It was the first day of the fall semester. First Year Composition. I sat in the back of the classroom and watched them enter, their nerves all over their faces. The white board in the front of them read, "EXTRA CREDIT will be given" in red. There was a neat stack of paper on the table by the podium.
The class filled quickly and the students sat quietly, waiting. The space in front that was generally reserved for the professor was vacant. Students began to stir, unsure what this freedom meant.
"She's not gonna show. I heard this is her first class and she's only 24." a guy by the door said.
"She better be hot." a masculine female in the back offered. The class laughed nervously.
"But come on guys. She can't be 24. It takes a lot to become a professor," the studious girl in the front of the room interjected.
"That just means she's gonna be one of those nerdy types who finished college at 12." More laughter welled in the class.
"Did you see her name on the class schedule? 'Fri-dree-kah,' 'Fred-der-reekah.' How do you say it?" a pretty blonde girl in pearls with perfectly manicured fingers asked.
"That name is kind of ethnic." was the verdict from a preppy looking gentleman in the third row.
The class shot glances in the direction of a black student in the front. She looked out the window and gave a head shake so slight only the trained eye would notice. Her smirk held wisdom.
"Wow. Awkward…" guy by the door concluded. "Anyway. If she doesn't show after 15 minutes we can leave and no one can hold it against us."
"But what about the extra credit?" The studious girl wanted everything that was coming to her.
"There is no extra credit. That was on the board when we got here." The butch female insisted.
"Alright. So who's with me. Most of us have to leave in order for the 15 minute rule to work." The guy by the door was emerging as a leader.
"What's with this rule? There is no such thing. Plus, you're a freshman like the rest of us. What do you know?" Studious girl thoughts were focused on the ramifications of walking out on the first day of classes.
"My brother is a senior. He told me about the rule. And he said no one goes to class on the first day anyway. So we're all patsies for being here."
"So why don't you leave, Patsy?" The black girl by the window spoke finally looking directly at the self identified leader of the bunch.
"Oh, I plan to. Just trying to help as many of you as I can, my sister."
The black girl rolled with it. "Is that right? Seems to me it would help us the most if you left." Then she gestured to the whole class, "Anyone who wants to leave, really. No point in sitting around talking about leaving." Then back to the Leader, "Be about it."
"You are right. I like you. I like the way you think. I'm out. Anybody coming?" the Leader got up. He watched the majority of the class packing up and a smile wrinkled his face. "Awesome." He turned to leave and people -- the butch girl, the sheltered girl, the preppy guy -- began to follow him slowly.
Five students remained: the studious girl, the black girl, a couple, and me. The couple sat to themselves discussing a paper the girl was holding. The studious girl looked toward the black girl.
"My name's Jessica," she offered.
The black girl nodded. Jessica looked at her watch. "Well, it's been officially fifteen minutes. Are you leaving?"
"I'm going to wait for the fireworks."
Jessica wasn't sure what she meant. "Uh, ok. It was nice meeting you. See you Wednesday." she packed up, gave the class another look, and left.
I stood up and made my way to the front of the room.
"Since the three of you are still here, that means you picked up a syllabus on the way in," I said.
They nodded. "My name is Frederika Tyler-Watson. Welcome to First Year Composition." I introduced myself. "On the syllabus I promised that you would be handsomely rewarded if you 'stayed for the fireworks' so you'll all get extra credit equivalent to one homework assignment. I encourage you to tell your classmates. Sign the roll and I'll see you on Wednesday."
The three students looked at each other absorbing the social experiment they had just witnessed. They couldn't wait for Jessica to realize the prize she had missed. Couldn't wait to see how ethnic Ms. Tyler-Watson could be. They wondered if the Leader would think she was hot or nerdy, and if his minions realized how they had been taken. Yes. Fireworks, indeed.
The class filled quickly and the students sat quietly, waiting. The space in front that was generally reserved for the professor was vacant. Students began to stir, unsure what this freedom meant.
"She's not gonna show. I heard this is her first class and she's only 24." a guy by the door said.
"She better be hot." a masculine female in the back offered. The class laughed nervously.
"But come on guys. She can't be 24. It takes a lot to become a professor," the studious girl in the front of the room interjected.
"That just means she's gonna be one of those nerdy types who finished college at 12." More laughter welled in the class.
"Did you see her name on the class schedule? 'Fri-dree-kah,' 'Fred-der-reekah.' How do you say it?" a pretty blonde girl in pearls with perfectly manicured fingers asked.
"That name is kind of ethnic." was the verdict from a preppy looking gentleman in the third row.
The class shot glances in the direction of a black student in the front. She looked out the window and gave a head shake so slight only the trained eye would notice. Her smirk held wisdom.
"Wow. Awkward…" guy by the door concluded. "Anyway. If she doesn't show after 15 minutes we can leave and no one can hold it against us."
"But what about the extra credit?" The studious girl wanted everything that was coming to her.
"There is no extra credit. That was on the board when we got here." The butch female insisted.
"Alright. So who's with me. Most of us have to leave in order for the 15 minute rule to work." The guy by the door was emerging as a leader.
"What's with this rule? There is no such thing. Plus, you're a freshman like the rest of us. What do you know?" Studious girl thoughts were focused on the ramifications of walking out on the first day of classes.
"My brother is a senior. He told me about the rule. And he said no one goes to class on the first day anyway. So we're all patsies for being here."
"So why don't you leave, Patsy?" The black girl by the window spoke finally looking directly at the self identified leader of the bunch.
"Oh, I plan to. Just trying to help as many of you as I can, my sister."
The black girl rolled with it. "Is that right? Seems to me it would help us the most if you left." Then she gestured to the whole class, "Anyone who wants to leave, really. No point in sitting around talking about leaving." Then back to the Leader, "Be about it."
"You are right. I like you. I like the way you think. I'm out. Anybody coming?" the Leader got up. He watched the majority of the class packing up and a smile wrinkled his face. "Awesome." He turned to leave and people -- the butch girl, the sheltered girl, the preppy guy -- began to follow him slowly.
Five students remained: the studious girl, the black girl, a couple, and me. The couple sat to themselves discussing a paper the girl was holding. The studious girl looked toward the black girl.
"My name's Jessica," she offered.
The black girl nodded. Jessica looked at her watch. "Well, it's been officially fifteen minutes. Are you leaving?"
"I'm going to wait for the fireworks."
Jessica wasn't sure what she meant. "Uh, ok. It was nice meeting you. See you Wednesday." she packed up, gave the class another look, and left.
I stood up and made my way to the front of the room.
"Since the three of you are still here, that means you picked up a syllabus on the way in," I said.
They nodded. "My name is Frederika Tyler-Watson. Welcome to First Year Composition." I introduced myself. "On the syllabus I promised that you would be handsomely rewarded if you 'stayed for the fireworks' so you'll all get extra credit equivalent to one homework assignment. I encourage you to tell your classmates. Sign the roll and I'll see you on Wednesday."
The three students looked at each other absorbing the social experiment they had just witnessed. They couldn't wait for Jessica to realize the prize she had missed. Couldn't wait to see how ethnic Ms. Tyler-Watson could be. They wondered if the Leader would think she was hot or nerdy, and if his minions realized how they had been taken. Yes. Fireworks, indeed.
Good one!
ReplyDeleteThat story was mad nice yo!Exsquisite story-telling, and I love how the ending clenched it and really brought the title out. That was good I got goosebumps!
ReplyDelete