Anonymous Professor: Celebrating Neurodiversity

I'm not really sure if I am the neurologically divergent faculty member. I could be. 

Some of the faculty engage each other in educationese. I don't understand what they're saying most of the time. Maybe they really don't understand each other. Maybe they do. They always sit together during the damnable faculty meetings and exchange tidbits about experiential learning, growth learning, inclusion, change management, diversity and inclusion, and cloud transformation. 

Christ on a bike. 

The esteemed Dr. Byrd Ivies PhD, a professor of linguistics, speaks yet another language, and I am sure that it's not a put-on. I've heard her talking to herself. It's the same bizarre word salad that may have some meaning to others who come from the same planet. Most people just nod and respond with an "Mmmm hmmm" and continue listening until the wonderful Land of Oz calls her back.

Nobody ever says anything about her unless it's thoroughly complimentary. 

I don't get it. 

I try not to be anywhere near her. She cornered me in the mail room once. That was when I made the connection between communication with other faculty and my urgent need to take a nap.

I muttered --- to myself--- that some of my students were unmotivated. I wasn't really speaking to her, but she answered me.

"A poorly designed curriculum can organically trigger non-binary ennui and prevent access to legitimate deterministic semiotics."

"Really?" I hadn't learned my lesson yet. 

"Truth," she said. "The most effective teacher must intentionally elide cultural subjectivities. It's the only way to connect with the youth of today, e.g. Tik Tok." 

"Okay," I said. "Thank you for telling me that. Now that you've told me, I'll memorize it then throw my head away for the good of mankind."

That's what I said on the inside. On the outside I said "Uhhhh huh. I wondered about that."

I never wondered about that, and I doubt that I ever will because I don't know what the hell she was telling me. I wondered how I could get out of the mail room and not knock her over. She scared me. 

Then there's the poetry professor. He's into his poetry schtick. During a faculty meeting, he was asked for his thoughts about student cheating. He didn't bat an eye:

             Beneath the desk, secrets take flight,
             Grade point average masked in night,
            The dance of shadows, a silent plea,
            Cheating whispers through academe's sea.

 Huh?

When the faculty celebrates neurodiversity--- and it will someday --- I'll spring for the party hats.