Anyways, I digress....
A few years ago, I
decided to go back to school in my late 30's. I had found myself, if we
are to use Hollywood slang, type cast in a series of sales roles. Also,
little did I know it at the time, but the tuition I paid in South Carolina for
a three-semester post Bachelors Associate degree would have paid for in state
law school tuition in the State of Florida. Yes, that Magical Mouse
apparently does a lot for the state of Florida in terms of education. Oh
well, hindsight is 20/20.
My first semester was
the hardest, because I had taken on so much that I rarely found time to unwind
and relax. I took 15 credit hours (considered a full academic load),
worked 40 hours, and dated a far-left winged liberal pacifist who demanded much
of, well no, he demanded my full attention. In the beginning, it was he
who pushed me to get out of the sales arena and do something I was more
passionate about. And, at the time, I had an affinity for law. He
found an ABA accredited program at a local college and drove me to the
orientation. Later, the thing he pushed me to do made him bitter and
resentful. When I started spending less and less time with him, he told
me: “It’s you who made all these high reaching goals for yourself.” Wow, shame on me as a woman for making high
reaching goals for myself and not being up a man’s buttocks all the time!! The moral here: Sometimes the space shuttle
has to shed its rocket booster and keep on going. And, well, he's
history, after that first semester.
During my first semester
I had to take "Nursing Anatomy." Honestly, I believe this
course to be the "weed out" class. It would have made perfect
sense for legal students to take a "medical terminology" class.
But, no as an American Bar Association accredited degree, we had to take full-fledged
nursing anatomy, because a board of professionals and an accrediting agency
thought it was somehow necessary. If there are any legal professional
working in, say, "Personal Injury," just a loose knowledge of medical
terms and the ability to Google would suffice. Alas, I learned the
Latin/Greek names for all muscles, organs, parts of organs and bones in the body, along with
microbiology and all other unnecessary information for a legal degree.
Going back to school as
an adult was already a culture shock. Have you ever heard of
"shirking." It's where the class can quickly ascertain who the
smartest person in class is and then become a parasite. Anytime a project
was assigned and we went to the library, the entire class would congregate
around me to see what I was doing…before they even read the instructions! Quite honestly, I would be sitting in the
library and watch someone get up to get a legal book and another student come
over with a smart phone and take a picture of his/her work product. In
legal bibliography class, two students were expelled from the program.
One girl was let back in once the powers that be determined she innocently sent
another girl her homework to help her understand. Innocently not knowing,
the other girl just printed off her work and put her name on it. So, I
became a loner and kept to myself and to my goal of finishing first in my class.
Our nursing anatomy
class was in one of the oldest buildings on campus. You've probably been
in one of these classrooms before where the acoustics are already
terrible. If a book drops it echoes around the brick walls and asbestos
ceiling tiles. As luck would have it, I sat on the front row right in
front of this female student who was probably fresh out of high school.
Every class, she would come in 10-15 late and cause a loud commotion, throwing
her books down and pulling everything out of her bag with crumpling papers.
She would bring food and drink to class, even though the signs prohibited food
and drink. And, she would sit and talk to the older lady at a normal
speaking voice.
One day I remember
looking at the Professor lecturing and all I could hear between my two earlobes
was the crunching of ice cubes. And,
absolutely no one out of about 15 students would say a word to this girl,
because she was a minority. Apparently,
with this generation, their parents have told them how special they are so they
think everyone in class is just sitting waiting for their entry and to overhear
their special distracting conversations. We just kept looking around at
each other wondering who was finally going to be the sacrificial bunter to say
something or getting other runner in scoring positions. (Sorry, a little
softball lingo)
I had a goal to make an
A in the anatomy class, so I became highly annoyed that I could not hear the
lecture. It was like the Adjunct professor, also a minority, would be
talking but nothing would be coming out of her mouth. And, the time in
which I was sitting in the lecture became completely pointless. It was
the “minority girl” show! Also annoying,
you may ask? The exams were based off
lecture notes (not just the text). After
the first couple of weeks, I had all I could handle with this girl’s complete
rude and disrespectful behavior to the entire class.
After class on day, I
walked up to the professor who was a Buddhist pacifist (and we had talked about
pharma before and how more people should meditate) and I asked her if she was
distracted by the rude student. She shrugged her shoulders and gave this
look like: “yes, but what can I do?” I
asked the professor is she could kindly speak with the student and explain to
her how disruptive she was to the rest of the class. The professor told
me she felt uncomfortable speaking with the girl as she felt it was
confrontational to do so. Being somewhat understanding, I asked if I
could have the name and contact of her manager or supervisor. Perhaps someone on up the ladder could have a
brief conversation with her about being quiet during the lecture. I
emailed this person and didn't not receive any response. So, then I
researched the name and contact of the Dean of the Biology program. I did
not hear back from this person either.
