Chronicle of Higher Education op-ed:  The Deflating Reality of Life on the Tenure Track, by Sarah Emanuel (Assistant Professor, Loyola Marymount University):

Outside are the dogs. Revelation 22:15

On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, at around 7:30 a.m., I leave my two-bedroom apartment in Venice, Calif., wearing a sweatsuit, a beanie, and Blundstones. Upon entering my car, I loop the most important item of the morning around my waist: a belt to which I will attach five to six dogs on leashes. The first dog to join is usually Gus, my 8-year-old labradoodle, who loves being in the outdoors. Soon, though, Gus and I are driving around the west side of Los Angeles to pick up a few more four-legged friends — usually Dennis, Milo, Harry, Helen, and Grover.* We hike from about 9 to 10 a.m., and then I drive the pups home. By noon, I am in a tweed jacket, working away at my second job, as a professor of New Testament studies.

I am a full-time assistant professor and part-time dog carer. I take dogs out in the mornings and afternoons, and even host them overnight when needed. I teach, attend meetings, and conduct research at all hours in between. The reason for this is twofold: (1) I love dogs; they help me stay present and grounded. But more so: (2) I cannot afford to live near my campus, which lies just east of the Pacific, without the extra income. …

Don’t get me wrong; the financial package from Loyola wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t great — not, at least, when considering the cost of living in Los Angeles. Everything is expensive: Car registration, car insurance, even groceries outrank the national average. Housing, especially, is a nightmare. A quick look at available spaces on Zillow will give you an idea of the options, which are either grim or prohibitively expensive. The median home price in Los Angeles County is roughly $800,000. On the west side, that might get you a small condo. But probably not.

According to Chronicle data, the average assistant professor at Loyola Marymount makes around $82,000 per year, but that varies by field; theology is among the lowest-compensated disciplines in academe. My yearly salary is $78,000. California state taxes are among the highest in the nation. While I knew what my salary would be, I wasn’t prepared for the amount taken out each month, so much so that I have emailed HR twice to make sure I was taking home the right amount. …

The key for me, of course, is not to be fired; writing this essay without tenure, some might say, is already a taking a risk.

But for me, teaching the New Testament is also a risk. I’m Jewish. And lesbian. That’s a combination I have yet to find elsewhere in my field. …

I suppose I hold a similar place — always just slightly on the outside — at LMU. In addition to being a lesbian Jew who teaches Christ-centered sources at a Jesuit university, I walk a path with the dogs that happens to be just outside the main campus entrance: Bluffs Creek Trail.

At first, I thought this was advantageous — cute, even. I’d show up in the morning with my pups and in the afternoon with my books. Maybe I’d even turn into that cool professor with all the dogs — the one that students can chat with about biblical literature in an unconventional outdoor dog-friendly office hour. That didn’t happen. Instead, the security guards at the university’s entrance continually ask to see my ID. …

I walk dogs. And the truth of the matter is, I make more money walking them than I do being a professor, at least at the hourly rate. On average, I put in 10 hours a week walking, hiking, and running with dogs. I also house overnight, on average, one dog per day. This work nets me roughly $2,500 a month. Whenever I’m exhausted — or whenever I look up at my college campus from the trail and wish I were there reading or writing or teaching a class — I tell myself that I am affording my life here by doing this walk. …

In a roundabout way, this all brings me back to what I teach. Readers of the New Testament so quickly assume that Revelation’s promised land — named the “New Jerusalem” in the text — must be wonderful. But if you read Chapter 22 closely, you’ll notice that dogs are left out. This can be a hard realization for those who love their canine companions. The tenure track, of course, is not a New Jerusalem. It is not a promised land. But at least I know I’m OK spending the time outside — outside with the dogs.