What does it mean to be an older student, neurodiverse, and a teaching assistant? Is there less shame today in being a “lifelong” student than in previous times? Are there more of us? By us, I suppose I mean anyone who is no longer in their early twenties, “returning” to school. Sure, we live in a time when it is common to flit through many professions, or to be shoved out of one’s trajectory by social upheavals. If we are returning to school, though, it’s hard to shake the feeling that our timing is off, or that we are somehow even less practical than the twenty year olds pursuing degrees that, after all, may not lead to careers.
Is the whole institution of the teaching assistantship set up for younger folks? How can an older student fit the bill–keen, diligent, eager, grateful–an exemplary servant of the university system and happy intermediary between faculty and the student on the ground?
Part of what is fraught in this situation is the sometimes subordinate relationship to a professor, some of whom may have become rather methodical about how they teach. Different professors establish different relationships with their teaching assistant team, but I wonder if a certain kind of corporate-think is not built into the very word “team.” Sometimes things go swimmingly, but inevitably one will encounter the professor who feels the need to monitor everything that might affect their course, or on the other hand the distant professor who is hard to reach via email. I have had professors (in other departments) surprise TAs with an arbitrary demand to submit a stack of marked work to be scrutinized for irregularities. Most of the many courses I TA’d went well, but I had one professor in a different department write a scathing report of my teaching (something very rarely done, particularly because teaching evaluations are supposed to improve one’s future prospects). These may seem like small moments of turbulence in the otherwise friendly skies of the TA, but it is important to note just how damaging these incidents can be. They made me feel like a fool in a compromising situation, and undermined my self-esteem. In fact, these microaggressions damaged my mental health and wellbeing, in turn damaging my prospects of success (the very thing professors should be trying to promote).
I have personally TA’d in four departments at UBC as a significantly older student. One of my problems has been that, as someone on the spectrum, I look and sound younger than my biological age. It can be uncomfortable when a professor your own age or younger exerts (or micro-exerts) power over you. The bar we have to meet can feel like it has less to do with who we are than with marking according to rubrics, and conflict of any kind with a professor is going to stressful. One can feel like they must struggle to be charming, pleasant, and grateful in response to these issues because the consequences of being otherwise simply are not worth it.
All of this is compounded for an older TA who is on the spectrum. Neurodiverse people have a heightened sense of social justice, and also tend to be plain spoken, if not blunt. It may also be hard to recognize our merits, because we do not fit the norms of social competence.
This is why caring for oneself is so particularly important as a TA. Part of caring for oneself as a TA is knowing that your needs or approaches may differ from those of others. For instance, keeping track of hours might be freeing for some, but for me it is another kind of tyranny. One consequence of such tight timekeeping is that one may press oneself to work harder in the allotted time, resulting in stress and headaches. I choose not to have that kind of relationship to work and to time. Another way of caring for oneself in these situations, when there is no actual abuse, is to share one’s feelings with someone else. It is important to acknowledge suffering as suffering.
Sometimes (maybe often), talking to the professor will help. Ultimately, what helps me is a sense of absurdity and a feeling of unconditional gratitude. Good and bad are dualistic ideas. So are old and young. Life is ephemeral. Goals are mirages. Unconditional gratitude is just that–appreciation of what is, without any foundation or basis.