Chapter 10: A Desperate Student
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Just then, a young woman peeked into the open door and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, Dr. Green. But there’s a student here insisting to see you.”
“He rolled his eyes and asked,” What is it about?”
“She won’t say but says it’s urgent.”
“Fine, send her in.” Then, looking at Dan, “It never ends.”
A moment later, a young woman of perhaps 18 or 19 was shepherded in, with the secretary announcing, “This is Tenisha, Dr. Green.”
“What do you want, Tenisha,” He responded, looking at the young black woman dressed in jeans and a faded T-Shirt in nondescript pastel colors.
“I’m sorry to bother you, dean, but I need subway fare to get home tonight.” The woman looked at Dr. Green intently, in neither a pleading nor a demanding tone, looking down from time to time as if embarrassed.”
“You need money for a subway token? Why are you coming to me? What do I have to do with that?”
“I don’t know who else to ask,” she answered, scrunching up her nose as if the answer should be obvious.
“You did not know that you would need money for a subway ride back home when you came in just now? What happened? Did you lose your purse on the way here? Get mugged?” His tone was sarcastic, and unnecessarily hurtful to Dan’s ears.
“No”, I just did not have enough money for two tokens.
“I’m not made of money. I don’t have a slush fund for students who can’t afford to pay for their transportation. Why don’t you walk home?”
“It’s too far. I live in Brooklyn, and it would take me hours to walk home after my classes.”
“Well,” he retorted, still in a sarcastic tone and louder voice than necessary, “That’s something you should have thought about before coming, don’t you think? That’s why you have student loans, or maybe you need to get yourself a job.”
“I have a job”, she said, defiantly. Anger now tinging her voice. “I just don’t have the money for the subway fare today. I have never asked you before.”
“No, you haven’t, maybe because you’re new. But others do every day. I am not your piggy bank. Why don’t you go see your admissions counselor? His salary depends on your coming to school regularly. Mine does not.”
“Please,” she pleaded for the first time. How am I supposed to get home?
At this Dan could no longer be just an observer and pulled out his wallet, offering her a $5 bill. “Here—and get a sandwich or snack for lunch too, OK?”
“NO!” Exclaimed Dr. Green as the girl extended her hand towards Dan’s offered bill. “They have to understand that they can’t just panhandle every day.” With that the girl pulled back her hand as if stung.
“Just this once,” Dr. Green continued, “I will help you out. I won’t give you any money, but” he stopped and reached under his desk pulling out a plastic bag, “here—take these cans and bottles. The corner deli across the street will take them and give you back the deposits. There’s more than enough here for a token. That’s a lot of money. But I’ll do this just this once.”
The girl reached out for the proffered bag, taking it and giving a very quiet “Thank you” while turning towards the door.
“Wait a moment, Ms.” Dan said. “Please take this and when you go to return the cans and bottles get yourself a sandwich,” he said offering the $5 still in his hand to her. You can’t learn on an empty stomach. Go on, please take it. Maybe someday when I forget my wallet home someone will do the same for me.” She looked up into his eyes with a thin smile and took the money, once again saying “Thank you” and holding Dan’s eyes for a moment. Then she walked out of the office.
As soon as she walked out, Dr. Green got up, walked to the door and closed it, returning to his seat. “Don’t ever do that again!” he said to Dan with barely suppressed anger in his voice. “You don’t know these kids, but you will. They will bleed you dry like leeches if they think you an easy mark. If you do that in Queens, you’ll never get rid of them.”
“Sorry, Dr. Green” Dan said. “But that girl did not seem a leech to me—just a desperate young woman who seemed caught between a rock and a hard place. You said she had never asked before—I might take a similar though gentler tack if anyone repeatedly asked for carfare.”
“You will learn the hard way.”
“You’re probably right, and I’m sorry if I overstepped here—she is not my student and this is your office. I apologize for that. But I noticed she was wearing very well-worn clothing that was spotless. And she was clean, well-groomed and bright eyed—not the usual panhandler profile in the streets whom I also, frankly, avoid and very seldom give money to. If I said nothing, I know I would not sleep tonight—and that, if you want to look at it from a purely selfish point of view on my part, is well worth $5 to me.”
