Although Leo held brief weekly staff meetings, today’s session was the kind of formal meeting he held monthly to review items of business and to provide a forum for general discussion on miscellaneous topics of concern to the faculty. Leo’s approach to faculty business was always warm and informal, but still the tenor of these meetings could become vitriolic when strong feelings and opposing viewpoints were involved. Though such interchanges were always distasteful to Leo, he usually managed them skillfully. His fondness for Paul was no secret in the department, yet he conscientiously avoided playing favorites as he made administrative decisions. This personal caveat was always apparent in meetings such as the one about to convene and was generally accepted as one of Leo’s strengths.
It was early afternoon as the staff began to gather in the third-floor conference room. The décor of the room was simple and utilitarian. No paintings hung on the walls, nor were there many odds and ends of furniture to accommodate aesthetic tastes. It was a corner room with large windows on two sides, affording an impressive view of the campus below. A large conference table made of dark wood occupied the center of the room and padded chairs surrounded the table. A number of additional chairs lined the walls to accommodate any outside the immediate staff who might have received invitations to sit in on meetings or make special presentations. Leo sat at the head of the table, and at his side Dr. Louise Nichols served as an executive secretary for the group, noting items that required follow-up action. Dr. Nichols was fastidious in carrying out this assignment, providing written minutes of each meeting to all meeting attendees. She also maintained an action list for Leo to ensure administrative action on key decisions.
Most of the other staff members were already in their places as Paul entered the room and seated himself. His eyes immediately fell upon Rex Hale at the end of the table opposite Leo. A sheaf of papers, some periodicals, and a couple of textbooks were strewn in front of Rex. Obviously he would be making a major presentation.
On schedule, Leo called the meeting to order and Dr. Nichols distributed copies of the agenda. It was roughly the same agenda Paul had seen several days before during his meeting with Maureen. Staff members struggled with heavy eyelids and a bit of boredom as the initial part of the meeting droned on through a tedious review of policy and calendar items. Mental inertia was always the risk associated with meetings scheduled after lunch. But the pace of the things picked up dramatically as Leo turned an indefinite block of time to Rex for a matter of “Curriculum Redress,” as it was termed on the agenda.
Rex stood at his place at the end of the table and, with no effort at subtlety, began to address his concerns. “I think the time has come to assess the balance of two factors that should govern us as professional educators; first, the importance of academic freedom, and secondly, the importance of academic integrity. Unfortunately there is a third factor which inevitably disrupts the all-important balance here – that being personal ego needs. I believe the professional educator is beset with an occupational hazard – that of being enamored with the sound of one’s own voice or becoming intoxicated with the spell of one’s own influence. Good teachers must ever guard against becoming prima donnas, fashioning their lectures for the effect they may generate in the classroom rather than the fostering of learning and the enhancement of understanding. After all is said and done, is this not our highest objective? – the nurturing of understanding?
“The formal classroom remains one of the few places in this world of competing ideas and agendas where the rational mind can be accorded its true importance. Those who teach must be far more than mere purveyors of information. They have an obligation to dispense the food that sustains intellectual life. Our first obligation is to teach so as to stimulate intellectual curiosity, to nurture critical thought and detached objectivity, to foster the kind of research that pushes back the horizons of knowledge.”
Though he tended to be easily inflated with the importance of his own ideas, his colleagues knew Rex to be absolutely sincere about the things he said, despite his favoring a somewhat melodramatic approach to issues. He continued with pedantic eloquence and gradually came to the crux of what he had to say.
“And now to the matter of academic freedom. In this context I wish to raise a question of propriety. Is a display of political extremism and ideological intemperance such as we saw take place in front of the ROTC building a legitimate extension of teaching? Is it something we are obligated to endorse in the spirit of academic freedom? It seems to me that this is a matter of importance to us in as much as this orgy of student activism was spawned and orchestrated by one of our own faculty members.
“But what gives me even greater concern is that this pandering to students is merely an extension of what transpires regularly in his classroom where it parades under the guise of teaching. I see no legitimate place in our curriculum for the doctrine of social change or the ethics of the ‘new morality’ – even in the name of academic freedom! Such a departure from the traditional curriculum has brought public embarrassment to one of the great departments of this University. I, for one, feel the obligation to object. By association, we are all tainted through this blatant misuse of the teacher’s trust.
“I am reluctant to cite the following facts, but under the present circumstances I feel something of a professional obligation. Recently I have received several transfer students from the General Psychology class taught by our colleague – a class these students found offensive and abrasive. As I welcomed these young people into my class I found myself wondering how many others feel the same way, but who are unable to move to a section taught by another instructor. Be that as it may, I think it’s safe to conclude that not all students want to be pandered to or entertained.”
“How many were there, Rex?” Paul’s question was unexpected and left Rex somewhat rattled.
