Page 75
Story: Campus Daddies
32
SOFIA
I’ve been holed up in my parents’ house for the last few days, working hard on my plan. I’ve texted the men not to worry. I’m not avoiding them. I just need to get this done before my meeting with the board this afternoon.
It’s nearly done, too.
I bring it downstairs for Mom and Dad to watch. Dad and I have talked in depth but not in detail about what’s been going on. He’s not upset with me, understanding my reluctance to tell him. But he’s not been so forgiving with Brax. At least, not yet.
I think this will change his mind.
Even though I’ve cried so many times in the process of editing this, scouring the footage from all of my cameras, from the ever-growing hours of time I’ve spent with Brax. With Orion. With Cedric.
It’s made not seeing them harder, but it also confirms what I knew this whole time.
This is different.
Mom and Dad are both crying by the end of it, and I know I’ve done my job well.
The editing isn’t as perfect as I could make it, but the storytelling is there.
I publish it everywhere I’m able. If I’m going to be outed as publicly as I was, I’m going to make a bigger splash to drown them out. You can count on that.
Dressed as professionally as I can manage, I march myself to the board to face the music.
“Miss Newman,” the College of Fine Arts and Design dean greets me. We’ve had a few long email exchanges over the last two days, giving him the best initial account of what happened from my point of view. I haven’t given him much else, though. “I hope you don’t mind, but I feel inclined to skip the pleasantries and get right down to our inquiries.”
I nod. “I think that would be best. Yes.”
“Good. Then, I will begin. Did any of these professors influence your grades or academic standing in any way?”
“No. I’ve put in the work for everything I’ve earned. I never asked for, nor have I received any special treatment.”
“Are you certain that is entirely true? Dr. Barlowe certainly doesn’t have any hold over you at the university, but Professor Knight is your club sponsor, and Professor Trevino is your thesis advisor.”
“I gain nothing by having Professor Knight—or any professor, for that matter—as my club sponsor. I was elected as the club’s president before he arrived, and he’s certainly caused me more trouble in that regard than he’s provided help.” Like the blowup with Leann’s jealousy. “Besides, he does not control my grades. He doesn’t give me access to anything I didn’t already have access to. Other than the fact that he is a professor in the Film Department, which is the department I am earning my degree from, there is nothing for our connection to interfere with.”
Each of the men and women on the board watch me carefully.
The dean taps his steepled hands against his mouth. “And Professor Trevino?”
“Yes. He is my thesis advisor. And as I’m sure you know, he’s a hard ass—excuse my language. That’s why I asked him to advise me. I want to be pushed. I don’t want to make things easier on myself. Easy doesn’t help me grow.”
I can see their thoughts working through this, contemplative. He’s their biggest issue. He does have some control over my grade, but it’s still not as much as they think it is.
“I have a rather easy solution to this singular ethical dilemma.”
Another professor chimes in, “I don’t believe the dilemma is singular.”
“It is. He’s the only one with any sway over my grades, but as you all know, my project is graded in a pass or fail capacity. Therefore, the proposed special treatment you’re suggesting is minimal. Whereas I cannot speak for Professor Trevino, I am confident that he would have given my project a passing grade. As I said, I chose him for the simple reason that he would not just pass me for going through the motions. I wanted to learn from him.”
“You speak as though he is no longer in control of your grade,” the man on the end says.
“I assume that to be the case.” I fold my hands in front of me and wait to be corrected.
“Well, that is what we are here to decide. Isn’t it?”
Now my hands fall to my hips without conscious thought. “It would be piss-poor management on your part if that wasn’t already decided before I stepped through that door. No, what you’re here to decide is how much damage control needs to be done. Whereas, I’ve maintained a relationship with three facultymembers while being a student—a fully adult, single mother, mind you—you want to be sure that the blatant disregard for my safety and the violation of my privacy are outweighed by what I’ve done.”
SOFIA
I’ve been holed up in my parents’ house for the last few days, working hard on my plan. I’ve texted the men not to worry. I’m not avoiding them. I just need to get this done before my meeting with the board this afternoon.
It’s nearly done, too.
I bring it downstairs for Mom and Dad to watch. Dad and I have talked in depth but not in detail about what’s been going on. He’s not upset with me, understanding my reluctance to tell him. But he’s not been so forgiving with Brax. At least, not yet.
I think this will change his mind.
Even though I’ve cried so many times in the process of editing this, scouring the footage from all of my cameras, from the ever-growing hours of time I’ve spent with Brax. With Orion. With Cedric.
It’s made not seeing them harder, but it also confirms what I knew this whole time.
This is different.
Mom and Dad are both crying by the end of it, and I know I’ve done my job well.
The editing isn’t as perfect as I could make it, but the storytelling is there.
I publish it everywhere I’m able. If I’m going to be outed as publicly as I was, I’m going to make a bigger splash to drown them out. You can count on that.
Dressed as professionally as I can manage, I march myself to the board to face the music.
“Miss Newman,” the College of Fine Arts and Design dean greets me. We’ve had a few long email exchanges over the last two days, giving him the best initial account of what happened from my point of view. I haven’t given him much else, though. “I hope you don’t mind, but I feel inclined to skip the pleasantries and get right down to our inquiries.”
I nod. “I think that would be best. Yes.”
“Good. Then, I will begin. Did any of these professors influence your grades or academic standing in any way?”
“No. I’ve put in the work for everything I’ve earned. I never asked for, nor have I received any special treatment.”
“Are you certain that is entirely true? Dr. Barlowe certainly doesn’t have any hold over you at the university, but Professor Knight is your club sponsor, and Professor Trevino is your thesis advisor.”
“I gain nothing by having Professor Knight—or any professor, for that matter—as my club sponsor. I was elected as the club’s president before he arrived, and he’s certainly caused me more trouble in that regard than he’s provided help.” Like the blowup with Leann’s jealousy. “Besides, he does not control my grades. He doesn’t give me access to anything I didn’t already have access to. Other than the fact that he is a professor in the Film Department, which is the department I am earning my degree from, there is nothing for our connection to interfere with.”
Each of the men and women on the board watch me carefully.
The dean taps his steepled hands against his mouth. “And Professor Trevino?”
“Yes. He is my thesis advisor. And as I’m sure you know, he’s a hard ass—excuse my language. That’s why I asked him to advise me. I want to be pushed. I don’t want to make things easier on myself. Easy doesn’t help me grow.”
I can see their thoughts working through this, contemplative. He’s their biggest issue. He does have some control over my grade, but it’s still not as much as they think it is.
“I have a rather easy solution to this singular ethical dilemma.”
Another professor chimes in, “I don’t believe the dilemma is singular.”
“It is. He’s the only one with any sway over my grades, but as you all know, my project is graded in a pass or fail capacity. Therefore, the proposed special treatment you’re suggesting is minimal. Whereas I cannot speak for Professor Trevino, I am confident that he would have given my project a passing grade. As I said, I chose him for the simple reason that he would not just pass me for going through the motions. I wanted to learn from him.”
“You speak as though he is no longer in control of your grade,” the man on the end says.
“I assume that to be the case.” I fold my hands in front of me and wait to be corrected.
“Well, that is what we are here to decide. Isn’t it?”
Now my hands fall to my hips without conscious thought. “It would be piss-poor management on your part if that wasn’t already decided before I stepped through that door. No, what you’re here to decide is how much damage control needs to be done. Whereas, I’ve maintained a relationship with three facultymembers while being a student—a fully adult, single mother, mind you—you want to be sure that the blatant disregard for my safety and the violation of my privacy are outweighed by what I’ve done.”
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