![]() ![]() The extent of the invitation I give to people who come to my office is: “Hi, how are you?” (And not: “How arrre you?”) Yet I admit that I sometimes feel like a magnet for these conversations.Ī small group of academics - primarily women - end up taking on this kind of care-work at colleges and universities. I want to shout, “I’m not inviting it, either!” I don’t ask students (or faculty) about their personal lives. Such comments leave me feeling exasperated. ![]() But many women colleagues do as well - as in “I just won’t tolerate it. When I mention the frequency of these types of conversations in my office or point to the tissue box I keep on my desk, a few women colleagues nod their heads knowingly, but many professors act baffled: Why would someone cry in your office? Men in particular say that. The difference is also marked by the fact that these conversations occur in my office, at work, often with an appointment. I’m friendly with the colleagues and students who are approaching me to have a confidential conversation, but they are not people I spend time with outside the office nor people whom I would talk to if I needed help with a problem. They can affect peoples’ careers and shape decisions about them.įinally, these conversations are also different from friendship. The conversations I’m talking about, however, are the underbelly of that work. The kinds of conversations I’m talking about are also different from general advising of students and junior faculty members about the content of academic work, career strategies, socialization into the academy, and such. Gossip is not as private as the conversations I’m talking about here. Gossip is often about who said what, who liked which job candidate, who got an award or didn’t, who blocked some initiative that others wanted, or who said something negative about someone else. Academic gossip happens within groups and across them. It gathers behind closed doors before meetings and runs through the hallways afterward. These conversations are different from gossip. Invariably, these conversations all begin and/or end with the same phrase: “This is confidential, right?” A colleague made a sexist joke at their expense, or tore apart their paper with ad hominem attacks. They were forced to drive a faculty member to the airport, at that professor’s insistence. They are having an affair with a married member of the department. They told a racist joke in a meeting and now feel horrible and want to fix it. They’re having a hard time deciding whether to get pregnant. Their adviser told them they shouldn’t get pregnant, or their adviser won’t take them seriously because they are pregnant. Their child is depressed, nearly suicidal, or hospitalized. I’m a female professor at a research university, where faculty members and students - especially graduate students - regularly show up at my office, often after sending me a vague email asking if I have time to talk. I’m not a therapist, a counselor, a social worker, a minister, or a psychologist. I estimate that someone cries in my office at least once every three weeks. ![]()
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