Paying for College - The Novel

by Kenneth Szulczyk

  Chapter 18

  Brothers, I can’t believe it. It has been two weeks since my failed break in, and every time, I hear a slamming door echo in the dorm’s corridors, I jump. I thought the police would be pounding on my door to arrest me, but they never came.

  This morning, who would ever know I would wake up and the next few hours would change my life, plus the lives of others. Today started like any other day in this boring, tiny town except I slept in on this particular day.

  I woke up and saw the clock displayed 1:00 pm. I jumped out of bed, showered, dressed, and ran to the cafeteria.

  I grabbed a tray of slop-glop and lined up five extra-strong black coffees in a row.

  I dumped a healthy layer of ketchup onto my food and spoon-fed myself.

  A student sitting at the next table shouted, “I can’t believe the university will raise tuition next year.” Then he pounded his fist onto the table, “Damn, those greedy bastards.”

  Quietness invaded the cafeteria as everyone turned to look at the disruptive student.

  Someone shouted, “Greedy admin. I even heard the university president and dean gave themselves raises.”

  Another shouted, “Yeah, they stole their raises from the students.”

  I shouted, “I hear you, brothers. I can’t afford it either.” I stood up and pointed at my food, “And look at the crap they serve us. We pay a fortunate to eat here, but they herd us like pigs and feed us slop.”

  Another student screamed, “We should do something about it?”

  I stood up on my chair and addressed the crowd, “I agree. We must do something. I’m a reporter for the university newspaper. Those bastards in the administration made me publish a false news story that stated students were ecstatic about next year’s tuition hike.” I scanned the crowd, “And let me tell you, most students are furious about next year’s tuition hike including me.”

  Every student began screaming and chanting, “Fuck the administration.”

  After the crowd had quieted, I pointed to a male student to my left, “What do you think? Are you happy with the tuition hike?”

  “Hell no.”

  I pointed at another, “What about you? Are you happy?”

  “No. I can’t afford it.”

  Then I pointed at another to my right, “What about you?”

  “Fuck no. I’ve paid enough.”

  “I’m with you. I’m tired too, to feed those fat cats in the administration. We must stand up for ourselves. We must make sure the bastards in the university hear our voices. The admin cannot silence us. They can’t plant fake stories in the newspaper. They can’t bully us to force us to pay more. We must fight for what we believe in. We must stand against the administration.”

  I stepped onto the table. “So who’s with me?”

  Many from the crowd yelled, “We are.”

  I pointed at a person towards the back, “Are you with us?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  I pointed at another, “What about you. Will you stand with us, and fight this corrupt administration?”

  “Yes. Until the end.”

  I looked at the swinging kitchen doors and saw one kitchen staff standing by the door twitching nervously. Another staff pulled her cell phone out and called someone, probably my buddies from campus security.

  I continued, “We must protest against next semester’s tuition hike. Call all your friends and tell them to meet us at the front of the business building. Then we’ll inform Dean Tremaine, the next university president, what we think of his tuition hike.”

  I stepped down on the chair and then onto the floor and marched out. Most of the students followed me in unison as we marched to the business building.

  When we left the cafeteria, I looked behind me and saw about fifty students. By the time we approached the business building, the crowd swelled to hundreds.

  I ran up the steps to the business building and tried to open the door, but the campus security guards locked the doors and stood on the other side of the doors in a row.

  I turned to face the crowds and said, “Look at Dean Tremaine. He’s afraid of us. He hides behind his security guards. The administrators are also afraid of us. They can sit behind closed doors and plot a massive tuition hike, but once the students start protesting, they cower under their desks and shake with fear. They even have the security guards block and lock the doors. Look, they are a bunch of cowards, escaping the pan pandemonium. They don’t want to hear us. They don’t want to hear our voices. Those bastards just want to steal more money from us.”

  Oh, brothers, it was a remarkable sight as I looked at the surging, angry crowds and within fifteen minutes, the whole student body stood in unison against the university.

  I continued, “Those administrators made me published a fake newspaper article. They said the students were happy with the tuition hike. They said they would offer more scholarships. They said their job was to help and educate students. But they sit in their fancy offices, earn their humongous salaries, and drink gourmet coffees. They prop their feet onto their desks and laugh at us. They think we are a bunch of weak, gullible students who will do anything to get that diploma. When a student comes in need and asked for help, the administrator invents a rule to shoo the student away.”

  I tapped the side of my forehead with my index finger several times, “Think about this for a second. The university cannot control its spending. We know how much we pay, but we don’t know where the money goes. The university is as transparent as a barrel of turds. The administration uses convoluted logic. For example, if the university raises tuition and increases the scholarships by the same amount, how could the university gain anything? However, the university never published the number of the scholarships it will dough out. For the university to squeeze more money from us, it needs to offer fewer scholarships. It’s just a politician’s empty promise. A façade. So what do we tell those greedy administrators?”