“Fine Dan,” Dr. Green sighed, while rifling through a desk drawer for a file that he pulled out and placed atop his desk, then continued. “It’s your money, but know that these kids and most of the teachers will walk all over you if you let them.” He then handed Dan the file which Dan opened and began thumbing through.
“What I just gave you is a list of some of the forms you should use for various tasks in case your predecessor did not leave you such a folder. You can keep these as originals and make copies of each for your routine use. I developed these myself, and, though they are not official forms, you may find them useful.”
Dan noticed various forms titled “Teacher Evaluations,” “Behavioral Issues,” “Formal Reprimands,” “Lesson Plans,” “Student Suspension,” “Book Orders,” “Requisition Form” and several other one-page forms for dealing with routine matters. “Thank you, Dr. Green” he said after quickly thumbing through these.
“Call me Howard, Dan. We’re going to be working together so no need for formality.”
“Thanks, Howard.” Dan replied, noting the offer had not been made initially while Howard had used Dan’s first name from the start. He smiled at what he took to be a simple mind game to show dominance, or perhaps just insecurity on the other’s part. He had noticed that his staff seemed to refer to him as either Dr. Green or Dean Green, and his smile broadened further as he considered that his colleague would likely take Dan’s smile as pleasure for being recognized as an almost-equal. Nevertheless, he did not really dislike the man for other that his treatment of the student, but then again, he had a hard time really disliking anyone—something friends had sometimes ribbed him about.
“Am I free to create my own forms if I find the need, or do I need to get approval?
“You can do whatever you think best. No approval is ever needed unless you want to fire or hire someone—the Director gets the final say on those decisions—or if you want to spend any money, always a challenge unless dealing with routine office supplies. And don’t even think about asking for anything useful, like a computer. If you want such luxuries, you’ll need to buy your own. We don’t have a discretionary budget as such—all requisitions have to be approved by the Director.
Dan noticed there was no computer on Howard’s desk and did not mention that Marvin had promised he’d have one on his desk by tomorrow, along with a printer. He had no wish to stoke the other’s insecurity if that was, in fact, at play here and not just simple arrogance.
“Howard, I notice in the forms you gave me that there is a form for student suspensions. What type of due process are students given if they are suspended or expelled—or have a grade grievance, for example?”
Howard laughed, then responded “No such thing, Dan. If you want to set up a grievance process, that’s up to you, but you’d just open up a can of worms. Who would you ask to participate? How would you schedule it? No. All you need is the form as to suspensions or expulsions. Just make sure you mark down a reason with details as to the circumstances of the transgression—almost always behavioral issues—and have the student sign it. If they won’t sign it, threaten them with expulsion. They will always sign then as they don’t want their dole dollars affected.
“What about grade grievances?”
“What about them?” Howard retorted. “The grade is the grade. They don’t get to debate that. Now, if you think the teacher has done something wrong, you can look into it and request justification for the grade, but the student is never involved in that process. I usually tell them I’ll look into it and then get back to them that the grade is appropriate.”
“Do you actually look into it?” Dan asked, suspecting what the answer would be.
“Maybe two or three times in the five years I’ve been here when I had my suspicions about the teacher involved. The word gets around that the grades are not subject to challenge. Problem solved.”
“What If I look into it and find the faculty member did not award a fair grade?”
“Then you change it on the transcript. You are the keeper of the transcripts—we have no registrar. If you don’t agree with a grade if you actually decide to look into the matter, just give the student whatever grade you want. Nobody will know or question it, and it is YOUR signature on the official transcript. Teachers just submit the grades to you.”
This conversation was making Dan more and more uncomfortable, and red flags were popping up in nearly every discussion in his mind. But he just said, “I See.”
Howard looked at him intently for a moment then smiled and responded, “You are over-thinking this Dan. This is not a college. You are in charge and have basically unlimited power to do whatever you believe to be right or expedient. These students are not going to challenge your decisions beyond the school level, which means you and Marvin. As long as he backs you up, your word is law. If he doesn’t, you won’t last long anyway. So be careful what waves you think you can make. Tread softly and test the waters before diving in.”
“Thanks, Howard. I appreciate your counsel and will take it under advisement.”
“Good, now leave the folder here and I’ll show you around. But my first appointment of the day will be walking in soon, so sit tight.” Howard said. And, as if on cue, the receptionist walked in with another student in tow. This time it was a male.
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