A battle of words & wits
As we progressed, she kept thinking back to and mentioning words she had heard, and confusing them with words in the exercise. At one point she mixed up "ingenious", "ingenuous" and "indigenous", and I had to go to the whiteboard and write all three with their meanings and sentences. She did this again, confusing "vicissitudes" for "verisimilitude". I remarked, in jest, that the class would take forever, and she replied, acerbically: "It can't be avoided."
Later, as I solved the sheet with the students, she adopted a posture of challenge, like she was measuring me against some scale. I let it be. This was a demo class and I did not want the company to lose revenue on account of my taking offence and responding to her attempts at undermining me. The class carried on, overshooting the time, since she insisted on my explaining every word.
I called the class to a halt when the clock struck 9:30 (it was a 7 to 9 evening class) and told the students, the four of them, that I would finish the remainder the next day. When I reached the office the next day, the boss called me to his chamber and said the girl had called him in the morning. "She does not want to study under you," he said, and proceeded to explain why.
"One, she said you have poor time management. The class extended to 9:30 and yet the sheet was not completed." When I explained why, the boss said: "She said she had taken daylong seminars at her job and had always finished on time, so she did not understand how a class could run into overtime."
As the boss articulated the student's complaints, I imagined her saying the words. She was perfectly capable of the grouse, and her stiff features and sideways glance now seemed to me ideal for making criticism. The boss, on his part, was being difficult to read. Did he agree with her or did he not? He went on: "She said you were reading the newspaper while they did the sheets." To which I responded, rather breathlessly: "And that is a problem because?" The boss said: "I asked her the same thing."
"Now what?" I asked. "I guess I am stuck with her now," said the boss, who is also an English faculty but takes few classes, preferring to let his name lend brand value to the company (he spends his waking hours trading shares). With this student refusing to sit in my class, the boss would have to take what is called a one-on-one with her.
Which speaks losses all around. Not only with respect to revenue, since one-on-one students pay more, much more than classroom students, but also by wreaking scheduling havoc. And then there is the boss's opportunity cost of missing out on a quick buck at the trades.
"Have you told her you are from an IIM?" a friend said later, in righteous anger. "Tell her you write for a national daily and that you scored a 99-plus percentile in CAT Verbal this year." Be that as it may, it is difficult for me to hold a grudge against a student. This particular one is my age, works for a film distribution company. Had she been an MBA, she and I would be competitors for jobs. Yet, the mere fact that she is a student puts up this distance where my role becomes that of a nurturer.
When I was growing up, I used to joke with my family that I would let my nieces and nephews take me for granted. Maybe it had to do with the security I felt at home and the knowledge that as children, my sister and I enjoyed a vantage position in the household. Today, as I teach for a living, I realise that I have adopted the same attitude of benevolence towards my students.
Will I take her back if she returns? I am not sure. I espied a certain aggression - an inclination for a battle of wits - in the student. I don't want to partake in these games, as much as I don't want to be hurt by my inability to respond as an equal. She is a student; in my mind she has an upper hand, a place that I visit gently. Let it stay pristine. I would put in my papers, I have decided, if I am forced to teach her.
The author has switched too many jobs in the past and hopes he can hold down this one