Change

going to college after military service

 

 

Change

My Navy years swallowed up the last half of the "Sixties”.  I was in the Navy from 1966-1970 and was away from the "real world" for most of that time.  So leaving the Navy world and entering the academic world was a huge adjustment.  I couldn’t imagine being back in school and that transition was even more confusing   because the "Sixties" culture had been poured over the academic world like hot fudge on an ice-cream sundae,.  The most common social rules, things I had been brought up to live by, were changed utterly. Being brought up in the "fifties", I felt as though I had fallen into a black hole and arrived in a very strange universe.

At the community college, there was a large group of veterans.  As a group, we veterans were surprised, shocked, annoyed, and delighted all at the same time.
Perhaps the largest part of our education was learning to become part of the current culture; some of us never were able to do this.

One thing that was clear to me, however, was how much "older" my Navy experience had made me.  At twenty-two, even people a few years younger than me seemed like kids.  I was not nervous or shy in class.  After facing an enraged chief in the Navy, a professor inspired not a shiver.  As many of the professors were about my age or younger and had never been out of an educational environment, confrontations between ex-servicemen and their teachers were regular and intense.  We had been out in the world being responsible for ourselves, making our own decisions and dealing with the consequences of our actions.  Having our studies dished up to us in predigested form was not palatable and we often spit it out demanding the good stuff.

It was in my sociology class that I first confronted a professor of the new times. On the first day of class, a large young woman wearing work boots, a flannel shirt, long skirt and a bandana tied on her head marched into the room. She announced her name as being Ms. Paula Kline and that she would “change our ideas about society".

I thought she might need some socialization herself, as she must have missed the lesson on dressing appropriately.  But I talked myself out of judging another by how they looked.  Surely, I thought, I am not that shallow. So I decided to give her and this class my best effort.  After all, I was here to learn.

But before ten minutes had passed, Ms. Kline launched a tirade listing the many offenses society - specifically men - had heaped on women.  It was not that I disagreed with all her points, but her angry confrontational style made listening difficult.  Her attack on men felt like a personal attack on me.  But, I thought, I might need to hear these things and be open to looking at the world from a new point of view.  So I gritted my teeth, held my temper, and forced my mind open.

I managed to behave in that first class but was not happy about what seemed like endless attacks on males.  However, I listened to her and admitted to myself that some of her points seemed well taken.  What I did not hear was any balance of "women's issues" with "men's issues".  I knew from sometimes, bitter experience that men had "issues", as did women.

Arriving at the second class, I discovered a list of items written on the blackboard.  It was a listing of several things done to females by our male-dominated society.  For example, 1. female babies were always clothed in pink or yellow, 2. girls were encouraged to play with dolls, etc.

When the class began, Ms. Kline read each item and explained what each of them did to females. "Yellow or pink are feminine colors, dressing babies in those colors reinforces the female stereotype in our culture", she stated.  The playing with dolls was the culture's way of preparing girls to unquestioning acceptance of the nurturing mother role.  With each item and explanation, the cultural conspiracy grew and thickened.

I felt my frustration level rising, again.  There was no mention of males and social stereotypes.  Finally, I had enough and raised my hand.  When she called on me, I pointed out the omission of male items.  She stated that these things happened to women much more than they did to men.

I read each item on the board and stated how that same item applied to males, as well.  Blue instead of pink but the issue was the same;  Guns instead of dolls, teaching war, not motherhood.  Ms. Kline's smile tightened and got tighter as I went down the list.  By the end of the list, it was more like a scowl and she only had time to say through clenched teeth, “interesting points” as the bell ending class rang.  

As I stood to leave, I saw her glaring at me.

I smiled, said goodbye, and left, knowing that this conversation was only just beginning.

As we mentally circled each other for the next few weeks, our relationship remained cool and hostile.  There were controlled verbal volleys in just about every class.  But no major confrontations, until one day she was talking about negative stereotypes and a young man who had never spoken in the class raised his hand uneasy about speaking in class he said, “I know what you are talking about.  The other day my Chick…"

That was as far as he got.  Ms. Kline pounced on him like a vulture too hungry to wait for her prey to die.

"Chick!" she said, "Calling a woman a Chick is like calling a black man a n****r!"

At the very start of this outburst, the young man assumed the crouch of a trapped animal mindlessly frantic to escape. He flinched at each word as though each was a stabbing knife.

Not able to take any more, I stood up, pointed my finger at "Ms" Kline, and said loudly, "I am appalled at your behavior!  You have the nerve to call yourself a teacher. This guy was responding to your questions for the very first time in this class, for all I know for the first time in any class, and you cut him down because you did not like a word he used."

