With the perfect touch of decorum,
you choose to exit the scene. Been great, all, really, thanks for the memories, keep in touch, b-bye.
Yet as you turn to leave, you stumble down a set of hidden stairs. Down you plummet, down, down, downward and down until soft landing abottom. The stairs lead to a doorway, and you enter and emerge into a well-lit modern-type room.
Seems you’ve interrupted a meeting of sorts.
White modular half-circle tables are pressed together. Men and women sit attentively, pens in hand, small machines open before them. The room is so bright you feel an instinct to raise your hand against the sheer whiteness of the walls, the tables, the faces gathered, the electric light bathing it all.
Front and center, a woman dressed in some sort of negligee business suit stands hand a-hip, like a captain addressing her crew. She pauses at your interruption only to gesture you toward a seat. You sit apologetically. The others give you such a mere glance that you know you are nothing to them—or, as you consider their sad postures, their paunches and tired eyes, perhaps they are nothing, perhaps you have someone entered a deeper darker circle: a place that is nothing to anyone.
“Donuts and coffee in the back,” the nearest whispers to you.
“Let me tell you,” the woman continues, “about Instructure. We have spent years scouring the Higher Ed landscape for the brightest of its minds. We feel like astronomers searching the skies for new comets, new planets and systems that glow so much their students glow. I know, I know,” she says, laughing, “it’s a mixed metaphor. But there’s something to the magic of space. We want you to think about this as an exploration of places you may not realize exist. Go boldly! Because hey, we need to move the vector.”
Everyone, listen. This series of applied learning modules has been endorsed and supported by the Council of Education, and based on your advance questions I can tell you’re all really engaged, that you’re all going to do a really great job. Something I already observed, just now, is how great a job you’re all doing. You’re really moving out of your comfort zone,you are all super-competent! I want you to leave here feeling really good about how – ”
As the woman continues speaking, an assistant distributes binders. Beside your binder rests an electronic screen with square buttons; push a button and a soothing nature scene appears; push another, and a box asks you to log on. Log on? Somehow you know the password, GEMINI, and in moments you’re scheduling modules for the year-long online learning calendar. It’s not so bad—just a couple hours a week. Why not, at the end you’ll get a certificate. Plus—
You turn back. The donuts. Just a flash of pink icing. “Want anything?” you whisper to the woman beside you. “Crumb,” she says. “If there’s any left.”
Good choice–crumb donuts are always reliable.
Far more so, anyway, than this place of death.
END
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