(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party)

This song, like most Beastie Boys songs, makes me laugh. It also takes me back to my undergrad days of broadcasting class, where one of my classmates made a PSA called "You Gotta Fight for Your Right to Graduate". It was true at my college, as I'm sure it is at many others. I heard horror stories from other students about nearly not graduating, and I found myself -- in my last semester -- one credit hour shy of being able to graduate. Fortunately, I had a wonderful advisor; he let me work essentially as a TA to get that one credit hour. So I did fight for my right to graduate, and I did, in fact, graduate. I love the Beastie Boys at least in part because I always hear them as being ironic. In case you aren't aware, they are all classically-trained musicians who really got into hip-hop in the early years, and created their own sound influenced by many genres. My favorite music is generally the type that defies genre or definition. Whenever I hear someone ask what kind of music a certain band plays, I always think of that great line from The Blues Brothers movie: "We have both kinds -- country and western!"

Anyway, the reason I thought about this song has nothing to do with partying. That's one thing I probably wouldn't fight too hard for, but I might have done so many years ago. I'm not sure exactly what I'm fighting for here, but it has to do with fairness in the workplace. I don't mean the bigger fairness issues; maybe fairness isn't the right word. I'm not talking about equal pay although certainly that's a good battle to fight. I feel like my college -- or one campus, at least -- does all it can to make things difficult. I've come in and taken last-minute classes that otherwise would have been canceled. I think I mentioned last week that the assistant dean was supposed to observe my class and never showed up or replied to my (very polite) email asking if she would be coming in this week instead. This morning I received an email for a mandatory meeting involving campus safety training. The meeting is this Saturday, from 9:00-noon. Yes, you read that right. I just got word this morning of a required meeting on a Saturday morning, with three days notice! Am I pissed? Hell, yes. Am I going? Fuck, no. (Apologies to my more tender readers!) Asking us to show up on a Saturday morning, after classes have ended, is just rude. It would have been rude with a week's notice, but it's ridiculous with three days notice. So when I read the email I cliked "Decline" and wrote a less polite note: "I apologize, but I will not be able to attend. Please let me know when the training is being offered again." I think I'm being perfectly reasonable. Adjunct get shit on enough, and I pick my battles wisely. This one is worth fighting.