Student Body - Taking One for the Team (2 page)

Last I must apologize for bringing this problem to you, but my love for this institution goes far beyond my fear of failure. I need your assistance and together I know we can get this young man back on the track of success that is the tradition of this university.

With respect,

Kelly Shaw

Professor English Literature

She sent the message with a smile on her face. If this worked she would show this smart ass young kid who was the boss. If she couldn’t fail him, she could teach him some humility and have fun of her own. As she sat in her office day dreaming about what she would do to him, the message bell rang on her computer. She had received an email response from the Dean.

Professor Shaw,

I can’t tell how much I appreciate your concern for our student athletes. Your message is well received and I agree completely with your cry for help. As educators it is our responsibility to look out for the future of these young people as well as the legacy they leave within the walls of this institution.

I have placed calls to both the coach and the A.D. asking for their immediate assistance with regard to Mr. Wells. It would be a travesty to allow an All-American athlete and valuable scholarship recruit to throw away his future. There is no question that they will fully assist you.

Last, I want to thank you for getting in front of this issue before it impacted the team. Your forward looking attitude is exactly what we need combined with your refusal to tolerate mediocrity or failure. You are a credit to your department and I will make certain to inform your department head of your dedication.

With the full gratitude of the university,

Dean Copeland

Kelly clapped her hands and spun in her chair. The message worked exactly as she intended
. By the following morning she had received similar messaged from the coach and the Athletic Director. They were all in full support of any and all measure that she was willing to put in place to ensure the success of their student athletes. The following weekend she had this star recruit for the basketball team reporting to her home for ‘Special Education’.

Duncan Wells was her first venture into the world of discipline and domination. The basketball team won the conference title that year and faired very well in the NCAA Tournament. The coaching staff credited Professor Shaw for taking the lead in turning the team around. The head coach approached her after one victory and said, “I don’t know what you did, but Duncan’s like a different kid. Please keep it up, whatever it is,
it’s working!”

Every sports season from that year on, Kelly had looked for a wayward student athlete to offer her special services. The coaching staff loved her commitment and she was recognized as one of the most dedicated educators in recent school history. Little did they know she was giving these young men more than just a scholastic education.

Four years had passed since the re-education of Mr. Duncan Wells. He did not graduate but chose to leave after his sophomore year. He was picked in the first round of the NBA draft and is the starting point guard for his team. Even Duncan claimed that his sessions with Professor Shaw had changed his life. Kelly was more than happy to share the experience with other that she thought needed a little lesson.

Now she was faced with another such student, a young man who thought that classes were for the students less physically gifted than himself. According to his student record, he had suffered from the same attitude during his years in high school. His grade point average was only acceptable because he could catch a football. He acted self-important and contemptuous around the other students. Kelly received reports of his lack of attention or attendance in other classes. She recognized him immediately as the target for her private counseling for the new sports season.

By mid semester Mr. Adam Carlson had a death grip on a failing grade in her class. Even if he attended every class to the end of the session and passed each exam with an A, it was likely that he would not pass her mandatory course, thereby losing his scholarship. She had him right where she wanted him. And she was not surprised to find him knocking at the door to her office one afternoon.

“What can I do for you Mr. Carlson?” she asked after he was seated.

“I need to pass your course or they’ll bench me for academic ineligibility.” He said. There was no remorse in his voice just a simple statement of entitlement.

“Yes, I’m aware of that. What can I do for you?” She responded just as coldly.

Slumped disrespectfully in the chair he stared at the professor. “What do I need to do to pass the class?”

Without hesitation she said, “Attend class, do the assignments and turn in the work.”

He huffed, “Look, I know that you have a thing for helping out the varsity teams.”

“Is that so”, she said shuffling papers on her desk.

“Everybody knows it. They say since you been here that you’ve helped a bunch a guys get through without going to class.” He smirked as if he had a piece of knowledge that she didn’t.

“Is that what they say?” She shot back.

“Yeah, even the coach’s talk about how you been working with guys like Jarvis Edwards, Eddie James, Darrel Mitchell and even Duncan Wells, all gone pro and they all got through your classes. Why can’t I get the same, you know, special treatment?” He smiled, completely full of himself.

“You just answered your own question.” She stared back blankly

“What are you talking about? I have to pass this class and I have to be on the field every Saturday. Why you being so hard?” He was obviously angry and his attempts at acting like a thug were comical.

“I’m not being hard, Mr. Carlson. It’s just that you have no idea of what you’re talking about.” It was her turn to be smug.

“If that’s true then what are all the coaches talking about? Why’s everybody saying you can help me with my grade?” He was confused and upset.

“What they are telling you is correct. I have assisted all of those young men with theory studies and hopefully their careers. And not just them, many other
s as well. I believe the question you’re looking for is about you rather than them.” She sat quite waiting for something to sink into his thick skull.

“So if you helped all them other dudes, why you
gotta give me issues, yo?” his conversational English turned worse with his growing anger.

She reached her breaking point with
him. He was a privileged, upper-middle-class, white kid from Connecticut and she’d had enough with the thug act. “I helped those other young men because I saw something in them worth helping. I saw promise in them and I’d like to think they were rewarded in working with me. Make no mistake, Mr. Carlson, they did the work even though I was somewhat lenient with regard to their attendance during normal school hours.”

