Room 225 of the Caffco School of Business buzzed as students entered the room. Some eager to learn. Some there just because. Some there because a friend had ask them to sign up for the class. Some there because it was a requirement. The classroom seated 150 students. There were about 115 students already in the room.
The room smelled of cleaning solution, chalk, paper, cologne, and perfume. The room was rich with youthful anticipation, excitement, and hormones. It was a lively room with students talking to each other.
Students were talking to the students they knew from previous classes. They talked about what they did this past summer. They talked about the professor. They talked about the expected class load. They talked about registration.
The classroom was an eclectic compilation of students. There were so many choices to choose from. There was the pretty blond socialite who took the class to be near her boyfriend. There was the average student who needed the class to fulfill his degree requirement. There was the brainiac that took the class to only challenge himself. There was the athlete who wanted to prove to everyone that he was more than just a jock. There were rich men's sons in the room. There were wealthy women's daughters in the room. One could say of the classroom, "red, yellow, black, or white..." they were a precious sight. They were arrayed in every color that lined the color spectrum.
Kourtnee Adams walked into the classroom. She surveyed the room to find a good place to sit. The first couple of rows were free. The walk down to the front of the room was going to be a long one, but she took the walk. She didn't believe in sitting in the back of the room. That was where trouble was. She was glad that she had worn loafers. The steps seemed steep and the walk was long. She reached the second row. She sat in the third chair of the middle section. She took her book, folder, and pencil out of her bag. She placed her bag under the desk. She arranged her supplies on her desk. She sat in her desk waiting for the class to start. All of a sudden she felt lonely. She didn't know anyone in the room. She felt as if she were the only person in the room that didn't have anyone to talk to. She tried to brush the thought from her head, but an evil voice in her head said, "Watch, no one is going to sit on this row with you." She refused to believe the voice.
Paula Brock walked into room 225. She had met two other girls that she had met last semester. They were all taking the class. They were both Management majors, so this class was a requirement for them. Paula wondered if either one of them would eventually be heads of million dollar companies. The three girls talked amongst themselves. When they walked into the room, the three girls parted ways.
Paula looked around the room. To her surprise, she only knew the two girls she had entered the room with. She didn't recognize any other face in the room. She looked around the room to find a seat. A soft voice spoke to her and said, "The middle section, towards the front." She looked in the direction that the voice had told her. She spotted the loneliest looking girl she had ever seen. All Paula actually saw was a head full of long thick black hair. But in her spirit, Paula could feel that the girl was lonely. Paula made her way to the chair next to Kourtnee.
Paula tapped Kourtnee on her shoulder. Kourtnee looked up. Paula responded with her trademark big smile as she said, "Can I get in here?" Kourtnee stood up and moved in between the adjacent desk and let Paula pass by. Paula said, "Thank you," as she sat down. Kourtnee said, "You're welcomed," as she refaced the front of the room.
Paula had expected Kourtnee to say something to her, but she didn't. Paula thought to herself, "This girl is crazy. Why isn't she talking to me?"
Kourtnee felt relieved when Paula sat down next to her. The evil voice in her head was wrong. The girl looked like she wanted to talk to Kourtnee, but Kourtnee didn't feel much like talking. She was content to have someone sitting next to her. A man in a tweed suit with a bow tie on that didn't match the suit in any way walked into the room. "Thank God, I don't have to talk to her," rang our in Kourtnee's mind.
The professor walked into the room through a door on the wall of the front of the room. The students began to settle down and find a seat. He waited a minute or two before he walked to the podium and began talking into the microphone.
"I am Dr. Rothman. This is Business Statistics 101. Please look at your schedule and make sure that you are supposed to be in Caffco Business Building, Room 225," he finished in his high pitched squeaky voice.
Professor Rothman was an older man. He had to be about 5 foot 3. He looked like he was as thin as a rail. He had brown and gray stringy hair. His beard was long and brown. He had a funny looking mustache that wildly covered his top lip. The left side of his mustache was longer than the right side of his mustache.
The people on the first row could smell the after shave that he was wearing. It had a strong smell of spice and musk. He smelled as if he had put some on just before entering the room. He must have purchase the stuff by the bushel because he had put too much of it on before he entered the room.
