?) I'd like my $3,500 worth of office furniture and decorations, and I'd like my golf outing, please. Not that I play golf, but you know. I could walk around and ogle the plaid.
What sucks the most about this, though, is that regular folks are going to look at that massive $$$ number and those flagrant violations of policy, and, in the midst of a depressed economy, they're going to think the whole enterprise of higher education is one nasty hog-trough, when in fact these perks aren't making it down to the people who actually teach their kids. Which is a shame. I've got classroom computer equipment that won't work out here, folks, and no markers for the dry erase boards.
However, all y'all out there who are fellow members of the money-isn't-everything club can enjoy this video my sweet son Grey spontaneously, coincidentally just sent, called "What Teachers Make," a nice little piece of talkback from Taylor Mali.
In other news, a big warm congratulations to the outstanding young poet and creative nonfiction writer Madeline Wiseman, who just passed her oral capstone. ABD, baby! All but done.
And can I just gush for a second about what a fascinating experience it is to do an oral Ph.D. exam with not only a super student but also the iconic Hilda Raz, Barbara DiBernard, and Amelia Montes? Like, it almost makes giving up a Friday afternoon kind of fun. Like, when I flash back to 3 years ago at all-male Wabash, I can see that an afternoon like this one was almost unimaginable to me then. Five women in a room, conversing on the doctoral level about poetics, pedagogy, and trauma? We've come a long way, baby. Yes, sir.
We all have. Bottoms up.
or the amount of money that's charged each year on credit cards held by University of Nebraska employees, much of which has gone for non-approved items. (As a friend and I said to each other, "Where do we sign up for these credit cards?" I don't know of any faculty members who have them.)
So now, in addition to my Porsche Cayenne, I want my $628 fountain pen and my $15,000 airline ticket to China. (Yes, you read that figure right. I wonder what kind of legroom that buys?) I'd like my $3,500 worth of office furniture and decorations, and I'd like my golf outing, please. Not that I play golf, but you know. I could walk around and ogle the plaid.
What sucks the most about this, though, is that regular folks are going to look at that massive $$$ number and those flagrant violations of policy, and, in the midst of a depressed economy, they're going to think the whole enterprise of higher education is one nasty hog-trough, when in fact these perks aren't making it down to the people who actually teach their kids. Which is a shame. I've got classroom computer equipment that won't work out here, folks, and no markers for the dry erase boards.
However, all y'all out there who are fellow members of the money-isn't-everything club can enjoy this video my sweet son Grey spontaneously, coincidentally just sent, called "What Teachers Make," a nice little piece of talkback from Taylor Mali.
In other news, a big warm congratulations to the outstanding young poet and creative nonfiction writer Madeline Wiseman, who just passed her oral capstone. ABD, baby! All but done.
And can I just gush for a second about what a fascinating experience it is to do an oral Ph.D. exam with not only a super student but also the iconic Hilda Raz, Barbara DiBernard, and Amelia Montes? Like, it almost makes giving up a Friday afternoon kind of fun. Like, when I flash back to 3 years ago at all-male Wabash, I can see that an afternoon like this one was almost unimaginable to me then. Five women in a room, conversing on the doctoral level about poetics, pedagogy, and trauma? We've come a long way, baby. Yes, sir.
We all have. Bottoms up.
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