Mapping the Brick Wall

Reunited again: Dean Meng, Dean Yang, Jim, me, in another meeting.

To cut to the chase, the impetus for expelling David was the noise attack; but since his role was unprovable, the justification was that I'd caught him cheating in the exam a few weeks earlier.

In the several tests we've had, I made no effort to prevent cheating -- I had no intention of considering test scores in calculating the course grade. But in our one exam to date, I strove for fairness. There were three classroom monitors -- Jim Wu; Ms. Wang, a lady of about 50 who seems to have an admin helper role here (unless unbeknownst to me she's the really top boss); and me. The students were seated about one meter apart. I did not give them the choice of where to sit, but assigned seats (randomly). And I even departed from the much more convenient multiple choice format, to make copying still more difficult.

David sought to overcome these hurdles. Towards the end of the exam I was diverted with something. But I happened to turn quickly, and I saw David and one of his roommates, Ken, who happened to be seated next to him, reaching across the space between them to exchange papers. On being spotted, David, half-raised, hurriedly sat down and rearranged his papers, looking guilty. I collected his and Ken's papers right then, confiscating the time remaining, and held them back to give them both a talking-to after the others had finished and left the room. But I applied no penalty.

They insisted that one of them had dropped papers and the other was helping him pick them up. But they said "thanks" when they heard I wouldn't do anything.

David's English, incidentally, is at the top of the class; Ken's is at the other extreme. So obviously David was aiming to "help" Ken. (And it was surely David's initiative.)

These were the only two cheaters I knew of on the exam, except that a couple of days later, Jim happened to mention to me that Ms. Wang had stopped a girl who was surreptitiously referring to a book inside her desk. (I was later advised of an additional measure I'd overlooked -- have them sit on the opposite sides of the desks, facing the back of the room, so they can't reach into the opening and get to the desk's contents.) When I asked Ms. Wang who she'd seen cheating, she claimed to have forgotten.

That's just the kind of place this is.

Now I was going to deliver evidence of David's cheating to the deans. I summoned Ken, ran him through a few questions about the recent noise incident, then threw out: "When we had the exam, whose papers dropped on the floor, yours or David's?"

The story I gathered was that David's papers had fallen, not vertically, and had landed closer to Ken, who then did the gentlemanly thing and restored them to David.

Ken's attitude towards me in the meeting was hostile and uncooperative, while with the deans he was ingratiating and deferential. It makes you wonder what implicit messages have been communicated to students about the standing of their foreign teachers.

But then the deans began questioning him a bit. I'd made it clear to Meng that Ken was just a follower, not the leader and not our target. But under their questions, Ken became visibly very nervous -- short of breath, stammering. This was no David.

He eventually faced me to declare: "I am a very bad student."

I didn't know what to say. There was not much I could say. He can hardly understand English (he's one of the ones who shouldn't have been in my class in the first place).

I wanted to get him out and get David next, but the deans wanted to speak to Ken alone, without me, so I agreed to wait outside for "five minutes." After about 15 minutes I returned to suggest I interview David then -- it wouldn't be long -- then I could go for my dinner and they could keep interviewing whoever as much as they wanted. They agreed.

David, questioned separately, gave an account identical to the one elicited from Ken. At least, when it comes to cooking up consistent stories, some students can be diligent. He also said that at the time of the noise his room had been empty as he and his roommates were visiting another room for five hours straight.

The fantastic story of flying papers and the acknowledgement by the two students themselves of how they'd exchanged papers seemed to be quite sufficient to my purpose. But then David declared that Ms. Wang had seen the accidental drop and the prompt handback and would be able to corroborate everything.

This thing is almost too silly to document, but I want to show you how absurd things can get.

Ms. Wang was summoned. Yes, she'd seen David's papers on the floor near Ken; and she'd seen Ken return them.

There was no way in the universe I could begin to believe that for a second.

She did not think there was any cheating going on, she added.

Had she seen the papers fall, I asked.

No.

If they were nearer Ken, why did she assume they were David's?

Because Ken handed them to David.

Ohhh.

Thank goodness I've got such sharp exam monitors to assist me.

A glance at Meng. Zero awareness that anything here might be dubious. (Or more accurately, zero interest in my little endeavor to prove something earth-shatteringly irrelevant to him.)

She'd seen me immediately take the two papers from the boys. If she was persuaded they weren't cheating, why didn't she mention it to me? I asked.

She thought they'd finished the exam early because David is a good student.

Maybe you're getting a sense of how they don't even shoot for plausibility any more.

David, who as mentioned is devious and manipulative, was dropping all sorts of dark hints and indications for the benefit of the deans, in the course of his cocky, roundabout answers, as to how there were things that were deeply wrong with my attitude and teaching style -- and he also very much wanted to divert the whole meeting with my Letter to Students (which I'd distributed that same morning). During his interview, incidentally, his cellphone twice sounded the snazzy tune he'd programmed as his ring indicator -- as if to underscore the levity of our proceedings -- and he had to fumble in his rumpled clothes to fish it out and silence it.