He continued on with his diatribe, "My teaching assistant will be passing out the syllabus for the class. You are expected to read the syllabus from beginning to end. There are some required supplies for this class that I am sure that you have not purchased. You will need to purchase these items for this class.”
A tall skinny girl began walking up the steps. She stopped at each row and handed the first person on the row a stack of papers. Each stack of paper looked like it contained forty or fifty pages. It took a little over five minutes before everyone had a syllabus. The teaching assistant took a seat in the back of the room.
Professor Rothman’s teaching assistant was scruffy looking. She had on clothing that were out of style for the time period. Her fire red hair was stringy. She looked as if she didn’t eat much. She moved up the stairs quickly, much more quickly than her figure would have said that she could move. She had to be somewhere in her twenties. She was quiet as a mouse, almost stealth like.
Professor Rothman stated, “My syllabus is 42 pages long and you will have to read each page to know what is going on in the class. I am not going to go over the syllabus because as adults, you should be able to read a package of papers and gather some information from the pages. If you have questions, my office hours are in the syllabus, please use them.”
He paused for a moment before continuing, “Class starts at 8:00. I will be in the room by 8:01. You have until 8:06 to be in your seats and ready to learn. Anyone arriving after 8:06 will not be permitted to enter the room. That is my policy, I will not change it.”
He looked at his teaching assistant and said, “This is my teaching assistant, Holly Carmaine. She will be your best friend in this class. IF you have questions, you will need to write the question out on a piece of paper and hand it to her at the end of class. All questions will be answered at the next class. If you do not understand something in the class, Miss Carmaine and my other teaching assistants hold tutorial sessions during the week. Read your syllabus to find out when and where.”
Professor Rothman was talking so quickly, that you could only grasp a word or two of what he was saying. His voice was so high and whiny that you wanted to plug your ears because it felt as if his voice was trying to drill a hole through your ear drums. His voice was trying to make your brain submit to what he was saying. His voice would ultimately win if you wanted to pass Business Statistics 101.
He continued, “This class moves at a brisk pace. That’s why my teaching assistant holds tutorial classes. I am here to impart knowledge to you. It is up to you to grasp the knowledge. I will teach you the methodologies. I expect you to take the methodologies and make them your own. I have my way of doing things. My way may not work for you. That is okay with me, we are all individuals and we must do things the way that they work for ourselves. I will not accept shabby work. All work must be neat and pristine. If it is not, it will not be graded. You are expected to give me your best. You are expecting the best from me. I in turn am expecting the best from you.”
He turned away from the class and grabbed a book on the table behind him. He faced the class and said, “Turn to page five of your book.” Pages rustled as each student turned to the page. After the pages stopped rustling he finished, “Your homework to be turned in for the next class is to read chapter one and answer all the questions at the end of the chapter. You are dismissed. Please use the remainder of the class time to read the syllabus, read the chapter, and complete your homework. You may think the time left is free time, but I am expecting you to go somewhere and work on your class work.”
He grabbed his book and exited through the same door that he had just walked in as students began to hurriedly leave the room.
Paula looked at her watch. It was 8:34. Paula looked at Kourtnee. Kourtnee looked at Paula. Paula said, “Girl, please. That man is crazy.” Kourtnee scowled at Paula as she responded, “I heard he was weird, but I didn’t know he was that weird.” Paula grimaced and asked, “Who conducts the first day of class and it only lasts 30 minutes?” Kourtnee gave Paula a sly look and shrugged. As Paula gathered up her stuff she mumbled, “It’s a good thing I read chapter one last night and did the questions.” Kourtnee thought to herself, “I wish I would have thought to do that.”
Paula and Kourtnee went in opposite directions as they left room 225.
Colt Austin arrived at the Blanchard Science Hall at 8:05. He was 15 minutes late. He was supposed to meet Dr. Robert Davis in his office at 7:50. Colt rushed through the building. He reached Dr. Davis' office.
When Colt walked into Dr. Davis' office, Dr. Davis was looking at his watch. Colt apologized. Dr. Davis grimaced, waved Colt out of his office, walked out of his office, closed the door, and locked the office. Dr. Davis walked towards the classroom.
