141 Water Street #503
10:35 PM
10 weeks left of the semester
Online isn't as bad as I thought it would be. It still disorients my routine, but it has its perks.
I know that it's easier for Adeola too, which makes it even more worth the transition.
For example, as soon as class ends, I switch off my camera and mic and I'm free to actually kick back and relax. I don't have to wear those ball-crushing slacks and I can appreciate Adeola's beauty all class long and they are none the wiser.
When I come back into my study, she's still in the conference room, writing the notes. I slowly sat down in my chair and just looked at her. Just admiring how she moves, how her eyes dart around the screen behind her adorable horn-rimmed glasses.
I loved to watch her in an environment that was outside of the usual.
Suddenly, she gets a phone call. Her ringtone sounds familiar to me but I can't quite place it.
She holds her phone in her hand, looking at its screen as it rings away. She doesn't want to answer but she knows she has to. She sighs deeply before answering.
Who is that, Adeola? Who's stressing you?
By the way she greets them, I immediately understand that she's speaking with her mother and now her temperament makes sense.
She's silent for a moment while her mother talks.
"Yes, mama." she answers, she removes her glasses and places her face in her hand, "I know that it's taking longer than expected but I'm making progress."
The garbled sound of her mother's voice over the phone suddenly becomes louder; so loud that Adeola moves the phone away from her face.
"I'm trying, mama..." she interjects, but she can hardly get a word in over her mother, "No! Please, I don't need you to do that. I can do it by myself. I will succeed, trust in me."
There's a gaping period of silence then her mother says one last thing and hangs up.
Adeola lets out another deep sigh and rubs her face with her hands in distress.
What did she say to you?
She picks up her pen to resume her work then suddenly looks up at the screen, straight into me.
"Dr. Kazem? Hello?" my breath catches in my throat, "Are you there?"
I don't answer. I don't move. I don't breathe.
After a moment she clicks around and starts typing into her computer.
She doesn't notice me...
She looks up at the ceiling and her beautiful eyes swamp with shiny, clear puddles.
You sweet girl, no, don't cry! Whatever she said about you isn't true. You're doing amazing. Everything will be just okay.
I know exactly how it feels to have parents from another country and another generation who don't understand how hard it is to succeed in contemporary society. Times have changed a lot since they were our age and they just don't get that. So, they make you feel inadequate and unaccomplished for things that are simply out of your control.
*Ding!*
She sent me an email. Oh, hayati, is that what you were typing? I can't say that you thinking to reach out to me while you are feeling upset won't go to my head.
From: <<aadebayo@stu.nusol.ca>>
To: <<zkazem@nusol.ca>>
Dr. Kazem,
I am delighted to see that you've adjusted to this transition rather well. I know that it certainly hasn't been easy for you.
I am reaching out to let you know that I finished reviewing last week's essays on natural law and legal positivism and I am a bit concerned that a large majority of the students misunderstood the assignment.
I know that you are not partial to giving extensions for due dates but in this specific case, we should really consider it.
It's important that we cut our students some sort of slack as we are all trying to make this huge adjustment. You and I are here to help our class after all.
I hope that we can reach an agreement and I will be patiently awaiting your response!
Adeola Adebayo
Education Assistant
Neruda University School of Law
I stared at the message and a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Her compassion and consideration reminded me of a part of myself that I had lost a long time ago. A sliver of the glass that couldn't be fitted back...