How are online degrees viewed? (A response)

The following is a modified version of my response to a question asked in the MLA Commons.

The original question was essentially that the professor had a student who wanted to pursue her master's, but because her husband was in the military, had to do an online degree or wait for another PCS (Permanent Change of Station) move to do so.

Here is my edited (for direct criticisms of my current program; I know better than to bite the hand that feeds me outside a paywall) response:

I completely understand your student’s desire to have a portable degree, since I too am attached to someone in the military and am currently pursing an online master’s (I already hold a tradition master’s and doctorate). Online degrees are losing their stigma. However, one had to consider the reputation of the school providing the degree. If it’s Podunk University, well, you still have Podunk University’s reputation.

The most important thing for her to consider is if the university has any distinction in the course catalog between traditional brick-and-mortar degrees and online degrees. If the course numbers are the same and a lay person couldn’t tell the difference between the online English class and the in-the-classroom course, then go for it. The diploma doesn’t say “X University online,” so don’t make any fuss about having taken courses online versus in the classroom.

She needs to make sure the online degree is accredited from a respected authority. Let’s be honest, University of Phoenix is something you need to steer her away from, because its degrees are not as respected.

If she doesn’t plan on entering academia, most people don’t care if it’s online or in person, they just care you checked the box and got the degree for the position. If she does plan on entering academia, then minimize the fact it was online. “I attended X university 20XX – 20YY and received a master’s in English.” Only mention online if teaching online is a component for the job description. Otherwise, mum’s the word.

Now, I’m in an online program, so I can be blunt about the following: the quality of the online education depends greatly on the student. A lot of programs treat online classes like cash cows, and the support and best education practices are just not there. My brick-and-mortal master’s was far more challenging and difficult.

Plus, a lot of universities do not have the same library resources available for their online students. It’s hard to write a thesis using only JSTOR; your student will need to see what library resources (books, physical books) are made available so she has a shot at writing a solid thesis, if the program requires one.

The lack of library resources is something to consider when working on final semester/quarter projects as well. If she ever wants to consider a doctoral program, she will have to prepare, long distance, to produce strong term papers she could submit as writing samples. If she can’t, well, then it’s not helping her long-term.

As a fellow person tied to the military, the online classes provide an explanation in your resume for a gap in employment. It’s easier to say, “I was a full-time student” than “I’m a military partner.” The online classes, if done well (and this absolutely is dependent upon institution), can provide a sense of community, which is something that moving around a lot can take from you.

Another thing about online classes (again, dependent upon institution) is who is teaching, what is available, and when those classes are available. Again, the cash cow problem – some universities hire a bunch of adjunct/temp faculty to teach graduate courses, but those faculty are not eligible to direct thesis projects. So, your student can take five classes with Professor X, only to learn only Professor A and Z are the only faculty eligible to direct thesis projects, and Professor A requires you to be in two classes before even considering you as a student.

Some classes are on the books and have never been taught. Sometimes there are so many students who want/need classes that there aren’t enough seats and you take extra semesters to graduate. She needs to look into how often classes are offered and how long it really takes students to graduate. She doesn’t want a two-year program dragging on for four years.

Also, online classes can be expensive and poorly designed. If this is the case, then your student needs to push herself to do the best she can under the circumstances. Besides, graduate education is often more about what you learn and how you learn than the classes themselves.

If she and her partner have the financial resources and this is something she wants to do (from an accredited university), then go for it. If the transcript doesn’t distinguish between online/in-person classes, then minimize that she took it online and check the block. If the accreditation committee says it’s an accredited master’s degree, then it’s an accredited master’s degree. Only emphasize online if they ask her to teach online classes.

There are a lot of military partners who pursue online degrees because of the constant military moves. She might meet a fellow online classmate during a coffee social or FRG meeting!

On No Longer Being a College Instructor

A little more than two years ago, I taught my last class. There were a whole host of problems with that adjunct job (the least of which was that I was lied to about how many classes they had the budget for me to teach), but I still enjoyed teaching. In fact, the reason I didn't walk off the first day when I realized how much I had been lied to was that I wasn't going to abandon my students or leave them in the lurch for the administration's misdeeds.

I miss teaching. I was following my passion. I had even used those words, "following my passion" to describe how I felt. Of course, I was delightfully naive and only two months into the academic job search at the time.

Turning off what you were trained to do is hard; I still plan classes, read up on pedagogy, and research the newest and most effective teaching methods. It's all moot though. I won't take part-time work and I won't accept a position without health benefits.

Why?

Because I am worthy of a salary. Because I don't want to have to declare bankruptcy from medical debt. Because I have been on the adjunct hamster wheel and I am not getting back on that ride.

Technically, I could try again when the MLA annual conference comes to Texas next year, but the reality is that my PhD is stale. I have zero articles and no book contracts. If I want to get back in, I've got a lot of work to do so and I'd rather follow my new passion: creative writing.

I do look back at my teaching evaluations. I was always above center of mass. I even had one quarter where I was 4.7 or a 4.8 out of 5. I had great written comments. Students would take as many classes in sequence with me as they could, even if they weren't morning people. I have many thank you notes, which are very precious to me.

It would be a lie to say I don't feel like a failure. I feel like I failed myself, my adviser, my department, my university. I still can't go through the boxes with my graduate school books and papers.