Dr. Davis was a tall and distinguished gentleman. He had on a black suit, white shirt, and a gray tie. He had on black Stacy Adams. He walked with a proud stride, quickly down the hallway. Dr. Davis had white hair with gray ends.
Dr. Davis and Colt reached the classroom at 8:07. Thankfully, Dr. Davis' office was only a few steps away from the classroom. As Dr. Davis walked in the room, the students began to sit down. The students in the room were the future of Chemistry. They would be the ones who would change science and discover new things.
Dr. Davis began the class by saying, "I am Dr. Robert Davis. Welcome to Chemistry 102, Introduction to Chemistry. Please check your schedule and make sure that you should be in this class at this time." Dr. Davis voice was strong and filled with bass. You could hear the rustle of paper as students checked their schedules.
Dr. Davis turned and looked at Colt. Dr. Davis said, "This is my teaching assistant, Colt Austin. He will be your best friend. He will help you get in contact with me. He will help you find resources to help you with your studies." Dr. Davis turned back towards the class and said, "You all are the future of science. Many of you all will be making history in the future. But right now, you are depending on me to teach you something. That's what I am here to do. Teach you."
Dr. Davis paused for a moment and looked each student in the eye. The look down took a couple of minutes. Dr. Davis continued his speech, "I cannot learn for you, you have to learn for yourself. It is up to you to study, learn, and then study some more. It's up to you. I can help you. Colt can help you. You have to do the work. I will be evaluating what and how you are learning. If you have trouble, please set-up an appointment to talk to me. Contact Colt to find out what resources you have available to you."
Dr. Davis looked at Colt quickly before he continued, "I want you to pass my class with at least a B average. I do not relish in the idea of how many students I can fail. I feel that I am doing science an injustice by failing promising students. As long as you make an effort, I will help you as best I can. Colt has committed to helping you as best he can."
Dr. Davis appeared to care about the students. He seemed to care about the impact that they would have on the world. Higher education needed more professors like Dr. Davis. Colt had his share of professors who tried to flunk students. He had even upset one professor at Berkshire University by joining the number of students who had made an "A" in his class. Colt promised himself that he would do better at getting to class on time. Colt's thoughts were interrupted as Dr. Davis said, "Colt will be passing out the syllabus." Colt stood up and began passing on the syllabus to the 30 students sitting in the room. After Colt finished, Dr. Davis said, "You have the privilege of using as your textbook a book co-author by me and a colleague of mine." Colt clapped his hands quietly. Dr. Davis looked at Colt and smiled. He faced the class and said, "You all must not have heard me when I said Colt was your best friend, which means, whatever your best friend does, and you should do. Let's try this again." Dr. Davis cleared his throat as he forcefully said, "You have the privilege of using as your textbook a book co-author by myself and a colleague of mine." Again, Colt clapped his hands quietly. The class followed suit and clapped their hands. Colt laughed. Dr. Davis laughed. The students laughed.
The class continued on with a lecture that went pretty much in the same vain as the briefing had. At one point, the class was paying so much attention to Colt that Dr. Davis said, "I am feeling a bit left out. More of you are looking at Colt than at me." The whole class burst out laughing. Dr. Davis laughed as he said, "Ok, let's get back to science." Colt liked Dr. Davis. This was going to be a fun adventure.
Dr. Davis and Colt returned to Dr. Davis’ office. Dr. Davis walked in the office after unlocking the door. He asked Colt to have a seat.
After both he and Colt were seated, Dr. Davis asked, “What do you think of my teaching methods?” Colt responded, “It was good. You made me and the other students feel as if we were important.” Dr. Davis responded, “That was my intent. You all are what is in store for the future of science. If I make you feel scared or apprehensive because of my style and delivery, then a great discovery may go unfound because of fright. I can’t have that happening. It only takes one professor to inspire greatness. I want to be that professor for as many students as I can possibly be. I want to be thanked in speeches and honored so that people will buy my books.” Colt laughed. Dr. Davis laughed with Colt as he said, “At least you have a sense of humor. I try to teach my students to have a sense of humor. It’s okay to laugh. But, it’s not okay to be late. I can’t stand for anyone to be late. You are going to have to be on time.” Colt smiled sheepishly as he said, “Yes sir, I will be on time from now on.” Dr. Davis said, “Ok. Meet me here at 9:50 for the next class we have.” Colt said, “I will,” as he stood up. Colt left Dr. Davis’ office after he grabbed his stuff.
