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Wild Justice.
by Ruth M. Sprague.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
It is no accident that women continue to earn less than men.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the testosterone temples of academia. Here, the ceiling is made of plexigla.s.s.
Although more women are allowed in the cla.s.srooms and even into the board rooms, decisions are still made in the men's rooms.
More women obtain advanced degrees and achieve faculty positions, but few are allowed into the highest administrative positions.
Rather, they are found in greatest numbers in the lower paying, most labor intensive positions.
Civil Rights laws connecting compliance with federal grants are blatantly ignored or creatively circ.u.mvented by many inst.i.tutes of higher learning. The courts and the EEOC, weakened to the point of extinction by the regressive administrations of the eighties, are about as effective as warm spit in enforcing compliance.
Using the double edged sword of coercion and hara.s.sment, these inst.i.tutions of "higher learning" continue to maintain their status quo. This book portrays a few of the artifices they employ.
Characters, descriptions and locations are fictional, created from the right side of the author's brain.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ruth M. Sprague, Ph.D., a native Vermonter known to hundreds of her former students as Dr. Ruth, is retired after many years teaching nursing and medical students.
She has published several scientific papers, teaching tutorials and one novel, VERMONT TALES FOR FOOLS AND OTHER LOVERS.
"Revenge is a kind of wild justice." --Francis Bacon
WILD JUSTICE
by
Ruth M. Sprague
Foreplay
"You can't be serious," exclaimed Diana Trenchant, leaning toward the man sitting behind the desk. "Incredible!
Why on earth would I want to fill out and turn in student feedback forms in my own course? All of my semester student evaluations have been excellent."
Dr. Lyle Stone, Chairman of the Nutrition, Embryology and Radiology Department, relished the power of his position as fervently as he detested the acronym, NERD, that had been irreparably attached to it. He pa.s.sed a small pile of forms across his desk to Diana. "Obviously you wanted to cause harm to the two other instructors in the course," he replied smugly.
His expression and demeanor suggested a small boy torturing a bug and extracting the utmost enjoyment out of it.
"Harm them?" Dr. Trenchant laughed scornfully and sat back in her chair scanning the evaluation forms. "You claim I wrote these five which are derogatory toward them and the course. Five!
Over two years and hundreds of feedback forms? How could there be any harm attributed to these particular forms when you know that both of those instructors have consistently received derogatory evaluations from the students since they started teaching the course?"
Diana held the offending papers out in demonstration toward Lyle, indignation rampant in her gesture. Lyle ignored her question and picked up two other papers from his desk which he handed to Diana saying accusingly, "Besides those five, here are copies of two you also wrote concerning the nutrition course. Together, these const.i.tute repeated acts of dishonesty which are grounds for termination for cause. "However. . ." Lyle tried for a kindly expression and failed, "we are prepared to forget these charges if you resign."
"Oh, that's the game, is it? No way. I'm going to talk to the faculty ombudsman about this and find out what steps to take,"
returned Diana, hotly, rising from her chair and starting toward the door.
"You can't." As Diana turned back to look at him, Lyle continued with some desperation, "You have no recourse, no appeal.
The entire academic council have met and decided already on this course of action. If you do not resign on your own, you will be terminated."
"But not without a hearing certainly--according to the faculty handbook.
Or are you suspending those rights along with my access to the ombudsman?"
Grabbing up the copies of the forms, Diana left the room.
As the door closed behind her, Lyle reached for the phone and dialed with considerable agitation. "Henry, she won't resign.
She's gone to see Jonathan and intends to make a public mess of it,"
he babbled hysterically.
"Calm yourself, Lyle. I've already spoken to Jonathan and if it comes to a hearing, well--don't forget, I select the hearing panel and chair it. Her public mess be d.a.m.ned, all our hearings are closed to the public. Get a grip and stop blubbering."
GIVE THE DEVIL HER DUE
Chapter 1
It was going to be a perfect June day. Already a cloudless, azure sky, promising no hint of rain, arched over a shimmering campus.
All shades of green were represented and so was every color in the flowers that lined the walks and burst forth from the beds.
In perfect compliment, the lovely old brick and stone buildings sat around the campus, complaisant and secure, full of pride and tradition.
The library building, squat and solid, redolent with the collected tomes of the ages, stood as a testament to humanity's progress. Works of ancient poets and philosophers, sinners and saints filled the shelves co-mingling with the more recent and modern books. Here were the records of man's highest achievements and his inhumanity to man but as yet, this building cataloged few, if any, records of woman's highest achievements and man's in-humanity to woman. The former being seldom recorded or remembered; the latter too usual and customary to remark upon.
Whistling softly to himself, Jonathan Bambridge, Professor, Ph.D, Faculty Ombudsman left the sidewalk and entered the administration building. He proceeded directly to the Vice President's office and entered through a door already open.
"Jonathan, good of you to come on such short notice," greeted the Academic VP, waving Jonathan toward the inner office.
One wall of the office was devoted to 'art'. The entire grouping reminded Jonathan of different aspects of the same road-kill.
"On a day like this, it is a pleasure, Henry. Looks like the weather is cooperating for graduation this year."
"Well, it's about time. Two years in a row we've been rained out. Drop your bag, grab a cup of coffee and sit down."
Henry Tarbuck, Academic Vice President picked up his own cup from his desk and went to the conference chairs arranged for conversation in the office alcove. From here he eyed Jonathan reflectively. Good man, he thought. Saved us a batch of trouble by coming to me right off.