Don't Forget to Write

And The Verdict Is...

After Bruno closed the door behind him, an old, black man with a shaved head, big cheeks, and thin spectacles looked up from a stack of papers at me, his pupils peeking over the top of his glasses. "Peter, do you mind if I call you Peter?"

"That's fine."

"Peter, my name is Daniel Stone. I am the Head of the Honors Commission and a few other boards here at CCNY. In short, my job here deals with disciplinary and legal issues with students in regards to academic misconduct. We are here today to talk about your role in a cheating scandal that has afflicted our institution this semester. Have you any idea what I am referring to?"

"No, sir."

"So, you claim to be unaware of any person or persons accepting money in exchange for completing written projects?"

"No, sir, Mr. Stone."

"Well, to be quite forward with you Peter, I have some evidence to the contrary. There has been a legal complaint about the integrity of our academic system, and the complaint places you in the center of a system in which you accept money from students to complete their papers. Before we go on, I will inform you of some of the evidence that the law-firm claims to have against you. First, staff members in the library have reported suspicious activities, and have identified you by your student ID as having spent a copious amount of time there, sometimes engaging with students in a, what they described as, 'suspicious behavior'." Those pesky damn librarians. "Second, there have been testimonies from multiple students who have admitted to cheating, and have said that you were the person who helped them. Third, statements from teachers who have seen multiple students perform exponentially better on their finals, then those students' previous performances would warrant. Now, as much as we would like to attest these higher grades to the ability and talent of our educators, the numbers seem too good to be true." Mr. Stone picked up his stack of papers and tapped them against the table to align them. "Of course, none of this is necessarily new to us. There have always been students who have cheated the system by hiring others to write their papers. But, we must say, this time it is on a much grander scale than anything we have seen before. The evidence against you and whoever else may be working with you is overwhelming." I felt somewhat proud to hear that I was running the biggest grading scam to hit CCNY, even if it was the last thing I'd do here. Stone was waiting for me to say something, but after a long pause, he continued. "In addition to the visual accounts of the library staff, the verbal accounts of students, and the legal representation behind one particular student, we have found that when comparing papers of students who admitted to cheating, the vocabulary and writing style are extremely similar. And, of course, when comparing them to your own writing, the similarities are nearly congruent." He took a pause to stare deep into my soul. He had been making eye contact nearly the entire time, hardly ever even taking a glance at my exposed scar (as I thought it'd be inappropriate to wear a hat to something this serious). But this time it was more than eye contact. It was a piercing glare, a check for understanding, a search for any hint of bullshittery. "Now, in the past, when we have caught an act such as this one, the punishment, while severe, has never included expulsion for a first offense. However, in your particular case, where the number of people affected is at least scores of students and dozens of classes, the crime's severity is much greater, thus the repercussion must also be greater. Beyond the sheer magnitude of the situation itself, we have the difficult and unfortunate circumstances of the threat of a lawsuit for unethical practices. The client claims he has been subjugated and humiliated in a broken system. The student filing this suit has the backing of one of the largest law firms in the city."

Fucking Chad, I thought. The kid who said his dad was a lawyer. Of course.

"Therefore, as a result of our research, of the evidence against you, and of the testimonies from several students and teachers, it is with some resignation that we must inform you that you are not welcome back at this institution or any of its sister schools across the city."

"You're... you're expelling me?"

"No Peter, we aren't expelling you. If we expelled you it would go on your record and no school would accept you. We are simply telling you that you are not welcome back. We suggest that you tell whoever was working with you to seize their operations." He paused and looked into my soul again. What was it with this guy and souls? "Peter, we are giving you the easy option here."

"Don't I get some sort of say in this? I'm not totally convinced you have all of the evidence, and I quite like this school."

"Peter, I'll be quite blunt about this," Mr. Stone said, taking off his spectacles and placing them on the stack of papers. He spoke in a softer voice, "Unless you have a multi-million-dollar law firm at your disposal, you don't have a chance. And, even if you did have that sort of legal backing, the evidence is overwhelmingly against you. It would end terribly not just for you, but for the whole school. I must suggest that you go quietly, and perhaps attend a different school" There was silence for a long while as I mulled over the corner I had just been backed into. "We simply cannot allow cheating of this magnitude to continue, especially while we are under the legal scrutiny that you have put us under."

I nodded quietly.

"Now, it is my understanding that you were on the collegiate soccer team. A notification will be sent to your coach later this week. I suggest you talk to him before it reaches his desk."

I nodded again.

"Off the record now," he said, and a woman who had been typing next to him stopped. I hadn't realized she was typing until the tapping of the keys had stopped. I had also forgotten that there were five people here other than myself and Mr. Stone. "I was appalled, but also quite impressed in a way, to see you wrote so many extensive papers for students in a wide array of classes that you yourself have never taken in such a short amount of time. It requires an uncanny amount of research ability, memory retention, time management to perform a feat such as that. Might I suggest, Peter, that you use this skill for a career there that does not involve crippling an entire university's educational system? Maybe journalism, or academic research, something along those lines." He looked at me over his glasses, and smiled with the corner of his mouth. It was hard not to smile back at him, because at that moment when I looked into his eyes I did not see the old man in charge of kicking me out of school, I saw the young man he was forty or fifty years ago, and something in his crooked smile told me that he had been in some trouble in his time, and there was a sort of respect between troublemakers who mean no harm.

"I'll consider it, sir."

"Good. Back on the record," the woman began typing again, "we will remove you from all your spring semester classes. You will still receive credit for the courses you took in the fall. You will not be allowed to apply to this, or any of its sister CUNY schools, for at least 10 years. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. This meeting is adjourned."

I got up, Mr. Stone reached across the table and shook my hand as he said, "Good luck, Peter."

"Thank you, sir." I walked out into the hallway.