May 27, 2025

Dr. Rue: Ah, Dr. Fleming, I see you are back.

Dave: Of course, Doctor. I found our first session very worthwhile.

Dr. Rue: Well, I didn't appreciate being used. Starting today we are going to lay down some rules.

Dave: Dr. Rue's Rules, eh? Sure. What are they?

Dr. Rue: Well, let's start with the therapist-client confidentiality  Clearly I can't share these conversations, but I can find nothing in the literature that says you can't. So, for starters, you need to tell me when you plan to publish our discussions.

Dave: Just always assume it. I think the whole point of these sessions is to rip open the private to public light.

Dr. Rue: You sure about that?

Dave: Well, if it makes you feel any better, the response to Session #1 was mostly indifference, to say the least.

Dr. Rue: That sounds like a topic in itself. I will make a note for a future session. By the way, I'm still not clear on how we manage HIPAA in this situation; again, I suppose if you are sharing the information about yourself, it is allowed. But I would recommend against it.

Dave: I know all about these privacy things, Doc: HIPAA. FERPA. We had a climbing wall at SMC. I thought I might even have to learn about SHERPA.

Dr. Rue: {groans} I also continue to wait upon your insurance company to see if they will cover any of these sessions. You prepared to pay the full until that gets settled?

Dave: Yes. I fully expect mental health coverage to be relegated to even less importance than dental coverage.

Dr. Rue: All the more reasons for you to establish clear goals for our sessions.

Dave: That's simple. I want to be able to enjoy my retirement, to stop ruminating about my career.

Dr. Rue: That will work. I recommend we stay with the early period of your career for awhile, the DCB years. Let's call it the infantile stage of your professional life.

Dave: Sheesh! Do all of you worship at the throne of Freud?

Dr. Rue: Don't you worry about that. I was reviewing your CV, and noted that you won several instructor of the year awards. One could presume you had found your niche. Why did you abandon that for administration?

Dave: Teaching is fucking hard, doc. Only teachers really understand that.

Dr. Rue: O.k., well that was direct. I will overlook the salty language.

Dave: That's part of why I was successful as a teacher. Students knew I kept it real.

Dr. Rue: "Kept it real?" Was that the language used for instructor evaluations?

Dave: Ha, make a note that faculty evaluation needs to be a subject for its own day. No, I have always been likely to use profanity in regular conversations. I think it helped my students to see how powerful and how equally meaningless language can be.

Dr. Rue: So you were likely to drop the F-bomb during a class session?

Dave: Oh yeah, and later in meetings, and maybe even an occasional "damn" at a professional function. They are all just breath.

Dr. Rue: Still, I would assume that got you in some hot water with deans, vice-presidents, or presidents.

Dave: You might think, but, you'll never find it cited in my performance evaluations.

Dr. Rue: Never?

Dave: No, which says so much about "progressive discipline" or "room for improvement" as the keywords of your friendly HR department.

Dr. Rue: I don't have one of those.

Dave: No one has a friendly one, doc.

Dr. Rue: I run a small clinic, we have no HR Department. But, this isn't about me. So, while this is all fascinating, you still haven't really answered the initial question: Why did you move from teaching to administration?

Dave: I want to be careful answering this.

Dr. Rue: Why start now?

Dave: Look if there's one thing I can't stand it's the way faculty can bitch about students. You wouldn't know how it is, but it's the conversation in the faculty break room when colleagues start complaining about students, especially individual ones. "So and so missed his fourth class in a row today, but still keeps emailing me to know what he missed. How many more of his grandmothers can die?" The complaining comes off so unprofessional, emerging from a narrow vision where all students are expected to be the shining exemplars of education that we, supposedly, were at their age.  

Dr. Rue: O.k., I hear a caveat. Do I hear a confession?

Dave: Having said that, I was starting to show some frustration in front of students. Most of this happened in the "Intro to Literature" classes I taught. I didn't lose my cool as much when students chickened out of doing their scheduled presentations in Speech class; I shrugged off the 5-page submissions for the 12-15 page reports assigned in Technical Writing; and I bit my tongue when dozens of Humanities' midterms finished with F grades. But, Lit?  All students had to do, most days, was read a few poems, or a couple of short stories, or a few acts in a play, and be ready to discuss these during class time. Yet when they didn't, my plans for the day went out the window. One night I snapped when it became clear that almost all of the class hadn't read the material. I kicked the lectern, screaming something like "I could have a better conversation with my fucking dog than what you all are providing."

Dr. Rue: And that didn't get you called into the Dean's Office?

Dave: Hell, no. There were always a few students who responded positively to my occasional rants and got me through it. But this time I had to limp back to my office with my proverbial tail between my leg, regretting the kick more than the words. What might I hurt next time? Opportunities were beginning to open up anyway at that time, so I figured God was sending me a message.

Dr. Rue: You think God speaks to you through an unyielding speaker stand?

Dave: Actually, I don't think God speaks to us at all, but I was using a figure of speech. I taught English, remember.

Dr. Rue: So, what's the underlying issue here? Do you regret the outburst? The decision to move to administration?

Dave: {after a lengthy hesitation} I don't know. Sorry, I know that is a lame answer.

Dr. Rue: No, it's o.k. Let me put it another way. What are you ruminating about here?

Dave: {more hesitation} Well, I taught some as an administrator, especially the last few years. I found it a miserable experience.

Dr. Rue: How so?

Dave: {after a lengthy pause} Because I don't think I was keeping it real anymore.

Dr. Rue: Go on.

Dave: Many of the students were so disengaged. It was an "intro to college" class, so in some ways, it demanded even less in terms of preparation than that "intro to lit," but I couldn't bring myself to even kick the lectern.

Dr. Rue: Good news for your feet, bad news for you heart, I suppose.

Dave: Well said. I guess my heart wasn't in it anymore.

Dr. Rue: Is that so wrong after 35 years?

Dave: I don't know. But it still feels like I let a lot of people down, myself for starters. I know that when I stood in front of the faculty for our various professional development days, they could see I felt their pain. But by that point, had I just become another complaining instructor? Besides who could I complain to?

Dr. Rue: Perhaps you shouldn't be so hard on yourself.

Dave: You sound like my father. . . . Damn, that's it.

Dr. Rue: What's "it?"

Dave: My dad gave me advice when I was teaching in grad school at West Virginia. He told me to not worry much about the students who wouldn't let me reach them, focus on the ones who were letting me reach them.

Dr. Rue: Sounds like a smart man.

Dave: He did rack up a few more "teacher of the year" awards than I did.

Dr. Rue: I'm afraid our time is up. What's your verdict on today's session?

Dave: Well, good and bad. All of this drudged up a very recent disappointment. One of the three or four really good students in that last class I taught was nominated to be the speaker at the annual Honors' reception. You know the kind of event I mean, right? Honoring students with 3.5 and higher GPAs. No one even told me. I was never invited. I would have liked to support her.

Dr. Rue: This may be the hardest thing for you to accept, David, that when our careers end, the world we inhabited moves on, often without much thought of us.

Dave: Sheesh, that's a cheery way to wrap up this session, doc. Thanks for nothing. See you next time.

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The Ever-Evolving Full Series Of Sessions

Session #1: Just Call Me Norma