I knew I was doing something right when a University big-wig asked to meet one-on-one.
Problem was, I had no idea what good deed I had done…
“The Dean of Engineering would like to personally meet with you.”
It was a voicemail from the Dean’s secretary, and I was pretty sure this message was a bearer of good news.
I couldn’t help but wonder what I had done already that would have made me stick out in the mind of the guy who basically ran Kansas State’s entire Engineering program. I was merely a sophomore in college–in the thick of my third semester to be exact–and I had only taken ~1-1/2 classes in the actual Engineering Department.
But, yeah, a glaring dearth of evidence aside, I would say that I was no stranger to being recognized for my bright mind and plucky personality. My proverbial belt was notched with countless scholarships and other such trappings of a high-achieving academic such as myself. A plethora of articles in the local SW Kansan newspapers had been written about me during my high school years. And once at college, I quickly made a name for myself based on, uh…my “drinking” ability. Oh, and of course there was what I was probably most well-known for: my hair.
Yeah, it most definitely had to be the hair. By that point in time I had been rocking bright blue on the left side, neon pink on the right, and purple up top with a classic ‘Jesus fish'1Also know as the ‘Ichthus fish’, which is actually kinda redundant, since ‘ichthus’ just means ‘fish’ in ancient Greek. So it’s a fish-fish, I guess? in green running from front to back on the peak of my dome.
Ya know, the kind of hair that screams to upper administrators, “This kid is really going to go places in the field of mechanical engineering–you better ingratiate yourself to him and hitch your wagon to his star while you can!”
The more I thought about it, the clearer it become that of course the Dean of Engineering wants to see me–who wouldn’t want to rub shoulders with one of the coolest cats on campus?
I just hoped he didn’t get greedy and ask for my autograph or anything…
“On as scale of one to ten…” the Dean paused for dramatic effect, “how would you rate the job you did as an Engineering Mentor?”
The Dean had been so eager to meet me that he had actually stepped out of an important departmental meeting…to ask me that?
I had almost totally forgotten about that, though I had completed my duties as a Mentor only a few weeks earlier. Concordantly, I had to refresh myself on that experience, and I might as well bring you, Dear Reader, along for the ride.
The Engineering Mentorship program recruited rising-star Sophomores such as yours truly to meet with incoming Freshmen/women Engineering majors for a couple evenings early in their first semester on campus. These somewhat informal meetings gave us the chance to show the them the ropes and help prepare them for the 5-6 years ahead of them. At least that was the ‘official’ purpose of the program. But all us Mentors knew that it was really just a chance for us to show off to these youngsters how cool and hip we were, and to really let our flaming personalities shine (did I mention my awesome hair already?).
For example, on my résumé–my first chance to impress upon their malleable minds how absolutely ----- cool I was–I put something along the lines of ‘1998 Morton County Speling Be Champ-ye-uhn’. Now, I didn’t really win any local spelling bee two years earlier, but I looked super-cool claiming to have done so while simultaneously misspelling almost every word in the title. Pretty clever, huh?
And then there were other real accolades that I truly did earn…ya know, like Twinkie-But-Actually-Swiss-Cake-Rolls-Because-I-Shit-You-Not-There-Was-For-Realz-A-Twinkie-Shortage-That-Year Eating Champion.
Real classy stuff, I tell ya.
And let’s not forget the fact that I was desperately seeking their approval and validation–oh, sh*t, wait…did I just say that out loud?–and so really tried my best to be a ‘cool’ teacher. Like the ones in high school whose class every student so desperately hoped to land in: the ones that mingled with us little people, always began class with a short stand-up routine, graded super-easy, and would let just about anything slide. The kind that would never send a kid to the principal’s office, no matter the offense, and would instead high-five the offender for having the courage to ‘stick it to the Man’.
So, given all that, let me think…did I totally kick ass as an Engineering Mentor, the likes of which had never been seen before or since?
Indubitably. (Though being I’ve one to toot their own horn was never in my nature…)
“Hmm…good question. I would say maybe a solid five or a six, perhaps?”
Like I said, I was the type of guy/mentor/teacher that knew he was cool and never felt the need to brag about it.
“Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahh! Just let me stop you there, Arthur Fonzarelli. Try ‘one’ or ‘two’. In fact, I would probably give you a negative rating if I could, but I’m being nice and respecting the 1-to-10 range that I set forth to begin with.”
Needless to say, the Dean was sorely displeased with me, and in fact, was not meeting me to tell me how rad my hair was.
“Oh,” was about all I could quietly muster, as I realized that I had just walked into the trap he had so carefully set for me. Dammit, I should have known that whole ‘rate yourself’ was a trick question.
“So it turns out,” the Dean continued, “that one of your students came to my secretary trying to figure out where to turn in the work you had allegedly assigned him. Well, what we found mighty odd is that you had officially recorded this guy as having faithfully turned in every last one of his assignments. Yet, in a written affidavit, he swears that you never asked any of them to turn anything in.”
“Oh. We were serious when we gave them that work? Really?” I eeked out.
“YES WE WERE SERIOUS. Why, you realize that what you have done constitutes academic fraud, and the only reason why you haven’t been kicked out of the School of Engineering altogether is because my secretary talked me into giving you a second chance. We barely have any tolerance for slacker punks like you around here.”
Damn. ‘Punks’, eh? This mf’er was going after the hair? For realz?
“Ummm…thanks for taking mercy on my poor soul?”
“You’ve wasted enough of my precious time, and I need to get back to my meeting. Now get your ugly face out of my sight before I change my mind!”
“Yes, sir,” I said quietly and very, very humbly (this time I didn’t have to fake my humility), as a slinked away with my tail between my legs.
*a few weeks later*
Having quickly realized that my talents were going to be unsung and underappreciated in the engineering world, I changed my major to…education.
In retrospect, that was a bold move, given that I had just about got kicked out of my department for being a sh*t teacher. But of course the irony of situations like this aren’t apparent until 20 or so years later.
Anyways….The point of the story is, kids, it’s always cool to follow the rules. And if the rules you have to follow suck the life out of your soul, then go find yourself another piece of proverbial land in a far-off place where the rules are actually cool…
Content created on: 8 & 10 May 2024 (Weds/Fri)
Footnotes & References:
The latest word on the street