My past is my ....

Submitted into Contest #51 in response to: Write a story about someone who's haunted by their past.... view prompt

0 comments

General

By then I had become a professor at a small college for students who wanted exclusive attention from their school. I remember when I made the decision to become a professor that I was standing in my kitchen while I was washing dishes. My original plan was to dedicate my life to research after I obtained my PHD. When I was invited to defend my dissertation, I was elated. It was a panel of 4 men and 4 women. I was nervous as though I was an inmate waiting to answer questions which would either grant me a parole or life back to my home office where I would be churning paper seeking the truth.

Instead they asked me about theories which I had long discovered and had ample evidence to support. It started rough as the first visiting professor who asked me a question, was clearly in disagreement with my assumptions. I found that to be challenging, yet I did not want to be frazzled by mere questions. I took my time thinking by repeating back to her the question which she had asked me. I cited a study which I had used in my research to support my theory. Still, she was not convinced, She mentioned that she had lived in the communities that I was studying, and my conclusions had no value and were based on theory rather than reality and facts. I recalled a newspaper article which debated her premise and also arrived at a similar conclusion as I did. She begged to differ and felt that real life experience was a much more reliable barometer to measure outcomes. That was true, however studies tend to have a language of their own. I got a feeling that she was not following the directions of the case studies. Humans are infallible and biased. They can agree to alter their behaviors at any time as a result, everything must be taken into consideration. Not just what the researcher sees, or reads about, but applications in life where there are no biases or presumptions. All other sciences must arrive to the same conclusion for a theory to be true as in the most high. The idea of the most high is derived from upper limits, or the maximum of an exponential measurement.


I waited for weeks to hear how I did in my presentation. When the mail arrived with an envelope from my department, I knew that my days as a Teaching Assistant were about to be over. I could sense that I had made it, and indeed I had. I liked so much how I survived the days of my beginning of my PHD studies, I knew that My experience would be life changing. Days later I was invited by my department for a meeting with the Alumni Association. I wondered why they would invite me. They said it was a surprise and they had no plans of telling me what the surprise was. I woke up the following morning nervous because I had no idea what I was about to face. We met at a hotel which is located on campus, which is generally used by parents who visit their students. When I arrived all the professors who had questioned me when I had to defend my dissertation were all present.

" I am glad you made it." said one gentleman who was smiling from ear to ear.

"I am happy to be here, gentlemen, ladies." I said nervous and wondering if they were not about to tell me that they made a mistake accepting my dissertation.

"Well, we had a faculty meeting with the Dean. We were greatly impressed with your performance the other day." He paused.

"We also had a meeting with the chancellor and he agrees with us that, it will be this college's pride if you accepted our invitation to join our faculty staff as a tenured professor." he said and waited for my response.

"I don't know what to say." I said visibly shaken.

"Just say you accept and we will all adjourn this meeting and expect you to be in the faculty lounge when school starts." one of the professors said.

"Well, what can I say. Let me think for a minute. Can we take a break. I need to think for a second." I said.

"Take your time. We can meet again tomorrow, that will be fine too." the professor said.

I walked to the cafeteria and bought myself a soda and sat down on the chairs that lined the patio. I had no thought, my mid was blank.

As soon as I returned to where all the professors were, I did not even sit down, I extended my hand to all of them and thanked them for their consideration and told them that I accepted their offer.

I was then directed to the personnel office where I had to fill out forms. I was briefed about my role and I was given a syllabus to consider or revise if I needed to. They handed me books which were supposed to be used and made me sign a document promising to publish a book at least once every five years.


When I got home I rushed to tell my parents and all who supported me when I was in college. I was a star for a day. No one in my family was in academia. I was the first one. Although it would have been exciting to do research, I felt that becoming a professor was a calling that I needed not to second guess. I modified the syllabus and read as much as I could to prepare for my first day in class.


My class was in a remote building that students had to either drive to or ride bikes to. As a result many students chose my class as their last class because of the amount of walking that they would have to do to get to class. I had a room full of students which is unusual for a new professor who has not been tried or tested. I sounded like I knew what I was talking about. The lesson that I learnt when I was defending my dissertation was that books alone do not fully describe theories. In my class perhaps there were several students who had experienced my subject first hand and as a result they would have a lot more information than I can read in books or letters. I was not intimidated. Even though I could tell that my students were testing me, probably not all of them were Freshmen. I knew my subject and I was not shy to show them that I knew what I was talking about,

They say that success is measured by how many students drop a class and when they drop a class. I made my quizzes super easy because I wanted to keep my students. However I promised myself that the final exam will have to measure what they had learnt. It had to be difficult that way I would know for sure that the students understood the work and they got what I promised that they would learn from my class. It was a happy medium because not only did I manage to get them interested, I also got them to be curious and to see what my intensions were.


Years of teaching made my class more and more interesting. I was happy to be acknowledged by my department. I was even happier to be told that my class will become part of the General Education required class. It meant that I had made a difference as a teacher and the students benefited from my work.

One day the registrar's office sent a list of students who were enrolled in my class a week before school started. I noticed a familiar name from one of the roosters that were given to me with the enrolled students. She was my classmate in high school. I hadn't seen her in ages. I wondered how she found out about my class. I was uneasy because I was not her favorite person. When school commenced she rushed to my table where I was preparing for the day's lesson. She asked me how I was doing? She apparently stumbled upon our school catalogue at her cousin's house. She was surprised that I returned to college after I graduated with my undergraduate degree.

"I am taking your class to remind myself what high school was like. I think you remember how much we hated having to study. We gave up thinking that we would not be able to get all "As' no matter how much we tried." she said.

"I know I am surprised too by my success. I started out not as an "A" student. I struggled a bit in college. Once I figured out what it took to be a student, the ball started rolling." I said having forgotten that I was not always an "A" student. How could I forget those days. The truth is, I was smart, but not smart enough to get all "As" without studying. If I missed a study session, I was not going to do well and that was always the case. Somehow I ended up with a decent GPA yet there were so many of my classmates who probably thought that I was a loser and certainly without a future. I worried if she would call me out in class trying to make a point that I was not that great in high school. I waited for the other shoe to drop, but I was so good and in command of my details, that only her disliking me would make say or do something. She did try to show me up. I knew that if I did not showcase what I was made of, the manna was just going to evaporate. My magic worked it's way to all of my students. The fact that someone had stood up to me created an unexpected buzz. I was not happy but I was not upset either. I felt that I would succeed with more and more such encounters. Sadly, I was no longer the same teacher that I was when I first started teaching. I had put high school behind me, as a past that I had no intention of visiting and it was here to be dealt with. How? I wondered....

July 22, 2020 13:38

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in the Reedsy Book Editor. 100% free.