Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Then Vlad the Impaler sent this email:

To the [Department] Faculty:

I have been asked to respond to the memo the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus sent
you all on March 2, in which some rather astonishing allegations were made
about my role on the Hiring Committee for a new faculty member in
[field of study]. I had hoped not to get into any
back-and-forth with them, and will not respond to anything hereafter, should
they choose to continue to engage this issue. However, I do think that
anyone in the department who is interested deserves to know what happened,
and I would like to present my version of reality in what has come to feel
like an unbelievably Kafkaesque scenario.

First, as I told both of them over and over (and over), I DO NOT know either
Candidate A or Candidate B. The information they found online--about
which they never approached me for any sort of clarification, preferring
instead to leap to conclusions that directly refuted what I had clearly told
them--refers to a workshop at [academic conference] several years ago that Candidate A was scheduled to attend. (She did not attend.) I had come to know of her work
through listserv communications of the committee on which we both were active (solely online, up to that point--the committee never met in person till the year in question). When it turned out she could not attend, she nonetheless sent many wonderful materials for the committee's use. It was this work--that is, her online contributions to the listserv, and the materials she sent--that impressed me. She probably left that credit on her c.v. because she did, in fact, contribute more
significantly than many of those who did attend. (Anyone is welcome to
write to her and ask her; I haven't told her just how insane this whole
episode has become.) Mister Rogers was also at that workshop, and I think
you will find, if you ask himm, that he did not meet Candidate A, either.
(Though of course, Mister Rogers could be in on the conspiracy.)

Because I very much respected her work and knew that she was a recent Ph.D.
in [field of writing], I emailed her to call her attention to our position
and suggest that she might want to apply. (This is entirely customary in
professional circles--I have received several such invitations myself from
colleagues across the country, and I'm sure others in our department have,
too.) She replied that both she and her husband, Candidate B, were
interested (and both were qualified). They subsequently sent me their
c.v.'s so that I could tell them whether they seemed appropriate for the
job, and whether it was worth applying. I was excited about their
c.v.s--they seemed like people who could potentially make a great
contribution to our school and our writing program, on multiple levels--and I
showed them to several people in the department. I asked [the dean] about
joint hires at that time because I wanted to give them a realistic sense of
what they might expect. They decided to apply anyway.

This was near the beginning of our advertising for the position, and we had
yet to see all the other c.v.s, but I was heartened to know that AT LEAST we
had two candidates who were, in my opinion, highly suitable for the job. As
a longterm member of the [departmental program] who is eager to see the program
grow under the aegis of the most talented and committed faculty possible, I
felt that if we found people better than them, fantastic, but at least there
was some reason to be hopeful we would attract SOME appropriate candidates.
As I explained to others here several times, I had been involved in a search
for a new faculty member in [field of study[ at [another institution] the year I was there as a visiting professor, and I had a good sense of what we might expect. Most of the people who applied at [the other institution] were rather dry, technical types (prone to charts, numbers, systems, and the like) who didn't seem as if they'd particularly relate to or fit in with an English department. They were also overwhelmingly (as I said to the department on more than one occasion) white men (with an occasional white woman). The person we ended up hiring there was the ONLY candidate of color I knew about for that position. (He was also, without question, the most qualified candidate who applied, and proved to be a brilliant hire.)

It was clear that nobody else on the hiring commitee in our department was
familiar with the field [under consideration], nor really understood what it was. (This became especially clear in our early discussions, when it was asserted that courses in, say, website design could just as easily be taught by the people in IT. As, subsequently, one of our candidates aptly put it at his interview, that is like saying that because you know how to write letters, you know how to write, and there's no need for writing instruction. IT teaches the technical basics;
professional/technical writing people in our field teach about the
rhetorical and stylistic issues involved in building websites, much as we
teach the rhetorical and stylistic issues involved in writing an essay.)
Though other members of the committee are, presumably, members of the
Conference on College Composition and Communication (the principal
professional organization for teachers of college writing), and are, I have
been told, connected to some of the minority caucuses there, they did not
invite anyone to apply and drew no candidates other than those who applied
to our general advertisements. (I myself forwarded the job announcement to
several of the relevant caucuses of CCCC.)