When I was through with my questions, I asked that he express his worst charge against me then, in my presence, so I could answer it.

He turned to Meng: "Can I speak in Chinese? It is my right."

Meng told him to say it in English. He'd have a chance to talk to them in Chinese later.

David, facing me, said: "I have nothing to say. You're always right."

But that was the preface. He began painting a picture of a teacher who threatens the students with "trouble" left and right and who "always" tells Ken he's a bad student....

Hold on. I cut him off. I always tell Ken he's a bad student?

May I finish, he asked.

No, I said. Since when do I always tell Ken he's a bad student?

He denied having said that I always tell Ken he's a bad student.

I turned to Jim. Didn't he say, a moment ago, that I ....

Jim couldn't remember that.

Mr. Meng?

Meng told David: "Say it again, repeat it."

David began something, tripped over his words, restarted: "You told Ken he is not a good student...."

He had my letter of that morning in mind (which doesn't say that). I asked him, when before today?

David thought for a moment and answered: last month, I had asked Ken a question in class, and when he'd been unable to answer I said something to that effect.

This had gone on long enough. I told Meng it didn't look like David had any very serious grievance for me to answer.

Meng asked me: "What do you think I should do? What would you do in my position?"

"We should expel David," I told him, with David still sitting there.

Meng began making noises about how they would like to talk further with David and he would like to make a decision later. That meant it would never happen.

I was annoyed with Meng, annoyed with this interminable meeting. I said let's you and me talk now. They could continue with David later if they wanted.

David was asked to exit.

Meng complained to me that I could not expect him to make an immediate decision. But timing was not the issue. There was to be no decision. There had never been any question.

"There is no proof that it is David who did the noise."

I explained again about cheating being the justification.

Why didn't you apply any penalty at the time? they asked me.

I used discretion, I said. I stopped a cheating attempt. It wasn't successful.

The first time, Meng said, the student gets a warning. That is the university regulation. Later he amended to say something to the effect that the regulation is, warning for unsuccessful cheating attempts.

I didn't believe any of that for a second either.

Also, they said, the cheating was three weeks ago. We would have had to do something then ....

The time for subtlety was past. I ticked off my grievances with my fingers. You told me "state university," I told Meng; but this isn't a state university. You invited me from Toronto for university teaching, but these aren't university students. I'm teaching, as you know, at a mismanaged campus. Now I've got students attacking me -- and you won't do anything?

Conveniently for Meng, Yang was present, so rather than answering he translated this into Chinese for her.

Now she became active.

I should have reported this cheating incident at once, she said.

The woman was trying to put me on the defensive.

Who told me that? I asked.

That is university regulations, she said. Meng echoed her, saying these are international rules of academia.

They should be praising me for preventing a cheating attempt, I said. The other monitors didn't catch it.

But regulations said it must be reported immediately, and the student should get a zero.

International rules, intoned Mr. Meng.

I pointed out that, in that case, Ms. Wang had violated the rule when she didn't report the student referring to a book. But no one even bothered inventing some way that that would be consistent with the "international rule."

The meeting was getting kind of hostile. Yang was clearly fed up; I was exasperated; even Meng's efforts at conciliation were flagging.

Meng then suggested: maybe I'd like to just stop teaching the pre-university students -- with no change in salary. We'd go back to the beginning -- before my arrival, when Meng was teaching them.

I weighed this for a second. Yeah. Why not? I'd had enough of this. There were other discipline issues -- and there was someone else I wanted expelled (another roommate of David's), in that case for in-class problems, we hadn't even gotten to him -- but it was clear I was getting no support. It was too bad for the majority of non-troublemakers, but it was the school's fault.

I agreed to the offer. I said I'd be happy to keep teaching my freshman classes -- Meng said of course -- and I said I'd also prepare the final exam for the pre-university students as planned.

(As it turned out, Meng is not standing in for me. The A and B groups have simply each lost 6 hours of class weekly. Asked about this later, Meng told me it was because of their misbehavior, so the school wasn't obliged to fill in the lost time.)

We wrapped it up. All told, the meeting went on for three hours. Meng stepped out of the room with me to say: "I understand you. I hope you understand me."

I told him I didn't. What I meant is that I have no idea how much if any discretion Meng can exercise. And if he has any, how much it costs him -- a lot or a little -- to exercise it. And he'll never let me know. But I shook his hand and said goodnight.

Maybe I should do like most people -- stop pushing long before this point when it's obvious the brick wall won't yield. But then, it seems to me, I'd learn a little less -- and my story would be diminished.