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Lizzie stalked down the long corridor. There were no other students in the hallways this time of day, as classes were in session, but this was her advisory period, set aside for library work and consulting from time to time (as little as possible, in Lizzie’s mind) with her advisor or professors for the beginning-of-term planning sessions.
Lizzie thought she knew what she wanted out of college life and didn’t relish these sessions with her advisor. She really liked this professor and looked forward to his classes, but these sessions on career advice and evaluations of her performance felt like a complete waste of time to her. She had no desire to fit into some predetermined mold of “success.”
So, when she got to his office door, she rapped smartly, waited for his, “Come,” and vowed to herself that she would control her eye-rolling in his presence.
Professor Cormier was probably in his late fifties, balding and graying. He was shorter than Lizzie by about an inch, but she never felt she was looking down on him. He was energetic and seemed to look at the world as if it were somehow humorous, a joke that only he understood.
“Welcome, Lizzie,” he said, motioning to a chair across from his desk.
“Thanks, professor. Having a good start of term?” she asked pertly, and he cocked his head to one side inquisitively. He often reminded her of a bird. His eyes were dark, small, and bright, and his black brows were expressive. When lecturing, he often bounced on the balls of his feet when excited about his topic, which was often.
“Ah Lizzie,” he said, shaking his head with a sad smile. “I wish I could say this meeting was to congratulate you on a rise in your grades, but alas. Why do you think you’re here?”
“That’s a deep and age-old question, professor. Is this a test?”
He shook his head. “Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie... what are we to do with you? You have a brilliant and curious mind. You ace every exam put before you, but you seem to do the homework only if it interests you, and you don’t seem to be all that intent on even turning it in after you have completed it. You should be the valedictorian of your class at graduation, but your grades are mediocre at best. I don’t understand why you are attending this university.”
He didn’t sound scolding, but rather sad and more than a bit curious.
“I am sorry to be such a disappointment,” she replied tersely, looking at the hands in her lap.
“It isn’t my business to be disappointed in you, Lizzie. It isn’t my business to have an opinion one way or the other. When it all comes down to it, you get to choose. You’re an adult. What concerns me more than anything is the potential consequences of the choices you are making now. You could easily have the kind of grades that would get you any position you decided to shoot for after college or to pursue a doctorate in the discipline of your choice. But for now, you would be fortunate to get a clerical job somewhere.
“You’re intelligent enough to see this, so I ask you again: why are you here, if not to show your full potential to future employers?”
Lizzie looked up from her hands straight into the bright dark eyes of Professor Cormier and sighed. She felt he really was trying to help her, but how could she communicate clearly and without potential censure?
“Ah, professor, there’s the rub, actually. I’m not interested in impressing an employer. I’m willing to pay for my tuition and books for the simple purpose of learning. Between the money I saved up and my scholarships, I have enough to accomplish my true goals.
“I haven’t completely decided the specific path I need to take once I leave the university, but frankly I’m not sure I even care if I get a diploma. Learning is the entire point of my time here. Grades are significant only if I care what others think of what I’ve accomplished so far. I’m still deciding on where I go from here. I’m shooting for a path that involves traveling, studying, and exploring, but that’s as far as I’ve gotten.”
“Hmm, interesting. But I notice that your schedule is heavy with sciences and math. Why is that, do you think?”
“Curiosity, professor... sheer curiosity. I am ever curious to know how things work. Science and math are the study of how things work. I think there is so much more out there, so much we don’t yet understand. I spend a lot of time puzzling things out, and I find myself feeling like, if I just walked through the right door, the answers would be there. For now, the mysteries seem like they are calling me from a room in my head I have yet to discover. Okay, I know that makes very little sense, but it’s how I feel.”
Lizzie realized she was blushing. She was unused to being this open about her feelings and somehow felt she wasn’t adequately expressing how she felt.
Professor Cormier sat behind his desk his fingers steepled next to his chin in thought. “Lizzie, I have been watching you for the last two years. You have a lively mind, and your papers and comments are insightful, when you actually turn them in, but I suspect there is much more going on in that big brain of yours than you let on. I’ve been considering how I can help you rise to your potential....”
