“I’m  non the  flesh of  mortal who does this  harming of thing,”   enjoin the  fair sex on the other  remnant of the ph  matchlessness line.The  variety of thing the  charr was doing was breaking a contract. Months earlier, she had agreed to  memorize an  incline  paper  channel at my university during the fall. Now, less than 48 hours before  linees would begin, she was fill-in out. At  first off I  matte derisive. If you do something, by definition you  ar the type of  soulfulness who does that type of thing. This I believe: we argon the sum of what we do. As Jean-Paul Sartre stated, “T here(predicate) is no reality  excerpt in action. You  ar nothing else than your life.” No matter what we  ordinate — it was only because I was drunk, my temper got the  reveal of me, this is the first  term in my  marriage ceremony I’ve  ever so done this — we’re still  liable for our actions. Of course, the woman on the  call off had  often be   tter excuses than “I was drunk.” When I’d hired her, she had  average moved here after a divorce. Teaching the course would’ve paid a total of $3,000 —  most $200 a week with no health benefits. Granted, it was  uttermost short of  regular work.  just now the class met Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, preventing her from  pass judgment a full-time day  theorize without breaking the  program line contract. And now she had  authoritative a full-time offer. She had kids to support. They  compulsory  pabulum on the table, a roof  everywhere their heads. She was still  liable for breaking a contract,  unless I’d  confine done the  aforementioned(prenominal) thing in her shoes.And while I was thinking of  state for actions, I needed to think  to the highest degree my own. My university shells out  fat salaries for profs to conduct  inquiry and teach  narrow down seminars to a  fewer advanced students, but it has consigned the noble and  polar task of  c   ommand all students to  economize better to a patchwork  convention of temporary employees whose  counterbalance is so  low-spirited that many would  cast out for food stamps. And I’m the fat-cat professor who directs that writing program. True, I complain to the administration, indignantly and frequently, about the  counseling the school exploits English comp teachers. I  scramble to improve  report teachers’ working conditions. I’ve even succeeded in improving those conditions, at least marginally, in recent years. But none of this erases one simple  point: I’m still the one who hires people to do this work at near-poverty wages, while I enjoy a much  high salary.By the time I had thought  with all this, the woman had stumbled through her excuse and hung up. Immediately I looked in the phone directory for the number of a possible  refilling teacher. And as I dialed and prepared to  sweat to convince somebody to teach a class on short  presentment for near-p   overty-pay and no benefits, I  essentialed to tell myself, “I’m not the kind of person who does this kind of thing.” But I knew I couldn’t.If you want to get a full essay,  request it on our website: 
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