Or, what I want to say in the lunchroom when my colleague complains that s/he wasn't trained to teach composition and hates composition and teaching composition is beneath him/her and the students never learn anything and blah blah blah.
Remember when you applied for this job, how we listed on the JIL that the job was about 50% composition? And when you came for the interview and we told you that everyone in the department teaches composition for about half our load?
Your letter of application talked about how well-prepared you were to teach composition, how much you took time to think of interesting and challenging assignments, how innovative you were in your approaches. Remember that? I do.
So, what, you forgot? Seriously?
Yes, I know composition:literature or creative writing =/= basic math:advanced math. I know it's a totally different field.
But this is the job that we advertised, and you applied and accepted the offer. And there are 100+ candidates who'd apply for your job in an instant if you decided to leave.
And your being far too amazing and wonderful to be asked to do such demeaning work? You should have taken the R1 offers you had, the ones in better geographic locations with better pay and benefits.
What's that? You deserved an R1 job, but you didn't get even an interview nibble? Remind me again how you deserved an R1 job because you went to Old Ivy and and you're white and male but the world is mean to white men.
So here we are together. It must be dreadful for you to have to share the lunch room with the non-Ivy likes of me.
I wonder why your students don't learn anything? Want to talk about that?
Yes, teaching composition is hard work. It's the hardest work I do, consistently, every semester, the hardest work. It's harder than writing someone's tenure letter, by far.
But in the pantheon of difficult jobs, I bet it's not in the top 100.
And since I knew from grad school that I'd be likely teaching composition for the rest of my career, I took some classes to prepare, and I read some research to keep up, and I struggle with it. I talk to our comp person to get ideas; I get ideas from other instructors. I even share some ideas. And it's still a struggle.
If you don't want to do HALF your job and do it well, then leave. Just leave. Either go to that R1 that's begging for the privilege of hiring you, or leave academics and do something else.
If I were Robert Browning, this would have been in blank verse. Alas, I'm not.
Imagine, though, the kick-ass assignments Browning would have come up with: "Write an argumentative essay asserting the rectitude of killing your wife."