At my core, I am a professor. (A psychology professor in fact.) It is one of the most important aspects of my identity, if not the most important. I always knew I wanted to study psychology and there was never any doubt that I would get a PhD. As a graduate student, I was, naturally, aware that it would be challenging to find a full-time job given there were definitely more new PhD graduates than tenure-track positions needing to be filled. I also realized as I finished my degree that while I wanted to be a professor, I did not want to spend many (grueling) years pursuing tenure when I also wanted to have a family. So I decided to teach part-time knowing it would forever close the door to tenure-track teaching and job security. I chose this career path with my eyes open and I deeply love being a professor. But that doesn’t mean I love my working conditions or that I feel I am compensated fairly for my expertise and work. Just because I freely chose to work as a part-time professor, it doesn’t mean that I have to accept poor working conditions or unfair pay. And just because I continue to choose to apply for and teach courses on a contract-by-contract basis, it doesn’t mean that I don’t experience stress or negative impacts as a result of this.

Perhaps your story is similar to mine, and you work part-time so that you can also do “something else”. Maybe your “something else” is a full-time job in the industry you trained for or another part-time job in a different fulfilling occupation. Maybe it’s the ability to provide care for family members or your own mental and/or physical health needs. Perhaps your story is quite different. Maybe you are one of the many part-time professors who pursued a PhD in order to get a tenure track position, only to find it impossible to secure one. Maybe you would happily take a full-time teaching position if it were offered to you. Maybe you are a graduate student unsure of what you want to do after you graduate. However you have found yourself in this profession – and now in this strike – you belong, along with your complex identities and possibly complicated feelings about your work and being on strike.

Being a part-time professor in general can be a challenging identity to navigate both internally and with other people. On the one hand, we are intellectual elites; only around 1% of the Canadian population has a PhD and 8% have a master’s degree. We also have considerable autonomy in much of our work, as we typically (though not always) have almost complete control over course design and class instruction. However, with the exception of those part-time professors who have lucrative industry jobs, for the most part we are not financial elites. In addition, while we have a lot of autonomy once have secured a contract, we have almost no autonomy when it comes to what courses will be offered that we are eligible to teach, whether those courses are offered at times that we can actually teach them, when the job offers are actually posted so that we can apply for courses, whether we are offered any of the courses we apply for, and when we are given a contract to sign once we have accepted an offer.

This clash of identities – intellectual but not financial elite, no autonomy in our careers before a contract is signed but almost complete control once we have a signed contract – can make this job confusing and stressful at the best of times. It can also confuse the public, who may not appreciate just how wide a gulf there is when the adjective in front of “professor” is “part-time” and not “full-time” or who may, frankly, not even see any difference because they have a stereotype associated with “professor” that doesn’t account for different “types”.

But this clash can be even more challenging to navigate as a professor who is also on strike, given that our stereotype of an “elite” rarely also includes “striking union member on the picket lines”. In fact, being on strike really highlights just how nuanced the term “elite” really is. I certainly don’t feel like an “elite” when I’m wearing a placard in the rain on the picket line waving at passing cars but I know most of the students who walk by on their way to other classes certainly see me as more “elite” than they are! And to those outside of academia, I may be perceived as being greedy asking for more money, when “clearly” I have a “cushy, white-collar elite” job that 90% of working age adults wouldn’t even be qualified for.

So to those who have similar conflicting identities or feelings about what it means to be a professor who is also on strike, I say this: You are not alone. It’s okay to feel conflicted – or not – and to have concerns about how you are perceived by the public – or not. (Some of us are less able to ignore what other people might or actually do think of us!) But just because you or I have conflicting feelings about what we do for work or what it means to be on strike, especially because we chose this “elite” career path ourselves, we still deserve to ask for fair pay for our expertise and work. Research shows that financially insecure part-time faculty who want permanent work are “particularly at risk for negative health outcomes,” including higher levels of depression, anxiety, and stress (Reevy & Deason, 2014). The same research also found that, counterintuitively, the more we feel attached to and are committed to the university, the more we are likely to experience those same negative health outcomes. I’ve been at SMU for over 15 years and I have colleagues who have been there for 20 or even 30 years; the deep connections we have to the university unfortunately mean we suffer even more as a result of our precarity. (If we weren’t as attached to the university, it wouldn’t “hurt” as much to be treated or paid unfairly!) Even when it sometimes feels complicated for “intellectual elite” and “striking union member” to coexist in my current identity, I know I’m making the right decision every time I show up on the picket line and advocate for myself and for all of you.