She protested, "I feel strongly about that word."

I said, "You are here to teach him not to cater to your own needs.  Handled in the right manor he would have learned better ways to express himself.  You, today, have undermined his interest in being sensitive - when he tried; you beat him up in public.  I am so disgusted I cannot even be in the same room with you right now."

With that, I stood up, picked up my books, and spinning on my heel left the room.

The next day I arrived at the classroom just before Ms. Kline began the class.  As I entered, I made eye contact with her and then made my way to my seat

Once I was seated, Ms. Kline made eye contact with me and in a very calm voice said, "Victor, I think we have a communication problem".

I maintained eye contact and replied, “I don't have a problem understanding you. Did you understand me, yesterday?"

She said that she had but felt we should talk outside of class.  I stated that I saw no purpose in outside class discussion with her, but if she wished would do so.  She seemed content with that response and started the class.  I wondered what she had in mind.  In the same circumstances, I would do the same thing.

Approaching me at the end of the class, Ms. Kline suggested we have a coffee at the student union for our talk.  Her tone had changed, no longer distant and superior, now friendly and something else.  I didn’t understand this change, only yesterday I had publicly told her off.  What was this about, I wondered?  I suggested the next day for coffee.  She agreed and said it would be good to get to know me better.  Know me better?  Was she coming on to me?  I left confused.

We met in the Student Union at two pm, purchased coffee, and found a table.  I didn’t buy Ms. Kline's coffee or pull out her chair for her.  I wondered if she would do these social courtesies for me but didn’t expect it.  Frankly, I had no idea what to expect from this meeting and was interested to see what would happen. There was the prerequisite small talk and then Ms. Kline slipped smoothly into "woman's issues".

This I expected.  This subject was the center of her life and she was passionate about it.  I listened for a while but soon heard and felt male-bashing insinuating itself into her monologue.  Bitter experience in the classroom had taught me that once on this road Ms. Kline rapidly picked up speed and sensitivity to other points-of-view became roadkill.

Thinking I better put on the brakes I said, “I hear what you are saying. Isn't it funny that so much of that applies to men as well as women."

 

I got a cold stare, something like a praying mantis eyeing its prey.

I continued, "This is all very confusing to me being brought up in the '50s.  During that time, roles and rules were Ozzie and Harriet clear.  I may not have always liked my role, but I understood it. Now, not only do I not understand my new role but I am being damned for my old role."

Ms. Kline considered this quiet rant and then said, "Just because men didn't see what they were doing as wrong doesn't make them blameless."

My turn to stare.  I had offered her the olive branch and she had hit me with it.  I stated, "The way to change behavior is by helping people to learn better behavior and rewarding them when they perform the better behavior.  Beating people up for past inappropriate behavior does not help and only hardens resistance to change."

She was starting to reply when I said, “This discussion is more appropriate to the classroom and that is where I will continue it with you.  Now isn’t the time. I need to find out more about this ‘woman's movement’ before I have a position on it."

"Well, I can tell you more about it." she offered.

"Thank you, but I think I understand your position and I need to talk to others about their position on these issues" I replied.

 There it was again, a soft look in her eyes. What was that about? She went from practically yelling at me, to flirting. I stood up, told her; I had to go to class, said goodbye and left. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings but did not want to date a sparring partner.

We never became more than acquaintances, but debated throughout the remainder of the sociology course.

Ms. Kiln was my first encounter with an active participant in the "movement" and I wondered why she would be attracted to me - a man who had stated vigorously that he was against the apparent one-sidedness of it.  At times, this "movement" made me just a little crazy, women often ended up beating up their supporters.  Men sympathetic to their cause listened endlessly to how bad men were, while other men who could care less, either ignored or ridiculed it.

I came to know several women who were active in the "movement", I saw that often they were as confused and uneasy as I was.  They knew the party-line but felt uncomfortable with, at least, parts of it. But I knew one thing for sure - the world I had grown up in was in a time of continuous change and would never be the same.  All of us male and female would have to adjust or be left out.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

This is quite an interesting tale, and one to which I can relate. In another universe, perhaps, I might have had similar experiences. The closest I ever came to running into a Ms. Kiln was my younger brother's wife. The hero in you showed in that class.

[spoils]

Sam (if you don't mind) i grew up dyslexic not knowing - thought I was stupid - the navy changed that. The reason I loved college was it didn't feel stupid - very glad you got the story _ I had a feeling you would.