Let me preface by saying this was a 4 credit, 4 week class during the summer of 2006. I was working two jobs, and frantically trying to finish my BA. I broke down under the stress, had a mixed episode, (anger/mania), and moved out of my house, broke up with my boyfriend, started this fight with this professor, and dropped out of the course. Amazingly, I held onto my two jobs. I think the episode was very short, four days perhaps, and so that's why i held onto my jobs. Anyway, I wrote this letter out of real concern that this GTF that I had for that class (who failed me out of spite) had chosen  to become a professor, and continue teaching, even though her rapport with her students was terrible.

I find it really concerning that a sociology professor would have such little sympathy for someone in the middle of a crisis. Honestly, at this point the woman disgusts me. I know I made a huge mistake, my last lesson of bipolar: don't choose legitmate authroity figures when manic. Take a tranq and get some sleep. But the fact that she didn't learn anything, that she continues to take from this that I am CRAZY for being upset with her for making the situation unnecessarily worse, is really quite SHOCKING to me.

I read this and then cried for hours. I'm scared for my next turn at academia, and scared that I won't be able to hold it together. However, I think I may have learned that last lesson the hard way, hard enough to stick with me in times of crisis. If anyone reads this, please comment and let me know what you think.

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Dr. Fridell-

I was enrolled in your class Sociology of Women at the end of summer term 2006. You may remember that I asked for you to submit a statement to the academic review committee, which you later rescinded and recanted. I ended up with a failing grade from you, which pulled down my GPA markedly. I am currently applying for graduate school in a masters of social work, and your name came up through my GPA averaging. It is extremely hard to explain that failing grade without disclosing personal matters that I would rather keep to myself. I, therefore, often think about what it would be like to have a 'W' on that transcript rather than an 'F'; and I think about the class you taught in 2006 often as well. I decided to write you this letter in hopes of shedding light on your future endeavors as a professor.

Your syllabus for the class was interesting, and indeed you required us to read some very interesting essays. However, the course was a bit schizophrenic and your lectures jumped from topic to topic without a cohesive theme or thesis. It was clear that you put very little effort into teaching the course, and that your dissertation was foremost on your mind. The class was undoubtedly the worst courses I had ever taken from a GTF. I was not alone in this thinking, and every single person in that class was dissatisfied. The class was small, so I had a chance to talk to everyone. What was interesting about the student reaction to this course was that without even seeking each other's opinions, we all loudly vocalized our concerns about the flawed teaching technique to each other.

As you probably do not remember, I dropped out half-way through the course because of an unexpected mental health crisis. In a fit of mania, I quite unwisely decided to make my feelings about your class known to you, and thus made myself vulnerable to your pity or lack thereof. The crisis was my last episode of an illness that I currently manage without the knowledge or special treatment of any employer or institution. My journey to this point was especially difficult, and unfortunately your lack of understanding, profound prejudice, and general unsuitablity to dealing with student affairs, has continued to make my life difficult. The failing grade was given out of exasperation and bitterness, which was unjustified. I was a week short of the final withdrawal date by the time my friends made it clear to me that I was not coming back from my mania. Because you recanted your letter to the academic review board, the failing grade stuck, and now I have to reap the rewards of both my and your spastic decisions.

I, obviously, have not forgiven you for what thoughtlessness you have effected on my future. But that is beside the point. What is the point of this letter, nearly three years later, is to remind you what power you hold over your students' futures. You have a responsibility to your students, to not only teach clearly and coherently but to also remain clear and consistent with your decisions. You must never let what happened to me with the academic review committee happen to any other of your students. If you feel that the student does not deserve an explanation to the academic review board, let your opinions be known before you write an explanation and then recant your sympathy. I understand that we all make mistakes, and I have certainly paid for my numerous mistakes over the years. What makes your mistake particularly unforgiveable is that you never once acknowledged that you had the power to affect my academic future profoundly and that you intended to use that power against me.

I imagine you have no regrets and that this letter strikes you as overly emotional or vendetta-esque. My bitterness towards you perhaps overshadows my original intent, which is to implore you to consider your students' futures over your career and your comfort. It is your responsibility to be fair and understanding, and the fact that you did not recogize that responsibility in 2006 makes me weary for your students now that you have chosen to teach as a profession. I hope you can make better decisions in the future, I know that I do.

- anne

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and her reply:

 <<<

2006.

Anne, I am requesting that you stop contacting me. I am not the source of your problems.

I am very concerned about my hundreds of students. I work terribly hard for their education, for them, and I spend incredible amounts of energy trying to help secure their welfare. I've passed hundreds of students with good grades and I've written recommendations for scores of student. They've used my help and gone on to do wonderful things. In sum, I do not exist for you or for your life story.

Unlike so many, many of my students, you were an execrable student...for whatever reason. You were almost always nasty and uncooperative on those very few initial days when you showed up to class; and otherwise, you simply were not in class. You did not do assignments. Your performance in that class was at an uncomplicated F level. You were part of the reason why that was the absolute worst class I have ever been faced with as a professor. However, I have  frankly mostly forgetten you and that class--it's not worth my time, which is full.

If your terrible performance in that class was indeed caused by a mental health problem, as seems probable from your invectives, your stalking, and your manipulative behavior, I cannot feel antipathy toward you. But unlike hundreds of other students I have taught, you never provided me one reason to feel the extra sympathy for you that you have demanded, usually in an uncivilized fashion. And because this has always been difficult for you to understand, let me say it clearly: I was supposed to evaluate your performance, because I was your professor. That is a fundamental part of the relationship between professor and student. The UO administration, which had access to a larger picture of your performance, caught a larger pattern in your wretched performance as a student in my class. They asked me if you did the course work. I simply said--and I did not waver--that you did not do the course work, which you did not do. At that point, the administration took whatever course of action they took--though that for some reason doesn't seem to interest you.

Be a grown woman and face up to the fact that in that situation that summer so long ago you failed. Not I. You may hate me, you may transfer onto me your shame and frustration, but that does not change the fact that it was you, it was always you who failed there. Once you grasp your own proven, human capacity for failure, you will begin to recognize that you can move on, regroup, and succeed.

Now: Cease focusing on me, cease harassing me, cease berating me, and I wish you well in your travels. I am not the vulnerable person that you imagine me to be. I know I'm a great professor and a very ethical, intelligent, caring person. I also know in the summer of '06 in Eugene, Oregon, you, Anne, were an outstandingly awful student. The next letter, if you persist in choosing to see and approach me as a vulnerable target, will be from my lawyer.

Mara Fridell

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Can you believe she actually wrote, "Once you grasp your own proven, human capacity for failure, you will begin to recognize that you can move on, regroup, and succeed." ??? I feel like I learned that so long ago... aside from the succeeding part! And the reason is because sometimes you can't regroup. Sometimes you fuck things so badly that it takes years to regroup. Only someone who is mentally ill(ustrious) would know this, I'm sure. And only someone who has never understood that they could have impacted that person's destruction would write this. What I cannot process here, and what she completely ignored, is that I had to learn this hard lesson. That my fuck up is MY fuck up forever. That I can't take it back, and that I run the risk of NEVER BEING ABLE TO CHANGE. I am angry at myself. Not at her. Fuck her. I just wanted to write her to give her a little perspective on her future students, now that she has chosen to be a teacher. I honestly am scared for them. If she's going to act like a ruler, then I'm concerned, because a despotic ruler is certainly worse than a benevolent one.

"I'm so angry. I don't think it will ever pass." -elliot smith