I usually tell people that there is no better place to be in the world, during the fall season, than Nova Scotia.  As a part time instructor at SMU for close to 2 decades, I find myself this fall preoccupied and just not noticing the vibrant colors of the season. The strike continues, and to pass the time on the picket line, I pace, and think about the disrupted routines, the precarity of employment, and the strength of the people who surround me.  I am humbled as I support their efforts, which are also my efforts for equity in an increasingly polarized society.  While I walk, I hope our signs of resistance are the catalyst to a much-needed conversation about the future of our institution and the value of the work we do.

From the outset, I want to acknowledge that I personally, like many of my colleagues, don’t want to be on strike. We are deeply committed to our students and their education is at the heart of everything we do. But rising workloads with wages that have failed to keep pace with inflation have made it increasingly difficult to provide the quality of education we know our students deserve.

It’s also become impossible to ignore the reality facing many of us, as precarious workers, who diligently fill in the gaps, often at a moment’s notice to ensure the viability of the university, and its courses.  But these efforts are all too often rewarded with little recognition or adequate compensation. Precarious in that at the end of each semester, when we know the contracts are to be posted, we anxiously wait for that course, the one we know we can teach, and may have seniority in, the one that, if it doesn’t come through, sees us staring down the economically bleak months of another underemployed semester.  This anxiety is tempered in the stress of rising inflation, undervalued contributions, and the weight of that smiling façade that we erect as the students enter the class.   A stress that with each passing semester leaves fissures of frustration that make this not just an academic employment issue, but an issue of human dignity and mental and social well-being.

The strike isn’t just about financial compensation, although that is undeniably a part of the conversation. It’s about ensuring that we as members of the SMU community have the resources human, financial, and physical to continue offering a top-tier education so that we can continue to contribute to vibrancy of the institutions that are, personally, the cornerstones of our academic identities, and, collectively, the benchmarks of creativity, critical discourse, and innovation.  To this end, significant, institutional change is what this strike is ultimately about.

I have to say that in some ways it’s been a pleasure to picket as I am reminded that in unity there is strength. And let’s not forget the incredible work of our organizers.  From my perspective there has been every effort to address any perceived inequity, every opportunity for inclusion is exercised, and I have yet to walk past Erica without getting a warm and disarming smile.

I am also grateful to our students for their ongoing patience and understanding during this time, and I hope, as they do, that we can get a fair deal, and back into the classroom without any further delay.

In Solidarity….

By Rajni Ratti

The ongoing part-time faculty strike at Saint Mary’s University is a moment
of deep reflection for all of us in academia. Universities are not merely
institutions of instruction; they are the nurseries of creativity, innovation, and
leadership; places where future entrepreneurs, policymakers, doctors, and
scientists take root. When such spaces become overshadowed by disputes
over fair wages, the true mission of education suffers.

Faculty are the heart of any university. They ignite curiosity, cultivate critical
thinking, and inspire students to challenge convention. Yet, when educators
must fight for wages that allow them to live with dignity, it sends a troubling
message – not only to faculty but to students as well. If those who dedicate
their lives to teaching and mentorship are undervalued, what lesson
are we imparting to the next generation? That passion and integrity are
negotiable? That knowledge can thrive under constant financial strain?
A university’s strength is not in its infrastructure but in its people – its
teachers and students. When faculty are supported, respected, and fairly
compensated, they can focus fully on what truly matters: awakening
creativity, encouraging independent thought, and shaping confident,
compassionate graduates.
Resolving this situation is not just about ending a strike — it’s about
reaffirming our shared belief that education should be built on respect,
not compromise.

This is how “Our Working Conditions Are Their Learning Conditions”

PT faculty spend less time with students.
Why? We work multiple jobs, are not on campus that often, and often do not have dedicated private office space.

What’s the impact? We are less able to offer face-to-face meetings with students, have less time and flexibility for meeting with students due to other jobs, and are less able to foster strong connections with students and to provide mentorship to students.

How to change this? With higher wages and (some) job security we wouldn’t need to work other jobs (as much) and would have more time for students. With contracts issued earlier in the year we would be more able to prepare in advance of the semester leaving more time during the semester to meet with students instead of doing last-minute course preparation.