  The crowd shouted, “No tuition hike!”

  “I don’t think they heard you. Tell them again what you think about next year’s tuition hike?”

  The crowd shouted louder, “No tuition hike!”

  Five police cars arrived. The police parked their squad cars with flashing red and blue lights on the edge of the crowd. Then cops lined up on the edge of the crowd.

  Ten minutes later, Channel 5 News van pulled to the edge of the crowd.

  I continued, “The administrators cannot hear you. They are sipping their champagne as a string quartet plays classical music in the corner of their offices. What do you say about next year’s tuition hike?”

  The crowd screamed, “No tuition hike. No tuition hike…”

  The crowd and I raised our right fists. We were united. We were strong. We shouted, “No tuition hike,” as we pumped our right fists up and down.

  We kept chanting, “No tuition hike.”

  A contingent of security guards walked to the top of the steps. The chief security guard addressed the crowd with a bullhorn, “Students, the administration hears you. Please dispense and return to your studies.”

  “Booooooooooo,” the crowd shouted in unison.

  Three police officers walked through the crowds and joined the security guards at the top of the steps. The higher-ranking officer addressed the crowd, “Students, you must disperse. You do not have a permit to assemble a rally.”

  The crowds hissed, “Boooooooo,” again.

  I raised my hands and the crowd became quiet again. “Can you believe these guys? Dean Tremaine is afraid to address you, so he sent these jokers in uniform to intimidate you. So what do we say to Dean Tremaine?”

  “No tuition hike. No tuition hike…”

  The crowds continued to swell. When I looked out to the crowd, I could see a dense forest of students. Brothers, I didn’t think this campus had this many students. Perhaps, the students from the neighboring colleges arrived to join our protest, or the high school students wanted a taste of college. r />
  Brothers, we were all frustrated. We were all furious. We were all united. Those bastards in the administration drove us to our breaking point. And on several occasions, it looked that it would turn ugly. Several troublemakers hurled rocks at the police officers and police cars while others tipped over trashcans.

  Dean Tremaine, finally, appeared on the other side of the glass doors of the business building.

  The crowds hissed, “Booooooo.” Then they chanted in unison, “Go home Dean Tremaine. Go home Dean Tremaine…”

  A security guard unlocked one of the doors and the Dean stepped outside surrounded by the security guards.

  The crowds continued hissing, “Go home Dean Tremaine.”

  The dean raised the bullhorn, “Students, the administration has heard you. We know you are frustrated. We know you are upset about next year’s tuition enhancement.”

  The crowds became quiet.

  The Dean continued, “The board of trustees met for an emergency meeting. The board has sided with you. They unanimously decided no tuition enhancement for next year. Please disperse. The students have won. Go back to your classes to study. The administration will not raise tuition next year. ”

  The crowds began cheering and whistling.

  Oh, brothers, when the crowds surged, I felt the pent up rage and frustration as if I was sitting on a mountain of dynamite, but once the president had uttered his words, that anger and frustration disappeared. Students began dispersing. The protest had ended.

  I started to walk down the steps, but five police officers surrounded me.

  I asked, “Is there a problem, officers?”

  “You’re under arrest.”

  “May I ask –“ I was on the ground with my hands forced behind my back before I could finish my question.

  Two officers helped me up and escorted me to the nearest police car.

  “May I ask what I’m being arrested for?”

  “Disturbing the public. Inciting a riot. Assembling a protest without a permit.”

  ‘Is that all?”

  Oh, brothers, many students looked in my direction but no one came to my rescue. The students got what they wanted – no tuition hike. They were going to scamper back to their pathetic little lives and live in their small worlds like gerbils in a cage and act as if nothing happened.

  The police slid me into the back seat of the squad car and slammed the door shut. Two officers sat in the front while one sat next to me.

  I asked, “Do we have time to get some donuts and coffee? We can save time and go through the drive-thru.”

  The officer sitting on the passenger side turned to face me, grabbed the top of his nightstick for emphasis, and said. “Wait until we get you to the station, that’s where your donut is waiting for you.”

  “Great, could I request a Bavarian cream filled.”

  “Sorry, kid. We only offer black and blue dowsed in pain.”

  I swallowed a dry lump.

  Of course, we students should have known better. I learned the board of trustees are a bunch of lying motherfuckers. They didn’t raise tuition by 15%. Instead, the bastards met during another emergency meeting during the summer and raised it by 5%. The students thought they had won, but they actually had lost. That rage and frustration never returned, or at least during my stint at the university.