Kourtnee arrived at the Henry Moore Gym. She was still in her street clothes because she didn't know if they were going to work in her aerobics class or not. She found room 12. There were about 10 other women in the room already. Several of them had on work out clothes. The others had on street clothes. There were two guys in the room.
Amy Coltree walked into the room. At least the students surmised that she was Amy. She had on a loud pink pair over leotards and a loud pink and blue jumper. She had on blue socks and pink tennis shoes to match her outfit. She was carrying a pink and blue bag over her shoulder. She bounced into the room all cheery and said, "Well, you all have made it, I see," in a high pitched nasal voice. She was thin, tall, and fit. She had a long blond ponytail that reach just above her small, shapely rear end. She smiled and said, "This is PE 105, Aerobics. I hope you are supposed to be here. There is a textbook for the class, but we won't use it. There should have been a journal near the textbook that we will use. Your grade will come from that book. Well, I hope you brought your work out clothes, because I am ready to begin." She did a cheerleader styled move as most of the students growled. She giggled and said, "I'm only kidding. Let's get to know each other. Ok, everyone find a seat on a mat."
She walked to the front of the room as they all sat down on the mat nearest them. After Amy got seated Indian style she said, "My name is Amy as I stated before. You all may call me Amy. I am here to whip you all into shape. Joking." She paused and waited for laughter. All she got was a couple of smiles. She continued, "I figured I would get at least one laugh, oh well. We will go around the room and get everyone's name." She pointed to a pleasantly plumb young lady and said, "Let's begin with you."
"Denise Orrick," the pleasantly plumb girl said.
"Gina Davies," a skinny girl with dark brown eyes said.
Guy number one said, "Oscar Ortez," with a chicken in the henhouse grin.
"Kourtnee Adams," Kourtnee stated.
"Edwina Stevenson," a light brown young lady with light brown eyes and brown hair said.
The deep-voiced, well-built other guy said, "Bobby Cramer." His teeth sparkled next to his dark skin.
Anette Jamison, Patricia Paisley, Jill McGahan, Carrie Jonston, Chris Moore, Shellie Denton, Shanquill Hoom finished out the group.
Amy talked about aerobics and the effectiveness of aerobics. She droned on and on. Kourtnee studied each member of the class. She wondered what kind of friend each one of these people would be. The obvious choice would be Shanquill Hoom and Edwina Stevenson because they were of the same descent as Kourtnee. Kourtnee ruled Shanquill out because as Amy was talking Shanquill had an attitudinal twist to her lips as if she was ready to tell Amy off. Kourtnee surmised that she would be too confrontational. Edwina did not seem that interesting. Kourtnee studied the other female students, ruling each one out systematically. The guys weren't even in the running because they were probably in the class to pick up girls anyway.
Amy finally called the class to an end by saying, "Well, on Wednesday, come dressed to work out. Don't forget to bring those journals. I will tell you what they will be used for on Wednesday. Have a good day." Everyone grabbed their stuff as they stood up. The students exited the door quickly, going on their way.
Paula walked into room 116 of the Kathy Caffco Building. This was the building where the secretarial classes where held. Caffco University was a college that was started for secretaries to better their skills, it would only stand to reason that there would be a place dedicated totally to that effort.
The Kathy Caffco Building was the most historic building on the campus. It was the original building used for the college. It had been modernized to accommodate the changing times.
The classroom had 15 desks in it. At each desk, there were the oldest looking typewriters in the history of typewriters. These fifteen typewriters had to have been manufactured in the early 1940s.
Paula had taken Typing 101 and Typing 105 last year. She had aced both classes. She could type 135 WPM with an accuracy rating of 95%. That was the fastest time in the school’s history. The second best was 130, which was set in 1980. Paula had received a plaque for her efforts. She had competed in the city-wide typing contest. She placed 6th in the typing competition. She placed 8th in the accuracy category. Needless to say, her professors were proud of her.
She could have tested out of Typing 202, but she chose not to because she wanted to better herself through learning. Paula didn’t like skipping steps. She was meticulous like that.