PT faculty have less time for course development and class preparation.
Why? We work multiple jobs and have to make decisions about how best to allocate our time across all those jobs, which means less time for any individual course development and/or class preparation. Low wages disincentivize spending too much “extra” time on course development or preparing for class as more work simply brings down our hourly wage (often below minimum wage) because we are only paid per course, not for any set number of hours for that course.

What’s the impact? PT professors are disincentivized from putting in a lot of time and effort into course development and class preparation to make the courses students are taking more academically rigorous, up-to-date, engaging and/or accessible/inclusive.

How to change this? With higher wages we would be able to give more time to individual courses because it would no longer be at such a financial loss to invest more time. Higher wages would also reduce our reliance on other sources of income, which would free up more time overall. With greater job security (like knowing you will teach a course more than once), we can take more risks to innovate in or update an old course or design a new course. With contracts issued earlier in the year we would be able to start course development and class preparation much sooner and have more time to thoughtfully consider how best to run a new course or update an old one.

PT faculty have a high turnover rate.
Why? Most PT faculty hold a graduate degree and possess significant expertise. However, low wages, no job security, and no benefits make this financially unsustainable as a long-term career for most people. In addition, most PT faculty have other jobs which means their schedules change a lot and they may not be able to teach the same courses each year.

What’s the impact? Students end up taking courses from new faculty who are not integrated into the department and are unaware of departmental culture or instructional practices. This high turnover rate means courses taught by PT faculty may not be (fully or at all) aligned with departmental goals or culture, and may vary significantly year-to-year or even semester-to-semester. In addition, new PT faculty lack institutional knowledge and may not be able to effectively refer students to important university support resources.

How to change this? Any improvement to job security and higher wages would make teaching as a PT faculty member much more attractive and decrease turnover rate. In order to both attract and maintain talent such as industry experts, professionals with graduate degrees, and PT faculty with PhDs, teaching a course at a university needs to be financially worth it and a positive experience.

Support PT Faculty. Support Student Learning.

Dear Isabelle and Members of MSVU Senior Leadership and Board of Governors,

As a Mount Part-Time Academic and member of the Halifax community, I am writing in response to the Campus-Wide Bulletin circulated earlier today. I found this message both a disappointing breach of good faith bargaining and a disingenuous representation of the offers currently on the table.

I ask that you please take a moment to hear me out. As many of you know, the Mount’s part-time faculty are among the lowest paid in the country. We design and teach over half of the university’s courses, support and mentor your students, and contribute meaningfully to the intellectual and cultural life of this institution. Yet we do so with little to no job security and for a per-course stipend that ranks near the bottom nationally.

The Board’s decision to present its offer in percentages obscures a stark and persistent pay disparity between Mount contract faculty and our peers across the country. Our current per-course stipend is 29.59% below the 2024 national median Step One stipend of $8,058. The raise you have proposed for 2025 would still leave us 11.14% below that national average. Meanwhile, the Local’s request for a flat-rate stipend of $8,435—which you have characterized as unreasonable—remains 11% below the national average flat-rate stipend ($9,371 across 18 Canadian institutions). These figures show that our bargaining team is asking for a modest and long-overdue correction after years of undervalued teaching labour. This correction is all the more urgent as Halifax’s cost of living continues to rise, now ranking among the highest in the country.

As a proud member of this community, I believe deeply in the Mount’s publicly stated values and its social justice mission. Yet it is difficult to reconcile that mission with an employer that continues to extract as much labour as possible for as little pay as possible from its most precarious academic employees. Like most of my colleagues, I hold a PhD, have completed postdoctoral research, published in my field, and have a strong record of research, teaching and mentorship. Unlike my full-time colleagues, however, I lack access to a regular office, job security, health benefits, and pension contributions. My income is not sufficient to meet the cost of living without ongoing financial strain and debt.

I love teaching Mount students—they are among the hardest-working, most engaged, and most conscientious students I’ve encountered in my career. Like so many of my part-time colleagues, I’m deeply devoted to undergraduate teaching and learning. But I also know that we cannot give our students the time and attention they deserve when we’re stretched so thin—many of us, myself included, are commuting between multiple teaching jobs just to piece together a living. We do this work without the security of an institutional home, reapplying for our own positions term after term. We do it because we care deeply about post-secondary teaching and about our students’ learning. But I, like many of my colleagues, am increasingly exhausted and disheartened by the sustained exploitation and institutional disrespect that come with being treated as second-class academics.

