The Chaplain's Daughter Read Online Free
Author: K.T. Hastings
“Yes, Miss Boylan. Do you have something to offer or are you just drying your nail polish?”
The rest of the class laughed at this rare departure from the planned lecture. Alyssa flushed red.
“I’m not wearing any nail polish right now, Professor Bakewood, but if I were it would be because I was predisposed to wear it through advertising and peer pressure, and not because my genes forced me to do so.”
Henry Bakewood had been teaching at Lewis and Clark Community College for almost 26 years. His usual routine consisted of waiting for tenure and delivering the same lectures that he had been offering for years. That said he appreciated a little give and take with the students now and again. He nodded appreciatively at Alyssa’s rejoinder.
“Well played, Miss Boylan. You obviously have something to add to the topic of nature versus nurture. Go ahead, we’re all ears.”
Alyssa placed her palms on the arm of her chair and leaned forward. Her clear voice rang out with authority. “To assign the blame for our actions on nurture is just another way of letting bad behavior off the hook. What did that comedian say, way back when? The devil made me do it? The problem with the world today is that people in our society aren’t held accountable for the choices that they make! Why do some people make good choices and others don’t? It’s because some people believe in right and wrong and the rule of law. Others believe that social mores are just something to be gotten over. To believe that everything is the result of an unfortunate upbringing is a copout and the result of a permissive culture gone to seed!”
Alyssa sat down to the sound of thunderous…silence. Professor Bakewood took his glasses off and cleaned them carefully before answering. His voice was gentle when he at last responded to Alyssa.
“That is a very interesting point of view, and one that is shared by a lot of people. I would ask, though, that you do some research into the human genome project. Scientists are discovering that there is very little difference in how we are formed genetically. It may be inconvenient to realize that the environment in which one is raised has a great deal to do with how someone blends, or doesn’t, into society, but there is fact behind the theory anyway.”
Professor Bakewood stopped Alyssa with the raised palm of his hand when she started to answer again. “We’re out of time for today. Drop by my office if you would like to continue this discussion. For now, though,” he said indicating the class as a whole, “You may go.”
Alyssa held her books against her chest as she made her way out of the lecture hall. She had wanted to challenge Professor Bakewood further but didn’t have time now. She only had 15 minutes to make it to her job in the campus bookstore. Alyssa worked there 15 hours a week as a way to supplement the student loans and scholarships that paid most of her tuition at South Sound Community College in Olympia.
Alyssa had a plan for her future. This was her second year at SSCC. All of her credits were going to transfer to a four year college, probably the University of Washington, next year. She wanted to study criminal law as an avenue to getting a job as a prosecutor in the district attorney’s office. After that she wanted to be a judge. Only 8% of the Superior Court judges in Washington State were female. That, in her opinion, was a crime in and of itself.
Still thinking of what she said, might have said, should have said, and was glad she didn’t say in class, Alyssa arrived at the bookstore. She told herself that she would look for something on the human genome project when she got off work. “Might as well put that 25% employee discount to work,” she thought as she stepped behind the register to relieve her predecessor at the post.
Alyssa was a bit of a Daddy’s
The rest of the class laughed at this rare departure from the planned lecture. Alyssa flushed red.
“I’m not wearing any nail polish right now, Professor Bakewood, but if I were it would be because I was predisposed to wear it through advertising and peer pressure, and not because my genes forced me to do so.”
Henry Bakewood had been teaching at Lewis and Clark Community College for almost 26 years. His usual routine consisted of waiting for tenure and delivering the same lectures that he had been offering for years. That said he appreciated a little give and take with the students now and again. He nodded appreciatively at Alyssa’s rejoinder.
“Well played, Miss Boylan. You obviously have something to add to the topic of nature versus nurture. Go ahead, we’re all ears.”
Alyssa placed her palms on the arm of her chair and leaned forward. Her clear voice rang out with authority. “To assign the blame for our actions on nurture is just another way of letting bad behavior off the hook. What did that comedian say, way back when? The devil made me do it? The problem with the world today is that people in our society aren’t held accountable for the choices that they make! Why do some people make good choices and others don’t? It’s because some people believe in right and wrong and the rule of law. Others believe that social mores are just something to be gotten over. To believe that everything is the result of an unfortunate upbringing is a copout and the result of a permissive culture gone to seed!”
Alyssa sat down to the sound of thunderous…silence. Professor Bakewood took his glasses off and cleaned them carefully before answering. His voice was gentle when he at last responded to Alyssa.
“That is a very interesting point of view, and one that is shared by a lot of people. I would ask, though, that you do some research into the human genome project. Scientists are discovering that there is very little difference in how we are formed genetically. It may be inconvenient to realize that the environment in which one is raised has a great deal to do with how someone blends, or doesn’t, into society, but there is fact behind the theory anyway.”
Professor Bakewood stopped Alyssa with the raised palm of his hand when she started to answer again. “We’re out of time for today. Drop by my office if you would like to continue this discussion. For now, though,” he said indicating the class as a whole, “You may go.”
Alyssa held her books against her chest as she made her way out of the lecture hall. She had wanted to challenge Professor Bakewood further but didn’t have time now. She only had 15 minutes to make it to her job in the campus bookstore. Alyssa worked there 15 hours a week as a way to supplement the student loans and scholarships that paid most of her tuition at South Sound Community College in Olympia.
Alyssa had a plan for her future. This was her second year at SSCC. All of her credits were going to transfer to a four year college, probably the University of Washington, next year. She wanted to study criminal law as an avenue to getting a job as a prosecutor in the district attorney’s office. After that she wanted to be a judge. Only 8% of the Superior Court judges in Washington State were female. That, in her opinion, was a crime in and of itself.
Still thinking of what she said, might have said, should have said, and was glad she didn’t say in class, Alyssa arrived at the bookstore. She told herself that she would look for something on the human genome project when she got off work. “Might as well put that 25% employee discount to work,” she thought as she stepped behind the register to relieve her predecessor at the post.
Alyssa was a bit of a Daddy’s
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