In summing up most of the Professors I’ve encountered, or had the Honor and Pleasure of learning from Their expertise, I saved The Best, MY BEST, for last; PROFESSOR ANNE RICE, not to be confused with Ann Rice the Vampire Writer! She resembles Meridith, the very first host of the game show “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire”. What can I say, except that I genuinely LOVE HER. Professor Rice is the wearer of many Hats/Titles. She’s a Professor at Lehman College, CUNY, “Up In ‘The Bronx’ New York, Where The People Are Fresh (a lil’ ol’ school Curtis Blow for you)”, where She teaches Africana and Women’s Studies; She’s an Editor and Novelist that writes about the History of Slavery. PROFESSOR RICE is a Treasure Trove of Information. I swear, if it was at all possible, I would do one of the 3 things: 1, I would either look deeply into Her eyes; 2, kiss Her intensely; or 3, insert My USB Cord into Her USB Port/slide my Hard Drive into Her Terminal, all of which would enable me to download all of the Pertinent Information that She posses in Her Archives. Truthfully, I’d prefer to do all 3 at “The Same Damn Time (a lil’ new school Future for you),” that would ensure that I’d get deep into her data base, which would allow me to extract all the information in one session 🙂 . Reminiscent of the femal “Supreme Being”, Lee Loo, from the Sci-fi movie “The Fifth Element (1997)”, starring Bruce Willis.
If the Students, who were in My class, were able to read this they’d be saying “WHAT THE FUCK?!” Because it was well known, at least in my mind, that We shared a major dislike for one another! When She first started teaching at Sing Sing, in Pre-College, I sat right in front of Her, in the first row, because My hearing isn’t up to radar status any longer, and I would raise My hand to answer a question and She would straight ignore Me. She had Me pissed. Then one day She had the nerve to call on Me when I didn’t even raise My hand. I went off. I said something along the lines of “I don’t know why You’re calling on Me, I didn’t have My hand raised! I’ve sat here for weeks raising my hand trying to answer questions and You never once called on Me, so I stopped raising My hand.” The class was looking at Me like I had 3 heads. Not surprisingly, She requested to see Me after class. Once We started Our little “side bar”, the conversation, on My part, got a little heated because She said, “I never seen Your hand raised (with the most innocent voice she could muster. Shit, She had Me second guessing Myself).” I didn’t fall for it though, I went off again; I said, “I SIT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU AND YOU’RE TELLING ME, FOR WEEKS ON END, YOU NEVER ONCE SAW MY HAND RAISED?! Don’t patronize, or try to pacify Me; IT IS WHAT IT IS. You don’t EVER have to worry about Me raising My hand, or trying to answer any questions in Your class again!”
Well, as you can see, I let Her beat Me in the head, with some Reverse Psychology. After all, I didn’t want to be oust from the Program; and I didn’t want Her running to the Administration telling them that She was scared of Me, so I conceded in order to keep the peace. That was in 2014; I didn’t see Her again until Spring 2017, when She started teaching the actual College courses along with Pre-College. I had heard the whispers that she was going to start teaching the Advanced English courses, but I was hoping I would miss her. NOT. Guess who was my English 220 (The Short Story) and English 234 (Literature by Women) Professor? Yours truly. I said, “I’ll be damn, She’s going to fuck up my GPA.” I sat in the back this time, trying to be INCOG-NEGRO, hoping she wouldn’t recognize me, but I knew that was futile. I knew it was highly unlikely that She could, or would EVER forget me. I’d stake my life on it that no other student on campus and, especially, in any prison has EVER spoke to her in the fashion I did. Now, once She walked in the class- room and got settled in She said, “I see a lot of familiar faces in here.” She proceeded taking the attendance; once She reached my name She said, “Tobias, You were in My Pre-College English class weren’t You?” I nodded, reluctantly, in the affirmative; and I said to the student sitting next to Me, “OH BOY, here we go!”
Professor Rice stimulates Me mentally; when She’s speaking, it’s like We’re mentally copulating. I love to listen to Her impart Her wisdom. I get mentally aroused and I mentally ejaculate ideas by the end of class. I know what you all might be thinking, but NO. I’m not a PERV! I didn’t sit in class all night fantasizing about having sex with Professor Rice. But, I am a Human male though, and WE ALL fantasize about having sexual intercourse with Our female Teachers/Professors; it’s only natural. Shit, I wish the teachers were giving it up, back when I was in school, like they were giving it up the past 15 years. They would’ve never got told on; you could bet on that! She just had a way of discussing certain topics that made you feel as if you were Her equal, and not a student. I was happy I got the chance to tell Her the impact She’s had on Me. I didn’t say all the stuff I’m writing now, because that would’ve been very inappropriate. Professor Rice had started complimenting Me on My writing, but I was a little skeptical. I mean, I knew I could write, but I thought She was using the Jedi Mind Trick on Me. One day, as She was returning one of My Master Pieces, She said, “Tobias, You really need to seek higher learning when You reach society!” That was the first compliment and acknowledgement that I ever received from Her. I was shocked, surprised, and happy all “At The Same Damn Time”.
Until My next installment, number “X”, I can be reached via JPay: Jeffrey Tobias A704109; or P.O. Box 8107, Mansfield, Ohio 44901.