You describe the Board’s offer as “reasonable,” yet it includes no pay increase for 2024 and continues to signal that the Mount undervalues the most vulnerable members of its academic community. I stand firmly and proudly with our bargaining committee in their refusal to recommend any agreement that fails to demonstrate genuine respect for the essential contributions of part-time academics; all of whom are highly trained professional educators who are central to the Mount’s teaching mission and to the success of its students.

We are indispensable to the functioning of this institution, and we expect a fair deal that reflects that fact.

Sincerely,
Larissa Atkison, PhD
Part-Time Academic
Mount Saint Vincent University

I have never picketed before and was not sure what to expect when I showed up last Monday for the first of three full days of picketing. I’m an introverted person and had planned to mostly keep to myself, but I quickly found that it was much more enjoyable than I had expected. Yes, I did still keep my earbuds in so that I could take a break from talking and listen to an audiobook every now and then. And yes, I did spend more time by myself than others did so that I wouldn’t get too overwhelmed. But it was genuinely a positive experience, despite the biting winds, the signs blowing away, and the cars that didn’t seem to notice when we tried to cross the street!

On Monday, I donned a pink CUPE hat, pulled a pink CUPE t-shirt over my hoodie, wrapped a warm pink fleece scarf around my neck, and picked up a pink CUPE flag and started walking back and forth along the street. I chatted with colleagues in my department that I hadn’t seen for years, as after Covid, most of the part-time profs started to only come to campus just for the hours they were teaching. I rediscovered the camaraderie I didn’t know I had missed in talking to them. However, I hadn’t appreciated just how physically draining it would be to walk for five hours straight. So I took a colleague’s advice and brought my own chair on Tuesday. I’ll admit, I felt a little awkward bringing a camping chair on the bus Tuesday morning, but it was definitely worth it.

I started Tuesday by making my own sign. I’m no artist – I successfully avoided doing most crafts when my children were little by encouraging them to craft with relatives! – but I channeled my inner artist nonetheless. My sign said “Part-time profs teach (at least) 1/5 of SMU classes” to highlight the fact that part-time faculty are an integral part of SMU and most students are likely affected by this strike given how many courses part-time faculty teach. I felt a little self-conscious sitting down for much of the day, but I knew I didn’t want to have the same hip and leg pain as the previous day so I held my sign down to avoid it blowing into my face (a futile endeavour to be honest!) and smiled and waved at passing cars and students. We sang and danced to music to keep our spirits high – and ourselves warm – and appreciated the students who took pink scarves and small flags and pins to wear in support.

By Wednesday, I was getting into the groove of picketing and felt a lot more comfortable talking to other profs from different departments and swapping stories. So many of us had similar experiences of loving what we do, but not loving the working conditions or the pay. It was encouraging when people from other local unions stopped by to show solidarity, and it felt like a collective hug to know others were rooting for us. As introverted as I am, it was a lovely experience, and it felt really good to be doing something so important with so many other passionate and thoughtful people. It’s not always easy to be on the picket line, but the people on the picket line with me those three days made me feel welcome and valued. And ultimately, that’s what we all want to feel. 

I’ve taught the same course every single year at SMU for over a decade but every single year I have to apply for it again and hope I’ll be able to teach it again. I just wish I could have some job security and could actually plan ahead!

While I have a lot of control over how I run the courses I teach, I have no control at all over whether I’ll be able to teach in any given semester or what courses I’ll be able to teach. That uncertainty is really hard to deal with as I’m the primary source of income for my family.

Although I’m a “part-time professor”, this is my full-time job! I have cobbled together a full-time job in terms of hours by teaching multiple courses each semester across SMU, MSVU and Dal but there are no “full-time” benefits that go with it.

If I wasn’t so passionate about teaching my students, I would definitely find a different job – one with job security, benefits like health insurance, and higher pay!

Being a professor is a source of passion and joy for me. But it’s also a source of stress as I work contract-to-contract and can never plan ahead more than a few months as I don’t know what I’ll be teaching or where!

I’m on strike because students deserve to be taught by professors who are being paid fairly for their work.

Being paid low wages to teach a university course disincentivizes part-time professors to put in a lot of work and really make the class amazing! I still DO put in lots of work, but it ultimately means my “hourly pay” is way below minimum wage. If I put in 1000 extra hours of work or 0 extra hours of work, I still get paid the same. (Poorly!) It would be lovely to just focus on how to have the best course possible, without always worrying about how little I’m being paid to do the work.