Mrs. Denise Adkins was the professor for Typing 202. Mrs. Adkins had a reputation for being a mean woman and a hard teacher. It was often said that she was so mean because she ate lemons as snacks, no one really knew because Mrs. Adkins never gave anyone a chance to get to know her.
Oddly enough, the people in the class were already seated when Mrs. Adkins walked in the room. Mrs. Adkins looked as if she were 45 years old. She was much older than that, from what had been said about her. Her eyes glared at each student from in her sockets that sunk into her deep dark black skin. Her tilted wig looked like a bouffant hairdo from the 1960s and a bad bouffant at that. Her horn rimmed glasses sat on the edge of her long nose. The rusted chain that they hung on dangled down the front of her dress. She had to be wearing a dress that she had kept from the sixties. The dark orange, brown, and green polyester dress did not flatter her in anyway. She really needed to take it off and put something else on.
Mrs. Adkins said in a shrill nasal voice, “I am assuming that you all should be in this class. If you shouldn’t be, you should quickly gather your things and leave. Hopefully, you brought your supplies because you will begin working today.” Some of the students gasped. Mrs. Adkins smiling a witchly smile as if torturing the students gave her some kind of perverse gratification.
She continued, “I am here to help you improve your typing skills. If you have no real desire to be better typists, then you need to leave my classroom. I am not in the business of accepting excuses for why your assignments are not done. It is not listed in the class listings, but for this class, you will be required to attend an extra session for an hour one day out of the week.” This earned groans from most of the students. That seemed to agitate Mrs. Adkins as she declared, “I take this class seriously. This class is as important as a Math class in my eyes! The extra sessions are given on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. The majority of your grades will come from these sessions. There are 2 sessions each day; one at 7:00 AM and at 5:00 PM. If these sessions do not fit your schedule, you will have to make arrangements to make-up the sessions with me individually. Anyone who has had my class before will tell you that you do not want to do that.”
Mrs. Adkins paused for a moment to sear at a couple of the students before she continued, “Let’s begin. Please demonstrate the correct posture for typing.” She waited as each student adjusted themselves with what they considered to be the correct posture. Mrs. Adkins walked by each student and adjusting what needed to be adjusted in their posture. Paula thought that she had the correct posture, but when Mrs. Adkins got to her, she touched Paula’s back so that it was straighter. Paula rolled her eyes as Mrs. Adkins passed her. Mrs. Adkins turned and glowered at Paula as if she had seen Paula roll her eyes. Paula quickly stared at the ground.
Mrs. Adkins returned to the front of the room. She retorted, “I am sure that some of you have thought something negative about the typewriters. I like to use these types of typewriters because, if you can type quickly and accurately with these, you will be able to type better on the newer models of typewriters. These will only be used in this room for instructional purposes. The ones you use for your assignments are from this century.” She paused and waited for someone to laugh. Paula and a subtle looking young lady were the only people to laugh. Mrs. Adkins remarked, “At least two of you all knew that I just told a joke. No matter, please take out a piece of typing paper,” as she passed out a sheet of paper to each student. She said, “This is a quiz. Please follow the instructions on the page exactly.” After she had handed the last student the sheet of paper, Mrs. Adkins walked to the front of the room, picked up an egg timer, turned it on and said, “Okay you may begin. You have ten minutes to complete the assignment.”
Paula looked at the sheet of paper. It was a typing test. There was a list of instructions. Paula typed her name on the top of the page as she was instructed. She then typed what the paper said to type. As fast as she typed, her assignment was completed quickly. The paper said to remove the sheet of paper from the typewriter and take it up to Mrs. Adkins and then leave the classroom. Paula did as the paper instructed her.
Paula handed her quiz to Mrs. Adkins. Mrs. Adkins took the sheet of paper, glared at Paula and whispered, “Just because you are a star around here, it will not get you any special treatment from me. I am expecting more from you than any other student. Don’t let me down.” Paula smiled at her and quietly replied, “You don’t have to worry. I have heard that you have never given any student a compliment, I am intending to be the first student that you give one to.” Mrs. Adkins smiled back and whispered, “You are going to have to do a whole lot to make that happen. You may leave.” Paula gave Mrs. Adkins her trade mark full teeth smile and walked out of room 116 with a confident stride that made several students stop typing and watch her exit.
