Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world.

Contest Special  – Jennifer Allen

January 13, 2007

I am happy to announce another new writer for Storytime Tapestry.  Jennifer Allen becomes writer # 391. Please email her and welcome her to the fold.

Old River and Creeking Young

Jennifer Allen

Over the summer I took a course -- the very last semester of my college experience, and I was ever so glad.  I thought I would get in and out with not much of a second thought, being that I am an old pro at showing up for class.  However, it turned out that this final science requirement would test me in a way that no other class or experience really ever had.

Immediately following the first exam, our instructor, Dr. Hossain, asked us to remain for the last half hour of the period because it was a summer course and we needed all the time we could get. As soon as we resumed class that day, a group of girls who had just finished high school a few weeks earlier raised their hands to complain that the test was "unfair and completely irrelevant." I was shocked by the fact that they thought the test was hard because it was a thirty question multiple choice exam that had 20 points of extra credit. We had also been given a study guide posted on the internet. This is not typical of university level courses. However, my shock turned to horror as the girls turned into a screeching mob, telling Dr. Hossain that he did not speak proper English or use it on the exam for a specific question. Not only was I an English major, and didn't find his English to be anything less than very proper, but the tone, approach, and content of what the girls were saying was disrespectful to the point that I was disgusted by them. I, and a couple of other women in the back, began telling one another that we were stunned by what we were seeing, and tried to speak so that we could stop the chaos, but there was no way anyone could hear us or that the young ladies causing trouble would listen. 

I stayed after class and told Dr. Hossain that I did not agree with the statements made by the class, and he was visibly shaken by the confrontation.  As well, there were two other men who also stayed to express the same sentiment. In spite of what happened, Dr. Hossain did not attack the girls or become hostile in any way. He simply seemed shocked and nerve wracked by the whole thing. He told us it was okay, and that he didn't understand what the problem was.

That night I couldn't get the incident out of my head. I kept thinking about how I didn't stop it, and what could I have done to stop it. I was reminded of a line I'd heard when I was a freshman: "Silence is consent."  I felt as if I had consented. The college I attended is the home of a very significant event in the civil rights movement, and the history of the place is something that we are all aware of.  Inspired by the idea that I might be like those who came before me and quietly do nothing while those around me commit horrible acts, I decided to send an email through the site that all of our study guides were posted on. In it, I politely explained why I disagreed with what was done that day, and how I was disturbed by being a part of it. I named the ringleader and questioned what others gained from following her.

Even though I knew it was the right thing to do, I also knew that I was opening myself up to the responses of roughly half the class who was involved. If they attacked a teacher, there's no telling what they would do to me, and I hadn't signed up with all of my friends as they had. But the idea of facing them the next day was easier than the idea of facing myself in the wee hours of night for the months after the course was completed and the choice was made.

The next day I went to class and Dr. Hossain smiled at me and stopped by my desk to ask how I was. Everyone stared at me, but nothing was said at first. After class, the head of the department came in and held the ringleader after class. I don't know what he said to her, but I imagine it was something along the lines of 'shape up or ship out.' The girls treated the professor with respect after that, and one day he said something very potent about the developmental differences between a creek, a stream, and a river. He said, "When the river is young, it does nothing but destroy the earth beneath it, carving out its way in the world. When it becomes middle aged, it has learned to be more productive, and carry sediment as well as destroying the earth beneath it. It is still destructive, but it is learning.  When it is very old, then it has learned all the things it needs to know to no longer destroy, and it only produces new land."

He was talking about the Mississippi Bird Foot Delta and the way the Mississippi River is not a young river – it is building new land in the delta. However, I was incredibly touched by the words he spoke because it seemed obvious to me that he was also saying, "Yes, you made mistakes, but there are no hard feelings because you are young and young people make mistakes. You have learned from your mistakes and we have all moved on down the river to something better."

Through those words I was able to witness a man showing compassion and forgiveness, while I saw a group of young women who - however nasty - were learning from a mistake. They may not have been nice to me, but they had learned to behave appropriately towards the man that they truly had done injustice to. Not only did I see the growth in the girls and the strength of Dr. Hossain, but I saw in myself that I had grown as well. I had proven to myself that I could do the right thing in spite of adversity. Also, while I had never done what those girls did, I have certainly done things that I am not proud of, and that is how I decided to take whatever came at me for speaking out. I had learned from my mistakes. I am a middle aged river, and I am on my way to being purely productive.

Jennifer Allen

jennifer_allen28@yahoo.com