Oh boy, Lizzie thought with a mental sigh. Here it comes... another lecture about work ethic and seeking security in the world....”
But the professor met her large brown eyes solemnly with his bright birdlike ones and said, “Are you tired of the classroom environment? Perhaps somewhat bored with the snail’s pace of your instruction?”
Lizzie nodded and then realized this honest response might offend her advisor. But it was true. He had hit the proverbial nail on its proverbial head.
“Professor, no offense. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I do put in the work, and I also get impatient with my fellow students who seem to be plodding along. I shouldn’t judge, I know, but I really would like to get down to the real stuff. But they won’t let me take any of the truly advanced courses until I finish my bachelor’s, and it is taking too long to get there. So, I guess the answer is yes. I am impatient with the pace of the courses available to me.”
Professor Cormier didn’t reply immediately, and for a moment Lizzie wasn’t quite sure if he had even heard what she was saying.
“So, what if we cancel your classes for now and get into the real thing?”
“Professor?”
“I have developed a special, somewhat unusual course of study that would eliminate the fluff and get you into the level of science you seem to be so eager to explore. It isn’t a certified university course, and you would get no college credit, but you would achieve your goal of learning for learning’s sake. It would be self-funding, so no tuition, and room and board would be provided.
“You will recall from your history studies the ancient practice of apprenticeship? This would be like that. You would do the work I set out for you, and you would receive instruction in the sciences beyond what is available at any level in the university.
“Give it some consideration. It would be a major commitment, and I would require you to sign a nondisclosure agreement, as you will be working on projects that require absolute discretion. No textbooks and no lectures. A hundred percent hands-on science on top secret work. If you consider it and wish to pursue it, I will meet with you in a week to get your agreement and allow you to sign the paperwork.”
Lizzie realized she must look a bit dazed, her mouth slightly open and eyebrows raised.
“May I ask what prompted you to make this offer?” she finally asked into the silence.
“Among other things, there was a paper you actually did turn in to me in my Physics class. Do you remember? I have it right here.”
He reached into a desk drawer and slid the paper across the desk to her. She did remember. She hadn’t been sure at the time if she might not get a reprimand for the content. It was entitled, “The Role of Imagination in Science.”
“Yes, professor. I do remember. I would have written more, but your instructions were to make it brief. I didn’t feel I adequately addressed the topic, and I know that a lot of what I said contradicts some of the philosophies of many scientists... facts versus imagination instead of acknowledging that both are necessary. So, I admit to being a bit confused about why you thought this was a reason to invite me into your special project.”
“As I said, I’ve been following your university career and observing you in my classes. Other professors I have spoken to agree with me that you have great potential that may be wasted on formal classes. You appear to do the best in a lab environment, and your curiosity and outspoken nature mean that they often feel they would prefer to have you in a class of one,” he said with a raised eyebrow. And Lizzie found herself blushing once again.
He continued, “The university environment is stifling for someone like you. Ordinarily you would be stuck with just ‘doing your time’ as if the university were some kind of prison. For you, it probably seems that way, despite the opportunity to spend your time learning. But the timing of this particular opportunity is fortuitous and may not be available in the future.
“I won’t lie to you. It will mean a lot of hard work, and where it is taking you may not be clear to you in the beginning. The tasks I set you may not seem to be connected, but I promise you I will never set you a task that doesn’t have a distinct and important purpose toward your goals of discovery. Once you begin, you will be committed to continue. The contract you sign will obligate you for a minimum of one year. To keep your options open, I will set you up with a sabbatical status, so you could come back to the university with no penalties or gaps in your student record, should you choose not to continue when your contract is complete.
“As I said, I will let you consider this and come back in a week at this same time.”
Looking back, Lizzie would never be sure what prompted her action, but she leaned forward in her chair, looked the professor directly in the eye, and said, “I don’t need to consider. I’ll do it. You’ve covered all the bases, and an opportunity like this may not come again. Where do I sign?”
