I Wanted Time
Not Tenure
At some point i came to the knowing, an African American knowing, that tenure was neither the goal nor the destination. How many obituaries of premature Black deaths, at the hands of the academy, had I read? How many lynching spots and former plantations had i poured libations on, at the most prestigious and unremarkable college campuses alike? I had come to know that what i desired was a way to have a permanent impact on those who read and wept, those who bled and belabored, those who were kind and cunning, those who unflinching and unbowed, those who dared to love never mind the languishing noose adorning their necks? I didn’t want tenure, I wanted time. Time to think. Time to move. Time to imagine. Time to inspire. Time to undo, unbecome, unravel all that the ivory and brick towers had wrought for me, my ancestors, the chil’ren who come next and yes, even the yt folk grown fat and sick on the seductive salve of sordid structured prevarication of inherited superiority. I wanted home. I was operating on a prayer, beyond misplaced works, and situated on works made possible by grandmas’ hands’.
-Dr. T. Anansi Wilson, JD/PhD
I think that everyone of us now wants a soft life of contemplation. We will write and teach but there has to be payment and.we have to control our time. I hope you get what you need.