insanityIt seemed that nearly every teacher had at least one story to tell of a student whose conduct in class had crossed the line from odd to bizarre and then from bizarre to menacing. A librarian, a young woman on the evening shift who had rebuffed a student's repeated advances, had eventually been accosted by the student in the campus parking lot. There in the night, under the stark light of the lot, the student had become even more insistent. The librarian, he said, was the most beautiful woman he had ever known. He had fallen in love with her and now he must have her. He would not take no for an answer. Only when the librarian warned him that she had already reported his conduct to authorities did the student desist. Though unharmed, the woman was terribly frightened, the more so when the man began leaving at the same time she did after work, following her at a distance to her car even when she asked campus security for an escort. Then the man began stalking her. One night weeks later, when she thought he had abandoned the pursuit, she saw him crouching behind some thick bushes near the library, watching her.
I listened to these stories in awe. Most of them I had never before heard. Now, ever since the incident with Wyatt, this other, darker history of education at Techno had found tellers. Old memories had been refreshed. Incidents and events which had seemed only peculiar, even funny, at the time they occurred now seemed much more ominous and sinister in the light of Wyatt's threats and the present possibility of violence. Past words and forgotten details were recalled and reinterpreted, old stories recast. I'd seldom heard so many jokes. Most of them had to do with grades. It was impossible to ascertain how many times incidents like this had occurred at Techno over the years. Faculty and staff did not always report such incidents to their supervisors, and even more rarely did they file criminal complaints, so it was difficult if not impossible to know what had really happened or how often. In the underground anecdotal history of the college just one incident might generate a dozen different versions in its retelling, each embellished with enough distortion and exaggeration in the detail to render it distinct, separate, one more. Made public, reports of problems of safety and security might damage the institution's reputation and affect its enrollment. Questions of privacy and confidentiality arose. There was the fear of lawsuits. At least according to some administrators, the college was at risk legally from both students and faculty. If a teacher were to be harmed, he might sue. The college admitted everyone or almost everyone who applied, indeed it prided itself on the fact, and it did little to assess or evaluate its registrants' academic aptitude and achievement and even less if at all did it assess their character, emotional and psychological health, or personality. Nor for obvious social and philosophical reasons do I mean to imply that it should. Even if students volunteered information about their circumstances, conditions, and handicaps, the college could provide only minimal assistance if any at all. It employed no psychiatrist, no professional clinical psychologist. Its vocational counselors professed no expertise in such matters. Their training, even the so-called special needs counselors explained, was in careers. As career counselors they could only refer students to local organizations and agencies.
In any case students often preferred that their instructors not be informed of such handicaps, disabilities, and special needs. The knowledge might prejudice an instructor against a student. I could well imagine the complexity of the problem. How would the instructors of such a student be informed?
"Jane Doe, a student enrolled in your Tuesday evening composition class this quarter, is mentally ill. A paranoid schizophrenic, Jane Doe occasionally neglects her prescribed medication, as a result she sometimes suffers delusions and experiences psychotic episodes, and in this condition she may make irrational demands, curses, and threats to human life. Should such an event occur in your class this quarter, please report this student's conduct to the office of student services as soon as possible and advise the student to consult with her designated counselor so that the college may make arrangements to accommodate her special need."
No, probably not.
............................................
INSANITY to be continued
I listened to these stories in awe. Most of them I had never before heard. Now, ever since the incident with Wyatt, this other, darker history of education at Techno had found tellers. Old memories had been refreshed. Incidents and events which had seemed only peculiar, even funny, at the time they occurred now seemed much more ominous and sinister in the light of Wyatt's threats and the present possibility of violence. Past words and forgotten details were recalled and reinterpreted, old stories recast. I'd seldom heard so many jokes. Most of them had to do with grades. It was impossible to ascertain how many times incidents like this had occurred at Techno over the years. Faculty and staff did not always report such incidents to their supervisors, and even more rarely did they file criminal complaints, so it was difficult if not impossible to know what had really happened or how often. In the underground anecdotal history of the college just one incident might generate a dozen different versions in its retelling, each embellished with enough distortion and exaggeration in the detail to render it distinct, separate, one more. Made public, reports of problems of safety and security might damage the institution's reputation and affect its enrollment. Questions of privacy and confidentiality arose. There was the fear of lawsuits. At least according to some administrators, the college was at risk legally from both students and faculty. If a teacher were to be harmed, he might sue. The college admitted everyone or almost everyone who applied, indeed it prided itself on the fact, and it did little to assess or evaluate its registrants' academic aptitude and achievement and even less if at all did it assess their character, emotional and psychological health, or personality. Nor for obvious social and philosophical reasons do I mean to imply that it should. Even if students volunteered information about their circumstances, conditions, and handicaps, the college could provide only minimal assistance if any at all. It employed no psychiatrist, no professional clinical psychologist. Its vocational counselors professed no expertise in such matters. Their training, even the so-called special needs counselors explained, was in careers. As career counselors they could only refer students to local organizations and agencies.
In any case students often preferred that their instructors not be informed of such handicaps, disabilities, and special needs. The knowledge might prejudice an instructor against a student. I could well imagine the complexity of the problem. How would the instructors of such a student be informed?
"Jane Doe, a student enrolled in your Tuesday evening composition class this quarter, is mentally ill. A paranoid schizophrenic, Jane Doe occasionally neglects her prescribed medication, as a result she sometimes suffers delusions and experiences psychotic episodes, and in this condition she may make irrational demands, curses, and threats to human life. Should such an event occur in your class this quarter, please report this student's conduct to the office of student services as soon as possible and advise the student to consult with her designated counselor so that the college may make arrangements to accommodate her special need."
No, probably not.
............................................
INSANITY to be continued