“That kind of a question hardly seems appropriate, Paul. This is a faculty meeting, not a sparring match.”
“I thought that’s what you were doing,” retorted Paul darkly. There was an ominous tone in his voice, making it apparent that the two young icons of the Psychology Department were about to duel.
“I suggest that you be cordial enough to wait while I finish my prepared remarks. There’ll be adequate time for all here to air their views.”
“Do your prepared remarks contain some statistical evidence of these numerous students who are dissatisfied with my teaching? Just how many of them have come to your class looking for a safe harbor?”
Rex glared at Paul and his face tightened with anger. “Even if there were only one, that would stand as an indictment against …”
“In as much as you raise the issue of student discontent, I do have some statistics that might be interesting to this group. They are statistics that have to do with the quality of teaching in the Psychology Department, the ability to hold the minds and attention of students, to ignite them with the passion for learning my colleague has described. I have here the ‘add’ and ‘drop’ totals for your classes in General Psychology, Rex. During the last two semesters better than a third of those students dropped your class during the first week of instruction. Nearly half of your students transferred into my General Psychology classes. The distribution of grades for students in your General Psychology classes forms an abnormal curve showing that a disproportionate number of your students do marginal academic work. It would be interesting to speculate about the meaning of these statistics.
“And while we’re at it, let’s take a look at your teaching performance this semester. While most General Psychology classes are bulging with students trying to fill general course requirements, one of your classes drew so few students and had such poor attendance as to necessitate its cancellation.”
Paul paused letting the weight of his assertion settle. The tension in the meeting had built to such an extent that there was general uneasiness. And now Paul delivered his final blow. “Rex, if you insist on discussing the damaging place of ego in the te
aching profession, I think it’s unwise to use this kind of a meeting to bolster your own sagging self-image. Isn’t that really what’s bothering you?”
Rex had not anticipated this turnabout – icy words from Paul that would thoroughly humiliate him. Rage boiled within him and for a brief moment he lost control. Impulsively picking up one of the large textbooks on the table in front of him he hurled it across the room at Paul. The missile flew past Paul and crashed through one of the windows behind him. None was more shocked at this outburst of uncontrolled emotion than Rex himself and, without further comment, he exited the conference room.
Predictably, Leo came to Rex’s office later in the day on a peace mission. In the ensuing conversation Rex sullenly announced his intention to seek a teaching position elsewhere, insisting that his value to the Psychology Department had been compromised and that his credibility with his peers had been irretrievably lost.
Leo’s response was kind and supportive. “You have one of the finest minds I have encountered in the field,” he said, “and I personally pledge myself to the preserving of your good name among this faculty.” In so saying, he stopped short of promising to reprimand Paul, but did indicate his intention to visit at length with Paul about the unfortunate incident. Then, to Rex’s surprise, Leo made him an offer that did much to assuage his devastated feelings.
“Rex, I’ve been wanting to approach you for some time about the possibility of your co-authoring a book with me. I’ve reviewed your research on learning theory and think you’ve made an exceptional contribution. It’s refreshing to see empirical data drawn from experiments with human subjects as opposed to laboratory animals. You’re familiar with the work I have done with physiology and cognitive development and, well, I just think we could put something together that would have great value. I’d like to propose a series of studies we might undertake together and work towards having a completed manuscript in the not too distant future. I think a work of that nature could be used here as a text for graduate classes. It would fill a great need and I’m sure it would be received well by other departments across the country.”
Though Rex was guarded in his response to Leo’s overture, it was apparent that he was flattered. He would accept the offer! As he left Rex’s office, Leo was confident he had been able to forestall the possibility of losing Rex as a faculty member. Nevertheless, he understood that the chasm separating Paul and Rex would probably never be bridged. His goal was to keep Rex’s bitterness and this ideological divide from undermining department solidarity.
All this was very much on Leo’s mind as he now paid Paul a visit. As always, Paul was oblivious to the administrative burden Leo carried. His assessment of the faculty meeting debacle was highly subjective – he had been the object of an inept colleague’s petty scheming and had merely taken necessary steps to defend himself. When his personal ego was at stake, Paul’s natural tendency was to take the offensive with little regard for the consequences in the lives of those he assailed. He was capable of great compassion and understanding, but these impulses were only free to operate when the threat of confrontation had been removed and when his own position had been sufficiently validated.
Leo understood all of this and smiled as Paul recreated the pathetic picture of Rex’s undoing in the presence of the faculty. But unwilling to lose the point, he returned to the business of ameliorating the damage that had been done. “You know, Paul, you have the ability to crush Rex if that’s really what you want to do.”
Paul reacted with some surprise. “I don’t want to crush him, but I do intend to shut him up. I’m tired of his incessant carping and criticism. He’s a puny man with enormous pride, and I refuse to be the sacrificial lamb for his self-righteousness.”
Leo winked at Paul, “And I suppose you have never been motivated by pride?”
