I got a scholarship to a small private school to further my education after I finished high school; my family made a big deal of going to Daymare because we were poor, and no one else had gone beyond a high school diploma. Most of the kids there were pretty snobby, at least towards me, so I mainly stayed off to myself. I only had a couple of dates in high school, but at least I had some guys to hang around with- here I wasn't even making friends of any kind.
Eventually, after a semester and a half, I managed to make a friend with one the other boys. Paul was from a rich family, but he was a bit of a troublemaker in an oddball sort of way. That probably was just his way of rebelling. Thing is, it made him less popular, so he had come to be my friend.
We were hanging out on a Thursday night drinking some beers he had scored. Due to being a bit intoxicated, we picked a fight with some losers who thought they were better than us. Well, maybe they were better than us, but that is beside the point, we were in a bad mood and they were handy. By the time the cops arrived, it was a bit of a mess. We went down to get booked. After a bit I had sobered up and began to wonder how big a trouble was we all in. Turns out the two classmates Paul and I assaulted were rich like Paul, so the school interceded real fast and got us out. By Friday morning when I went to the dean's office to discuss my behavior, the other three had had their families smooth things over for them. The dean was pretty matter of fact; rich kids go back to class, poor kids generally go home in a situation like this. He told me I should be happy I did not end up in jail. I thought this was where he would end our meeting, but he then said go back to your dorm room and think about whether you want to stay here and try to succeed, or just give up and run home. In the meantime, he would contact the fathers of the boys I fought with. If either of them was willing to meet with me, perhaps we could work something out. No guarantees, in fact, it's a long shot, but it will be the only shot you have.
At about 5 that afternoon I got a call from a secretary at the dean's office, she said go to 126 Rayburn Street immediately; Mr. James Hall has agreed to discuss the matter with you. I did not even get a word out before she hung up.
Rayburn is in a gated community, just off campus, so I walked there in about 10 minutes. The house was an imposing red brick two story. Climbing the steps of the porch I noted the large dark brown wooden front door; typical old money, no wonder that punk thought he was better than me. I could not help but be intimidated. I tried to settle my nerves, but it was no use, I got more and more nervous. Taking a deep breath, I rang the doorbell, after a moment I completely panicked, turning I ran across the porch and started down the steps. I stumbled and fell. When I got up a man at the top of the steps addressed me.
"Hello, I'm James, I assume you are Phillip."
"Umm, yeah... I am Phillip, my friends call me Phil."
He stretched and turned his neck, then he very slowly said, "From what my son tells me, not very many folks call you Phil. From what I have observed, you are not on the track team."
"Well you are right on both counts I guess" turning to leave I added, "sorry to bother you."
Much to my surprise he then said calmly, "won't you come in?"
Somehow I pulled myself back up the steps and entered the house. He quickly guided me back through a long hall into a library. There was a slightly musty smell of wood from the large bookcases full of hardcover books which surrounded the room. This gave the room a cozy warm feeling even though the room was large. He told me to have a seat as he settled into a matching leather chair.
I cleared my throat and said. "Mr Hall, I am very sorry I started a fight with your son. Ummm, I ah I, you see ah"
Crap, this wasn't going well at all. Calm down and ask him for forgiveness, this is my only chance of staying in school. "Mr Hall I am very sorry I started a fight with your son, I don't know why it started. I mean I know I was drunk, but that is no excuse. I sure wish I could stay here at Daymare."
"Call me James. Do you want to stay at Daymare? Really? Why?"
"Huh, of course I want to stay. I need to stay. I have no where else to go." I stammered a bit confused by his questioning.
He took a deep breath, paused, then as he exhaled he stared at me, he seemed to be sizing me up. Evidently he decided to pursue the matter at least a bit further, so he clarified his previous remark.
"Look Daymare is a good school for networking, making friends and connections that will serve you well in the business world. However, you must know it is not on par with the state university for academics. My son tells me you don't have any friends here- no one calls you Phil here. You just keep to yourself, right?"
"Paul calls me Phil" I protested.
"Paul? Whooo! Look where that is getting you. Wait, now I'm sorry. Let's keep this conversation productive. I should not criticize you having a friend. Are you making connections that will help you be a success when you graduate?"
I was impressed with how he had analyzed and identified my lack of progress while at Daymare. My grades had been OK, but he was right, all around me people seemed to be making close friends fast, and just what I overheard told me that careers were fast tracking while I was huddling at my classroom desk by day and in my room by night. Suddenly I realized he was waiting for an answer.
"You're right, I have no friends here to help me succeed, I don't know what the problem is."
Just as I absorbed this he changed the subject.