Something seemed to set in and he straightened slightly in the chair. “It’s like this, I need to pass your class to keep my scholarship. I know you helped those other guys out and I’m asking you to help me out. I can’t lose my ride, you feel me? Why won’t you help me like you did those other guys?”

Looking straight into his eyes she said, “Because I find you to be a worthless waste of my time. If you want honesty, there you go. You come in here demanding that I give you a grade you didn’t earn and I see that as repugnant. I’ve read your admissions file, you’re from a good family from Connecticut not the inner city of some broken down area of Detroit. You appear to me as if this university owes you something because you can catch a football, in stride. Because you can run a forty in 4.30 seconds. Because you set the state record for receptions in high school. Because you had only two turn-over’s your entire high school career.” She stopped watching his face.

He was surprised by her knowledge of him and the game. She went on, “Surprised? Yes, I know the game very well. You’re the second quickest receiver in the history of this institution, you’re yards after contact are below average because you need some more upper body strength. You have everything needed to go pro with the exception of the proper attitude and some humility. If the team doesn’t like you they won’t throw you the ball no matter how good you think you are.
The only talent you have right now is speed enough to get benched because you’re an ignorant piece of crap that won’t attend class, nothing more.”

She paused a moment for affect, “You bore me, Mr. Carlson and I hate to be bored. It’s only because I hold the coaching staff in such high regard that I will try another time. Now with all that said, let’s try this again and don’t bore me. What can I do for you Mr. Carlson?”

She could see the effect she was having on him. He was visibly shaken and the act began to wash away. He sat straighter in the chair and started over again. “I’m sorry Professor Shaw. I get caught up in the hype sometimes, I meant no disrespect. I need your help and I am hoping that there is some sort of extra tutoring that will get me through this. I’ll do anything you ask if I can get through your class with a passing grade.”

Kelly sat behind the desk impassively. She made no attempt to engage him. The silence made him more nervous than he was. Tears began to well up in his eyes he said in a quiet voice, “Please Professor Shaw, I need this. If I lose my ride, my dad will kill me. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it, no questions.” He wiped away a single tear.

“Who told you about my private lessons?” She demanded.

“
Coach Norris. He gets reports on everybody’s grades. He called me into the office yesterday and told me I better get my ass in gear or he’d be forced to bench me. He was the one who said you really helped those other guys. He said everybody thought they were going to lose Eddie James but then you stepped in and turned him around. Coach says if it wasn’t for you they would have lost him and the Rose Bowl that year. He says you saved them both.” He was on the edge of breaking down. “Can you help me too? I promise I’ll do anything.”

She had him almost the point she needed him to be. There was something worth taking a look into and she wanted to break this smart assed punk. “The lessons are called ‘Private’ because that’s just what they are. No one ever discusses what goes on during them because every student is different and needs to be developed individually.
That’s rule number one, if I take you on there will be nothing revealed about your sessions. Breaking this rule is an automatic failure. You will be on time for every appointment and you will do everything that is asked of you. Can you accept these terms, Mr. Carlson?”

“
Yes, ma’am, I will I promise”, he said cheering a bit.

“These private lessons are not going to be easy but I think you will find them valuable.” She quickly penned some things on a note pad and ripped the sheet free. Handing it to Adam Carlson she said, “Here is my home address. Do not share it with anyone else. We can continue this conversation Friday morning at 10:00.”

He jumped up and took the note. “Thank you Professor Shaw. You won’t be sorry, I promise.”

Opening the door she welcomed Adam into her home. He
had returned to the cocky little bastard, the new stud receiver on the football team. The coaches raved about his speed and quickness. She would see about that and give him an opportunity to become a bit more humble at the same time.

“Come in and have a seat.
First, let me make sure that we understand each other. You stated in my office that you would be willing to do anything to get a passing grade in my class. Is that correct?” She waited.

“Yes ma’am, anything.” He pleaded, “If I don’t pass your class I’ll lose my scholarship. If that happens my dad will kill me. Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it
, that’s why I’m here.”

              She smiled as she studied him. He had lost some of his cockiness.
There may be hope for this one yet
, she thought
.
“Fine, just do as I say and we’ll get that grade to a passing standard. I see you’ve brought your books, set them on the table and strip down to your underwear.”

Stunned, Adam’s mouth fell open, “Excuse me?” he stammered.

“You heard me you arrogant little shit, put the books on the table and strip down to your shorts”, she demanded. Her face remained placid; there was no hint of humor.

Still in shock he began to protest, “But I thought we were going to study. I’m not sure…”

The professor interrupted, “You have an easy choice to make here, Mr. Carlson, do as I say and possibly get a passing grade or argue with me; in which case I will certainly fail your miserable little ass. The choice is yours, strip or get out. I’m a busy woman and I have no time for your indecision.”

Slowly, as if in a trance, the young man stood and placed his text books on the table. He turned to face his professor and began to undress.
It was only when he was standing in his boxer shorts that she moved. He could see a long, thin, black, leather object in her hand. He had no idea where it came from but it made him uneasy. She could sense his nervousness and she liked him being uncomfortable. She circled him appraising his athletic body.

“Well done. As you can see, we will be concentrating on a different type of lesson when you are here. You will not speak to anyone about these ‘sessions’, you will be on
time, you will do as you are told, and most importantly, you will be respectful. Do you understand?” she waited behind him for the answer.