“Punishment Will Be Continued Until Morale
Improves
And the Individual Stops Objecting to Being
Punished”
The paragraphs that follow continue Ray
Carney’s listing of his academic accomplishments and the punitive and
retaliatory actions taken against him for speaking out about ethical problems
and professional misconduct he has observed at Boston University in the past
year. The text is taken from his recently completed and filed “Faculty Annual
Report.” It is recommended that you begin reading with
“Current Events—Part 1” and “Current Events—Part 2,” posted on earlier blog pages. —Ray Carney
Scheduling shenanigans,
ultimatums, and non-negotiable assignments: I have been told, for many years,
that I will be assigned teaching days and times only after every other member
of the Film Studies faculty (incidentally all junior to me) has had his or her
pick of the days and times they desire to each. In the most recent round of
scheduling for the fall 2013 semester, this scenario played out one more time,
to an almost comic effect. My assigned class meeting time was changed three
times, as one junior faculty member after another was allowed to claim the need
for the class meeting time that had already been assigned to me and already
agreed to by the Film Studies Director. After a week or so of being shuffled
from one spot to another, I was given a choice of several days and times that
were left unclaimed after all of the junior faculty members had made their
selections. When I objected to the unfairness of this "last man on the
totem pole" treatment, I was told that the other faculty members, however
junior in rank or recent their arrival at BU, all had priority of choice over
me. If no one else wants it (because students won't enroll in it), I get it.
Scheduling
punishment: In the reporting period, I was given a schedule where I had to
teach from 9AM to 9PM or later on the same day. (In previous years, the
strung-out schedule was even worse, with the starting point for the first class
of the day being even earlier, at 8AM, with another course on the same day
running till 9PM or later assigned to me. In previous years, I sometimes had to
teach this deliberately grueling schedule on more than one day of the week.) A teaching schedule spanning
more than twelve hours. Worse than the janitors work. Creating scheduling
nightmares like this to punish a faculty member, year after year, despite his
requests for change, is administratively unconscionable. When I told the Film
Studies Director how unfair this schedule seemed, he told me no change in my
schedule would even be considered. (Though, as is his wont in his interactions
with me, in meetings, in person, and by email, his choice of words was much
ruder than the preceding summary indicates.)
Unilaterally imposed schedule
changes without consulting with the faculty member: In February 2013, I was
notified that my teaching schedule was being changed, to move one of my regular
courses into another semester, without prior consultation with me or my approval
and agreement. (This was on top of giving me the course overload I described at
the beginning of this report.) I wrote a memo to my Dean and Chairman objecting
to the fact that this extreme change in my schedule was made unilaterally and
punitively, without even the semblance of asking for my input or consent. As
with so many of my other communications with my Dean and Chairman, I received
no reply or response.
For the ninth or
tenth year running, one or more of my classes was deliberately listed in one of
several different ways that made it impossible for a significant number of
prospective students to enroll. The two most common ways this is done are: 1) a
mythical (and unobtainable) “permission required” notice is posted next to the
class listing discouraging students from registering for it (since they don’t
have any idea how to obtain the unspecified “permission”); or 2) the class is,
against my wishes, closed to non film majors (who are an important proportion
of the potential enrollment pool), who are then shut out by the computer and
have no way of getting past its blockage of their registration efforts. I have
strenuously objected to both of these practices, which for many years have
prevented a large number of students from taking courses with me. As with most
of the other things I have reported, the department Chairman and Film Studies
director either do not reply to my memos and emails, or simply deny that this
is going on, despite abundant evidence to the contrary (including numerous
emails from students describing their inability to enroll in my courses).
On the positive
side: As has been the case in every class I have taught for the past ten or
more years, a number current or former students or professors at other institutions
have audited my courses. (I think I can say with some accuracy that every
course I have taught in the last ten years has had at least one adult auditor.)
I am glad to have these auditors since their scrupulous attendance, level of
emotional engagement with the material, and intelligence significantly raises
the level of the discussion (and imparts a lesson to unintellectual film
students).
A number of
former students also continue to sit in on one or more of my classes (and where
appropriate to speak to the current students about “life after BU”). I also take
out, to coffee or lunch, a significant number of former students visiting
Boston from other locations. They have fond memories of our classes together
and kindly take time to visit and tell me about their lives and work. I treat
of course, but the department does not reimburse me. Ever.