Shortly after, I went to
the counseling center at the university and told them about my experience in a
classroom there. I was paying full price tuition, wanted a 4.0 and was
unable to hear the lecture in my nursing anatomy class. The counselor was
almost livid this was happening and couldn't believe the professor was taking
no responsibility in resolving the issue for me. The Counselor told me
that I should turn around in class and ask the student, point blank, to please
be quiet. When I did, the situation got
a whole lot worse. It became the student’s
mission to drum stick her pencil and make any distractions possible. Rude people typically don’t like to be called
out on rude behavior. So, duly noted.
Then a few days later, I
was contacted by the Dean of my college who was also my Academic Advisor.
When I walked into her office for our scheduled appointment, she asked me to
close the door. Then she proceeded to unleash wrath and attempt to extract
several pounds of flesh from me for attempting to resolve a clear issue with
the “higher ups” of another section/college. She said that I had created
quite a stir at the University by “demanding” a response from someone in the college
of Biology. I retorted: "Oh is that right? I'm the student here.
I'm the customer. I'm paying to attend this college and for a degree and
thus I believe I'm entitled fully to what I pay for which includes being able
to learn and to hear the lecture." (...silly assertive me). And, what happened next, I shall never forget. So much so, you have no idea how much I enjoy
recounting this story.
As I sat there looking
at my Academic Advisor, who I had been a civil lawyer and who, up until that
moment had garnered my respect, I couldn’t believe what she said next. According to her, since I had created “such a
mess,” the only remedy was for her to bake some banana bread. I would
love to have seen the expression on my face as I sat on the edge of my seat
awaiting her next idea. She went on with
her strategy: During the next class, she
would be sitting in the back of the room watching as I would, then, turn around
offer this girl some banana bread as a peace offering. And, I was to say how sorry I was. I sat there completely quiet and speechless
(which is very odd for me). I felt like I had no choice but to play along
with this banana bread charade.
So, the next class
came. The girl came in ridiculously late as usual. We stopped the class, since the professor was
in on the charade. I then turned around
in front of all my peers, and as their mouths dropped to the floor in utter
confusion, I offered this bully and menace to our classroom a piece of banana
bread and basically apologized to her for getting upset that she was disruptive
to the class. I mean, I should have said, "I'm so sorry I disrupted
your Freedom of Speech." Alas, I said something to the effect of,
"I'm sorry for the way I may have affected you. Would you please
like a piece of banana bread." The girl looked at me confused and
almost disgusted and refused the bread.
Can I just say
this? The person I am today: I would
have told my Advisor to go pound salt on a loaf of banana bread. By the
way, for those who may care, I did finish with a perfect 4.0, having fought the
hardest in "nursing anatomy" to be able to learn. And, besides the $200 in cash I received
post graduation, not one mention was made of my accolade and accomplishment by any of the staff or the faculty. Additionally, as lead attorney in our mock trial,
I landed the highest settlement in college history. Not one word, except for the top dog Dean of the entire College who looked at me with a thumbs up and said emphatically: "IMPRESSIVE!" In fact, at the graduation
ceremony, students with a lower GPA, but who were considered minority, were
celebrated for their achievements.
Just one last thing I
would like to make mention of with my experience with this “Advisor”.
Prior to this above referenced happenstance, I was emailing her about a traffic
ticket I had gotten on campus. My Advisor taught a night class, “Ethics.” The class was from 5:30-8:30 p.m. I
came out after class one night that first Fall semester, in the dark and walked
to my car and started it up. As I was driving off, I noticed a citation
on my windshield. I opened it up and found a $50 “first offense”
violation. I drove back to my parking space and looked around for any
signs, whatsoever.
The next day I went to
the citation office and inquired about my offense. I was told I had
illegally parking in faculty parking. Looking confused, I asked how I was
supposed to know the space was reserved for faculty. I was then told that
the parking paint was green, and the green paint indicated faculty
parking. Looking even more confused I asked how I was to know that as a
new student. I was then told the information on parking paint was found
on page 154 of the student handbook.
I took the time to look
up South Carolina state statutes on parking fines. What I found was that
you cannot fine someone for illegal parking unless there are clearly posted
signs. Now the citation office already told me that there were no
appeals. Let me repeat that, they would not allow student to appeal
tickets, which is just a very basic step of democracy. However, when I
presented them with the state statute and explained I would be going to the
paper with my article about how the local college had a little parking ticket
racket for new student, well, my ticket was destroyed immediately and taken out
of the system. That's what I call a "forced appeal."
After emailing my
Advisor about the whole traffic ticket ordeal, she immediately emailed me back
asking for a meeting. I mean, silly me, I thought, as a legal student she
would have been proud of my research and for standing up for the law.
Alas, she looked at me in disgust, and told me that it would have just been
easier to pay the damn ticket and go on with my life. And, then she
insinuated that I may need some medication. Geez, silly me as a
woman for sticking up for my legal rights.
For any reader of this
blog post who has taken the SAT or ACT, the questions often ask: "What was
the author's purpose/intent in writing this? Well, I shall leave that up
for interpretation. But, please know any time someone offers me banana
bread, I have a hearty laugh knowing how miserable this woman had to be. And, it inspires a rock-a-billy tune called: "This Damn Banana Bread." Also, I'll leave you with this. It's an
old management adage: If you think the customer (or student in this case)
is a distraction, then you have the wrong job.
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