I have teacher's copies of textbooks so I could write more syllabuses for introductory and culture classes, but I never made it that far in the interview process. Now, these books are outdated and I'm no longer a teacher of record so I won't be able to get new copies to write updated syllabuses.

I'm torn because I spent thousands of dollars on books for my academic library, and the reality is that they have been in the same boxes since I moved to Georgia and then Texas.

Unopened boxes. Unrealized dreams.

My therapy has been to put my teaching and job application materials online for free. I have my syllabuses and sample PowerPoint presentations on my academia.edu page. At least my work is helping someone else. Perhaps in a pathetic sort of way, I'm hoping this digital portal helps my job search and attempts to get back into the academy.

The reality is that I did as much as I could have done from a non-Ivy school to try to get a place on the tenure track.

I didn't win the academic lottery. I didn't have the name-brand recognition. Plain and simple.

So here I am, no longer a college instructor.

On not attending MLA's annual convention

This is the third year I have not attended the Modern Language Association's annual conference. Also known as MLA, the annual conference is a mixture of paper presentations, workshops, and above all else, young academics interviewing for the job market.

I first attended the annual conference when it was in Los Angeles, California, in 2011. The following year, it was in Seattle, Washington. 

In 2011, I was in graduate school in California, so attending the conference was not a big deal. 

In 2012, when the conference was in Seattle, I was told my department would reimburse me for travel. When I turned in my receipts, I found out that reimbursement was "only if you had interviews" at MLA. Fortunately, I have family in the area, and I only really took a bit of a hit on the food, since I was going to be in Washington anyways.

This misunderstanding about MLA reimbursement was compounded when I found out from an older graduate student that the reimbursement was a one-time thing. While I'm grateful our department would cover travel and a hotel for a job interview at MLA, it was extremely frustrating that these policies were not made clearer before I went on my merry way to Seattle.

The best part about the conference in Seattle was an early panel on nonstandard academic careers - also known as alternate academic jobs or altac jobs. It was reassuring to hear of other job possibilities outside of the academy. It made working outside a university a less scary prospect.

In 2013, the annual conference was in Boston. Knowing I would only be reimbursed if I had an interview, I had to make the gut-wrenching decision: buy a cheaper plane ticket and hotel by booking early in anticipation of interviews, or wait and pay more (or rather, have my department pay more) to guarantee reimbursement.

On the advice of a colleague who got a tenure-track offer in 2012, I held off buying anything. This turned out to be a great decision because the number of MLA interviews I had was zero.

Zip. Zilch. Nada.

I did, however, pay the conference fee for someone I was following on Twitter. I figured if I couldn't go, at least someone else could.

Speaking of Twitter, I followed the hashtags and almost felt like I was there, albeit from my apartment.

After not getting any academic job offers in the 2013-2014 job market, I put all my energies into applying for altac positions.

I was hired by a university for an altac position, but when the 2014 convention in Chicago rolled around, I was still in my probationary period - during which no sick leave or vacation leave would be granted without supervisor approval. It's not good form to say, "I'm going to a conference where they interview people with my degree for a job," two months after you start. I also only had two vacation days banked, making it almost impossible to go to Chicago, even if I'd wanted to.

I happened to get the job right at the start of what should have been my second season on the job market. I had even asked for updated reference letters. I applied to a few early positions, but once I started, I realized I could either focus on my current, altac job or I could hope for interviews in the 2014-2015 job market.

There's something to be said about having full benefits and retirement. I decided the better part of valor was focusing on improving my current job skills rather than chasing the teaching dream across the country.

I follow several people on Twitter and check in with the MLA hashtag every year. It's almost like being there.

In reality, MLA is just another conference, similar to what you experience if you went to any other. The only miserable part of the equation are the interviews at MLA, and more and more, MLA is trying to push departments to interview over Skype (hello, welcome to the 21st century hiring committees!) rather than forcing applicants to spend their own money to interview at the annual conference.

I didn't go to the Vancouver MLA this year because 1) My passport had expired and I didn't know if I'd get its replacement in time; 2) Flying to Canada is expensive; 3) I'm enrolled in graduate classes again (I'm a special kind of masochist) and I don't feel like spending 10 percent of my disposable income to attend what is essentially a souped-up conference; and 4) I don't want to use my vacation time for the conference.

But, when the conference is in Austin next year, I might go. It would be good to catch up with old friends and attend some panels. 

Will I be on the job market? I'm not sure. I've got a state job with great benefits, and according to HR, it will take three documented cases of gross negligence on my part for me to be let go. In essence, as long as my department isn't reorganized, I have a job I could work until I retire.

It's weird no longer being in the academic rat race. I've rediscovered reading for pleasure, and reading in English for that matter.

I learned a lot about myself while I was working on my dissertation. It was the most difficult thing I have ever done, and yet, I feel like I could work on a second project. I should seriously pursue publishing opportunities for several of my chapters and seminar papers, but those are not a priority for me right now.

For the third year in a row, I have followed the conference on Twitter and don't feel like I missed much at all by staying home. If I had a department paying for it, I'd be there in a heartbeat, but since it's on my own dime, well, there are plenty of places I'd rather vacation than an academic conference.

MLA Conferences by city and year

Los Angeles, California - 2011

Seattle. Washington - 2012

Boston, Massachusetts - 2013

Chicago, Illinois - 2014

Vancouver, Canada - 2015

Austin, Texas - 2016