1. The Piece
In back of Jebbiz Hall she hears her mindchurning back 20 years--East Coast, graduate
studies and Foucault, the French “thinker” that changed lives, changed categories--
What is an Author, author takes back seat and all that…She groaned when she
remembered Mark Hawkins, her quant research prof who thought Michel Foucault was
a woman. What an idiot! She felt a supercilious surge of guilt and, okay, defensiveness--
well duh, because Michel Foucault isn’t MIKE-ALL FOW-KALT and he should know this.
The world is changing. She had used this as intellectual ammunition against him behind
his back and shuddered.“Will I ever get over this? What exactly is pissing me off?” As a
person who thinks way too much, it wasn’t about anger anymore, it was about fear. She
fidgeted with the coffee straw and looked around the room.
In front of her were colleagues: the supportive and misunderstood ones and the
Others--the ones who said FOW-KALT instead of FOO-KOW, but not really, because the
Others are supposed to know French. And these guys still think it’s a crime to end a
sentence with a preposition, worse, use an apostrophe in the’ wrong’ place. Standards
gone to hell.How we’ve let the English piece go’.
In front of her and beside her were colleagues of 20 years. Maja knew 19 years
beforehand in a conversation with the public school folk that the word piece would soon
make the scene in Higher Ed and she predicted she would hate it. All around her:
Hey, I wonder if the service learning piece will get covered.
You know, we have to do something about the diversity piece—at least the
justice piece.
Wow, the trip to Zambia was amazing. It completely fulfills the global piece.
Did the Igantian piece ever get into bridge to learning class for Malawi?
Maja nudges her absent British colleague who months before had helped her pour over
the COCA and BNC corpora and remembers how they howled when they decided that
the word piece-in fact-could be substituted with bullshit (e.g.,the diversity bullshit, the
social justice bullshit).She queries out loud:Do you think we could ever say the Theology
piece? Or the Philosophy Piece?The Science piece?The Chemistry piece?She remembers
that he’s not there and turns back to her coffee stirrer.
“Hey Maja”—the ever familiar nickname—“want a piece of gum?”
“---Hmmm? She looked up. Why? Do I have coffee breath?”
No response.
“Well do I? “Majawas feeling irritable.
--Of course not. I was just wondering where you were.
--Sorry…It was a piece….Thing? Bit? Problem? Concept? …She couldn’t finish her
sentence. Sarcasm—Cut. “

2. She was tired of trying. Among other things, tired of trying to finish sentences that
stretched back to, well, when Michel Foucault, or was it Satre was inciting
revolutions…or was it dying of AIDS? In her head, she sounded bitter, way too sensitive
about (the) language (piece)—the andpiece, both wordsprivileged over language. Why
shouldn’t she be bitter she justified? It’s a constant reminder of how entrenched, how
stuck this institution is. Don’t people hear themselves?
The Provost interrupted her thoughts.
“I am hopeful for this AY 2012-2013… AY--code to all of us—Academic Year.
We have made great strides in revising the core. Our Freshman numbers are now
balanced after … We are still highly ranked in US News for regional schools and
our...Even though we are currently unraveling a number of departments, and we are
shuffling deans, we still imagine ourselves as distinguished….blahblahblah
Majamumbled into her purse in search for tiger balm (Ben Gay for the head her
husband called it): Who owns the pie for said pieces? And where is the crust for
Christakis?
Lise looked at her friend again thoughtfully. “Maja, you really need a sabbatical.”
“Right. Right. I’m trying to write more fiction. I’m going to write more fiction dammit.
Take this whole academic thing less seriously.”
“Yeah, you told me. How is that going?”
Majafelt paranoid. Fuck, I have to quit repeating myself. I’m losing it.
I’m stuck. How the hell do you write fiction? How do I get started?
On cue as only best friends can: “You might try talking to Beth in English. She teaches
this stuff everyday—to undergrads!! If they can do it, so can you--tons of pubs-- Her
road to full, bee tee dub.”
“Odd”Maja mused, the irony not escaping her. Full professor--serious academic
commitment---bee tee dub.
Driving home Majaadmitted to herself that she wasseriously looking forward to sitting in
front of Hulu Plus and zoning out to Bill Maher bites. It certainly felt like the easier
piece.