Dr. Naomi Wise put on her reading glasses and looked at the “paper” on the computer in front of her. “How Tobacco Perverted Science to Sell and Profit Off Addiction and Death in African American Households.” Not the most original of titles, but the student, a freshman in her Sociology Class at Howard University, certainly took a stance right from the opening. The girl had receipts.
She smiled. She liked the summer semesters. She saw some of the best work from students in these truncated semesters. She also liked working in her office on weekends. It wasn’t unusual for her to be in her office on Sundays and holidays.
Dr. Wise was renowned in her field. She could teach anywhere. She chose Howard, her own alma mater. Howard University was as much a part of her self-identity as her own family. She’d been slightly disappointed when her granddaughter, Camille, had chosen Mary Washington University over Howard thirteen years prior, but the girl had been raised by her mother after all. Gwen Wise had never seen eye to eye with her learned mother-in-law. After Jameel had been killed in Afghanistan, Naomi had seen less and less of her granddaughter until the relationship was reduced to holiday telephone calls. Naomi sighed. She knew she was equally to blame, but it felt better to blame Gwen.
Uncertain as to why she was thinking of her granddaughter at that moment, she refocused on the paper in front of her. The student, Jameka Bradley, had included memorandums from Bowen Tobacco, dating decades back, all pushing the agenda to suppress scientific evidence about the addictiveness of nicotine. There was nothing new in them. This had all been exposed in several lawsuits over the last few decades, but this was an introductory sociology class, and Naomi was impressed with Jameka’s thoroughness and resourcefulness.
One memo caught her attention and turned her focus back to her granddaughter. It mentioned a contract with Moore Robotics in Chicago. Isn’t that where Camille’s husband is working?
She opened her email and shot a quick note to Jameka. “I’m very impressed with your research. I’m curious about a memo you referenced dated September 1, 1998. Would you be available to review your source material this afternoon? I’d like to see the original memorandum.”
Within minutes, Jameka had replied she’d be delighted and would be available at 12:30 pm.
Naomi penciled the girl in and called her granddaughter.