As one can see from glancing at the English Department Meeting minutes of
a recent meeting, Santa Claus presented, at that meeting, three proposals:

"1. the currently constituted hiring committee should make a concerted
effort to attract and recruit minority candidates, giving these candidates,
all things being equal, a clear preference in regards to hiring;
2. positions in the [subject] concentration should be filled with
candidates who have a terminal degree in composition and rhetoric;
3. a member of the hiring committee should be recused if he or she knows a
candidate as a personal friend."

It subsequently says in the minutes: "After some discussion, the first
motion was withdrawn because it was felt that this is already the stated
goal of the committee (individuals with suggestions for venues through which
to recruit minority candidates were encouraged to contact General George Armstrong Custer, Casper the Friendly Ghost,
and Vlad the Impaler--Captain Kangaroo suggested the College Language Association Journal)."

I was baffled to discover, then, that the ONLY minority candidate we could
identify, one who had the requisite degree and a host of interesting credits
and highly enthusiastic recommendations, was dismissed out of hand by the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. Though they contended he was unqualified, they refused to
engage in discussion with the committee about his qualifications. (In fact,
Santa Claus had come to the meeting when we were to discuss the finalists
without even having reviewed their files, and thus did not vote on the final
rankings.) When others (not just myself) expressed strong interest in
Candidate B (and two other candidates), the Easter Bunny, who as chair was poised to record our rankings as a prelude to discussion, simply put down his pen, claimed
the whole process was rigged, and resigned from the committee (as did
Santa Claus).

"Qualifications" are, of course, subjective; that is why vigorous discussion
and democratic procedures are important. It was especially absurd that
discussion of the candidates' qualifications was pre-empted by two committee
members' insistence that their interpretation was the only possible
conclusion one could draw, rather than engaging in the sort of productive
give-and-take--even, if necessary, debate--that any legitimate process
requires.

Regarding some of the other allegations in the Easter Bunny's and Santa Claus's memo, I can only strongly say that their version of most events is patently
untrue. The rest of the department can choose to believe what they wish (or
simply disentangle themselves from this whole absurd situation), but I am
completely clear about the veracity of the following:

1. The Easter Bunny said to me on several occasions, "I'm not going to hire some
[person of particular nationality]," and "We don't need [a person of that particular nationality] in this department." He said it twice to me when I first told him about Candidate A and Candidate B, in my office (in fact, I was so flabbergasted that I discussed it with several people over the winter break, trying to make sense of it); he said it at the committee's first meeting; and he said it at the subsequent meeting, when he and Santa Claus resigned. At the committee's first meeting, when he said (with others present), "I'm not going to hire some [person of particular nationality]," I said, "Can I quote you on that?" He replied, with broad sarcasm, "Sure, go ahead--let everybody know that I'm the racist in the department." Afterwards, he came and fished me out of the class I was teaching to say he had changed his mind and put Candidate B back in with the finalists. I did have the impression that he'd realized you can't eliminate candidates with statements like that.

2. I did not, then or ever, call the Easter Bunny a "racist." It's not a term I fling around lightly, at anyone, least of all at the Easter Bunny, who is generally highly aware of and sensitive to issues of race (as I know from innumerable
conversations through the years). I found what he said to be astounding and
utterly perplexing, and extremely out of line, but the word "racist" most
definitely came from him.