Paul raised his voice. “Leo, the man is inept and is hiding from that fact. I’m simply tired of his never-ending efforts at self-justification. I know you feel sorry for him, but I have little sympathy for spiteful little people who are forever trying to elevate themselves by tearing other people down. When it falls to me to give him a reality check; I’m quite willing to do it.”
“Paul, you have abilities that Rex will never possess. I think he senses that and resents it, but the man does have great strengths in his own right. He has the potential to make a great professional contribution if he can just get past this ‘duel to the death’ with you. For him there is much more at stake than face saving or personal vindication. You have become his enemy and there’s a fair amount of blood lust here.”
“And you want me to ignore all of that and shake hands with him?” There was exasperation in Paul’s words.
“I’d like you to try and diffuse the situation. If you really want to crush him no one can stop you from doing it, and by the time you get through with him he won’t have any confidence left in himself. But if you feel compelled to destroy him you must remember that he has music in him which will never be sung and you will have to bear some responsibility for that. My appeal to you is simply this, be secure enough in your own abilities that you don’t feel the need for another notch on your barrel. You don’t have to do him in. Why not help the man instead of mortally wounding him? You can do that without playing the part of the loser or compromising yourself. Just warm up to him a little bit. Stroke his ego enough to convince him that you think he has some value as an educator. He would respond to that, I know he would.”
The frown on Paul’s face softened somewhat. “You’re really serious about all of this, aren’t you?”
“I am, Paul. Won’t you at least give some serious thought to what I’ve said?”
Paul smiled reluctantly. “Yes, I’ll think about what you have said, but I’d rather write a friendly obituary for him,” he added with mischief in his voice.
Their conversation continued in a lighter vein until Paul changed the subject by picking up a slip of paper on his desk and handing it to Leo. “Do you know anything about this? It was on my desk this afternoon.”
The note was from Maureen and read: “President Michaelson’s secretary called during your meeting. Please return the call as soon as you get a chance!” Leo raised his eyebrows as he read.
“I did as the note directed and called the President’s secretary right after our faculty meeting. He wants to see me. I’ll be meeting with him next Monday morning.”
Leo shook his head as he handed the note back to Paul. “No, I don’t know why the President wants to see you, but I can guess what may be involved.”
“And what’s your guess?”
“Well, I can only presume that it might have something to do with the demonstration in front of the ROTC building. You did read an open letter to the President as you recall, and that letter was published in the Daily Aztec. The incident has caused as much of a stir on this campus as anything I can remember in recent years.”
“And if you’re right?”
“It’s hard to know how President Michaelson might feel towards you. That depends on his perception of the incident and the kind of pressure he’s getting as a result of it.”
Leo spoke candidly about the President’s distaste for controversy and negative publicity. He observed that Michaelson subscribed to the “old school of thought” so far as the academic world was concerned. Dignity, culture, and refinement were inseparably connected in his view of higher education. Leo added that if the President had been invited to Rex Hale’s presentation earlier in the day he would have nodded owlishly throughout and then patted Rex on the back at the conclusion of his presentation with, “Well done, my boy, well done.”
Though Leo respected President Michaelson, he had to acknowledge that the man was a bit too conservative to objectively deal with the issues currently demanding analysis. He undoubtedly hoped that the drumbeat for social activism would die away in time and that the pendulum would swing back in the direction of the traditional views.
Before leaving Paul�
��s office Leo shook his head ruefully and said, “I always miss the fun. I’d like to be a mouse in your pocket Monday morning to hear what the President has to say. Commit the whole dialogue to memory and drop by my office when you can. I’ll be waiting for a full report.”
College Avenue formed the eastern edge of the San Diego State campus. Here, a number of shops lined the street, their garish signs beckoning to student clientele. One of these signs read, “Lorenzo’s Pasta and Pizza.” Inside, the atmosphere was both Italian and Bohemian. The food was quite good and reasonably priced. Paul was the only university professor to frequent Lorenzo’s. Here, classroom formality gave way to warm and familiar conversations with student devotees as they discussed a variety of topics, including the incubation of social change. In this setting Paul was always at his gregarious best, sparkling with verbal mischief as he spoke of the stodgy University Administration, the malevolent San Diego draft board, and the failed federal government. There was typically a mood of levity at Lorenzo’s tables, but also an undertone of caustic malcontent that fed the flame of student dissent. This evening Paul was engaged in an earnest, after dinner conversation with Jerry Warren and his girlfriend, Kristel Wagner.
“We got ‘em,” said Jerry, with a grin that would have been more apparent had it not been for the heavy beard that obscured his face. “Those ROTC puppies didn’t even go to class because of the sit-in. One funny thing happened when the action really got going. One of those guys who was all spiffed up in his uniform nearly threw up when our people came along with their red paint and brushes. They told him the buckets had blood in them.”
Braided Gold Page 8