Last fall I taught four freshman-composition courses at two colleges: one state, one private. At these schools, a full-time professor usually teaches five courses in a whole year. From August to December, I made $7,000 teaching a load almost equal to a full-time professor’s, for which he or she would usually earn a minimum of $45,000. If I divided my pay by the number of hours I worked, it would be well below the minimum wage. And I was not alone, not by far.

Retiring professors are rarely replaced by full-time professors anymore. Why should administrators worry about tenure and sabbaticals when they can hire part-time or temporary adjuncts for a fraction of the cost? Unfortunately, these savings don’t usually benefit the student.

In each of my four courses, students wrote five essays, plus a research paper, during the semester, and they were required to rewrite at least two of them. If I wasn’t prepping for a class or driving to a class or teaching a class or meeting with students, I was reading papers, rereading papers and marking papers. I wrote comments, and I deliberated for some time before assigning grades. I needed to reassure myself that the grade was deserved, that I wasn’t misgrading because I was burnt out.

Then there was the question of plagiarism. I allowed students to write their research essays on any subject of their choice. I wanted students to be enthusiastic, but giving them so much freedom meant I lost control over the sources. When I read paragraph after paragraph without errors I wanted to believe that students had improved so much between writing their last essay and their research paper but, and I say it with great sadness, many were not able to resist temptation. Does anybody know how many search engines there are? Do you have any idea how much work it is to try to find the original source?

My students were also required to keep journals, which I collected in the middle and at the end of the semester. It surprised and distressed me to read how unhappy most first-year students were. They were lonely. They missed their hometowns, their parents (to their surprise), their friends, their girlfriends or boyfriends. Often I worried about what I read and felt guilty that I didn’t have enough time to talk with each student about what they wrote. Because of time constraints our meetings were reserved for talking about their essays. Personal problems were a luxury I could hardly afford. I did as much as I could, but some of those students needed more. Much more.

Adjuncts are so busy juggling jobs that they’re underavailable to students who, at private institutions, can pay as much as $30,000 for tuition, room and board. Students need teachers who are accessible, teachers who have permanent offices and time to spend in them. I gave my students my e-mail address and I got back to them as soon as I could, but I never felt that was enough. I’ve heard stories of an expensive New York City university where students meet their advisers in the stairwells because the advisers don’t have offices. I don’t want to put adjuncts out of work, but if I were a student looking for a college, I’d ask about full-time-to-adjunct-faculty ratios. Full-time professors aren’t necessarily better teachers than adjuncts, but they have more time–they’re there to stay.

While earning my M.F.A., I worked at a small liberal-arts college as an assistant to the associate dean who hired the adjuncts, so I saw them from the other side. Adjuncts try to do their job well because, in my experience, most of them are overachievers who care a great deal about their students and what they teach. They also know they’re being taken advantage of, and that if they speak up too loudly, they’re easy to replace.

I say “they” because I’m not an adjunct anymore. I’ve gone back to school. I am a student, yet again. This time, I’m getting certified to teach grades seven to 12, to get one job at one school with benefits and vacation and my own desk. Then I can get on with teaching, which is what I wanted to do in the first place. It won’t be worry-free, but there’ll be no more sweating in the middle of the night.