3. As soon as I entered the room for the first hiring committee meeting and
we were to begin discussion, the Easter Bunny said, "Vlad the Impaler will recuse herself from discussing Candidate A." When I asked why, I was told, "Because she's
your friend." When I asserted that she was neither my friend nor my
acquaintance, and explained that I had never met her but knew of, and
respected, her work via CCCC committee work (as I have explained here,
above), Santa Claus insisted that I had written on her application folder that
she WAS my friend. I produced the folder in question, where I had written
very clearly that I didn't know her personally but respected her work (for
reasons explained above). Santa Claus pounced on that as, somehow, evidence
that I DID know her. (I'm still not sure what part of "I don't know her
personally" Santa Claus doesn't understand.)

4. It took quite a bit of urging, at that first meeting, to get the Easter Bunny and
Santa Claus to discuss the candidates at all. They argued strongly to simply
cancel the whole search process, either to put it off for next year or to
substitute, instead, an altogether different search for a different
position. (Bear in mind that the entire department convened last fall to
decide, together, what position would we ask for, and after a long, open
discussion, this was the mandate the hiring committee received.) Though
they cited the relatively small pool of applicants and the paucity of
minority candidates, they refused, at first, to even discuss the
applications we DID have (among which were some highly qualified people).
They subsequently put out a memo to the whole department moving that we
scrap this search and instead hire someone in a different area. They
presented this memo as being from "The Hiring Committee," though I had
specifically told the Easter Bunny(when he came to my office to ask me about it before the meeting) that I strongly opposed this move, and Casper the Friendly Ghost and Conan the Barbarian had not even been consulted about it. At the later meeting when we were to discuss the finalists' folders, they again said that we shouldn't be hiring for this position, but rather, for another one altogether. I pointed out
that the time to raise that had been at the meeting last fall, not now,
after we had gone through an entire search process. I do not, in fact,
recall either the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus arguing last fall against hiring a
[subject] specialist.

5. I didn't argue at all for Candidate A. Three of the committee members
had voted "yes" for her to make the first cut, and two (you can guess who)
had voted "no" (the Easter Bunny produced the chart with our responses); after some brief discussion, we settled on seven other finalists. (I did argue against the
summary elimination of Candidate B without any specific reasons given for him [sic] being "unqualified," and yes, I did feel that as our only minority
candidate, and one that seemed very promising to others among us, he should
be considered and dicussed beyond the first cut.)

6. When I called our top three choices to arrange for interviews, I found
that two already had jobs (or offers). I actually spent over an hour on the
phone with one of them--about whom we'd all felt enthusiastic--helping him
to figure out what he wanted to do, and suggesting in various ways that he
still consider [our school]. (He said that he would have loved to come here, had we
only contacted him when all the other schools did, but now it was too late.)
I spent a considerable amount of time on the phone and email with the
finalists we ultimately settled on for campus visits, trying to give them
each every possible advantage in understanding what we were looking for, and
inviting them to call me at home with any questions they had (which they
did).

7. I do agree with the Easter Bunny's and Santa Claus's contention that I wrote on Omidvar's file, "This is the first clearly minority candidate I've come across....."
Given the expressed feelings of the department, and Santa Claus's own motion
(see December minutes, above), this seemed highly in keeping with executing
the wishes of the larger group. I would further add that, to my knowledge,
the English department has never had a full-time faculty member who is
[from a particular part of the world], and that such a faculty member would certainly add to the diversity of our department. (At no point, however, did I even imply that this alone was a reason to hire him, which I do feel would be ridiculous and insulting.) The Easter Bunny said to me several times, "I don't have any students in my classes [of said nationality]." I, however, have had numerous
students [from said global region and religion] in my classes, and I am sure they would be just as happy as anyone else to find their own backgrounds represented among the English department faculty, and are disadvantaged just as much as anyone else by the lack of such representation.

As I said at the very beginning of this letter, I was asked to write a memo
to the department explaining what happened. I should add, in the interest
of full disclosure, that the request was actually to write a "short memo."
The art of the short memo, is alas, something I still haven't quite
mastered, and the responsibility for the voluminous detail here is all mine.
However, as promised, I'm exiting the conversation here, and won't reply to
anything else.

Thanks for your time.

Over and out,
Vlad the Impaler

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