Identity

By John M. Artz

Chapter 1: Inauspicious Beginnings

I pointed to the sign on my wall that said, "This is NOT Burger King. You DON'T get it your way." It was heavy handed, and a little dated, but I needed to make a point. I don't mind accommodating special circumstances for students, but I draw the line somewhere between catering and pandering. The student I was addressing was a young woman named Sherry Johnson. Normally, I don't pick up names that quickly but she had sent me several email messages in the last week and left at least three voice messages on my answering machine. Sherry, which was short for Scheherazade, was a second generation American of Middle Eastern heritage. Other than her name and her classic Arabian good looks, you couldn't distinguish her from any other yuppie consultant within the Washington, D.C. beltway. She was wearing a conservative navy blue pin striped gabardine skirt suit with Reeboks and carrying an overstuffed leather satchel that contained a laptop computer, a bottle of spring water, and an assortment of file folders with yellow Post It notes sticking out every which way. Apparently her husband was an American because I didn't think that Johnson was a traditional Arabian name. She was in her mid twenties and had apparently been working for a local consulting firm for several years because she had picked up that arrogance that comes with blue suits, faux expertise and expense accounts. Sherry had adjusted well to life as a consultant and felt that getting her way was just a matter of persistence. Her better qualities - lovely eyes, smart figure and residual innocence - were almost hidden by her brusque and demanding manner. I imagined her in harem garb with a veil thinly covering her lower face and her dark eyes peering through the gap in a daring stare. Then I thought about her schlepping that briefcase, hailing cabs, sitting in endless meetings and filling out expense reports. What a waste. But life is what it is.
Sherry wanted to take one of my classes this fall but was concerned that she might not be able to make it to class because her job often demanded long hours. She thought that a reasonable solution would be for her to take the course entirely through email. I told her that it was out of the question. But, the problem was that the request was so preposterous that I didn't have a ready answer to back up my refusal. She persisted, in the mildly condescending consultant way, which implied that I might not be up with the latest things. I pointed out that much was to be gained by physically being in the class where she could hear the lectures first hand and participate in questions, discussion, and group project meetings. But alas, she was determined to not acknowledge any of my points and I deferred to the sign on the wall.
"There is another alternative" I offered. " Professor Haggerty is teaching the same class at eight o'clock on Wednesdays. It's late, but you should be able to make that."
"But I wanted to take the class with you. Everyone says that you're the best."
The best, I thought, the front lines of database but way behind the curve on modern educational techniques, like email.
"I am flattered. But I assure you, the students just love Professor Haggerty. He is new and gets along very well with students."
"But I really wanted to take the class with you."
We weren't making any progress and I did not want to get into all of the inconsistencies in her reasoning. "Well, then. You'll have to make a few decisions about your priorities."
She looked perplexed but accepted the verdict and left. No doubt she thought I had won. I certainly didn't feel that way.

Click for Explanation

The character of Sherry Johnson is based on Marah Al Eidy

The character of Frank Haggerty is based on Professor Patrick McHugh

Student grovelling

More grovelling

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