A number of
visiting artists come to my classes when they are in Boston. I often ask them
to speak to my students about “life after BU.” Part of the reason I personally host
them is that the faculty organizer of the department “Cinémathèque,” the
official speakers series run by the department, told me that he categorically refused
to invite anyone I nominated. He displayed a remarkable candor in replying to
my nominations for speakers. He told me that anyone I nominated would never be
hosted by the department. He refused and actually told me it was a conscious and admitted act of
vindictiveness against me. Such is the collegiality of my department. At least, in this case, they are honest about their motives and actions. (Unlike the lies that they have told about many of the other retaliatory actions taken against me.)
The retaliation
actually goes further than the above practice. Filmmaker friends have told me
how the faculty member who hosts the department “Cinémathèque” has withdrawn an
invitation for them to speak at BU or has discontinued negotiations with them
about coming to speak, when they have—all too innocently—mentioned that they
knew me or admired my work. That was that. It was the end of their invitation; or the end of
their negotiation on when they were to visit campus and speak. The faculty member in charge of the “Cinémathèque” actually told
them explicitly that he refused to invite them in that case, and had only been
talking to them not realizing that they knew me or admired my ideas! The almost
comical goal is to keep “friends or fans of Carney from being invited.” (I’d
laugh out loud at the silliness and pettiness, if the intentions behind the practice weren’t so mean-spirited,
and if it wasn’t so unfair to the filmmakers who have had their invitations
withdrawn or not offered to them in the first place.) Yes, it really gets this petty, personal,
and nasty in my department. Welcome to the BU speakers series.
You can add the
preceding pieces of collegial nastiness to the long list of other acts of collegial
nastiness intended to ostracize and punish me. As another glowing illustration
of department collegiality, my program Director is known to have told graduate
students who expressed admiration for my teaching or ideas that they would not
be receiving a letter of recommendation from him. Again, the attitude would be
worth laughing at if it didn’t impact the lives of so many students so
negatively. Welcome to the BU I function in, the BU my Chairman and Dean let go
on this way. The BU of spite and malice.
Since I described
them in detail in several years of previous reports, I shall not again describe
an extensive series of secret and surreptitious meetings that the Director of
Film Studies held with students to convince them not to take courses with me. I
provided particulars describing these “lynch mob” meetings in reports I filed
with the university Ombuds and a number of senior administrators, including two
different Provosts. [I describe some of these
meetings on three blog pages I posted in April 2013: "Lynch Mobs—Secret and Surreptitious Meetings
to Foment Students Against a Teacher," "Playing with Souls/Death Threats—Cynical
Administrative Power-games," and "Letter to the University
Ombuds—Events That Almost Defy Belief." I’d refer the interested reader there to
learn more about the actions of my colleagues to undermine my relations with my
students.]
The Ombuds
expressed sympathy with my situation and told me that she had heard accounts from
other faculty members who had corroborated what I had reported and had gone on
to tell her other horror stories about similar treatment they themselves had
experienced in the College of Communication. However (to my astonishment and
dismay), neither she nor any of the other BU administrators (including two
university Provosts) with whom I filed reports about these meetings has, right
up to the present moment, done anything to change the situation, correct
the problem, or offer redress for the financial and bureaucratic punishments I received and continue to receive. Nothing of any substance has been done by anyone,
including the Ombuds: no investigation; no report of findings; no action to remedy
the situation; no redress for my lost pay; and no removal or disciplining of the individuals clearly and provably guilty of these well-documented
forms of professional misbehavior. There has not even been a reply denying anything (since that would be impossible given the documentary evidence). The only reply has been to ignore the reports.
The non-response,
the non-action, the non-correction would be simply unbelievable at any other
academic institution. But this is the BU way—the way Boston University has been
for thirty or forty years at this point (with many of the offending administrators still in their same positions, doing the same things they did in the past). The higher-ups in the BU
administration make it their policy to turn a blind eye to ethical violations
and professional misconduct if it involves fellow administrators. The only cases they investigate
and punish are against students and faculty members. The legal office is ready to do that at a moment's notice. What's wrong with this picture?
The text of Ray Carney’s most recent “Faculty Annual Report” (submitted in the spring of 2014) continues on the next blog page. See “Current Events—Part 4."
