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CampusDebate

A debate class in Texas circa 2004.

One of the campus cops is taking the class, taking advantage of the employee discount.

He is paired with a student and they are assigned a debate topic. The professor wants to see some sparks fly, so he assigns weed legalization.

The campus cop figures that it's an easy A and reuses material from a DARE lecture he had to give to a high school recently.

The student takes the challenge and prepares fairly well, finding medical and psych papers, the lowering of the crime rate in countries where it has been legalized, and so on.

The debate happens. The student wins it -- she was better prepared, and that's all there is to it. The cop arrests the student on stage and "somehow" finds weed on her. The professor tells the cop to back off or he'll fail him, this isn't appropriate behavior in a classroom. The cop also arrests the professor, for interfering.

The other students have no idea what to do with this.

Now the student and professor are being processed in the campus police office. The office cop really, really doesn't want to deal with this.

The professor is quickly released, but points out that it'd be best if he escorted the student back to her dorm as well. The arresting cop has a problem with this. In the end, the student spends the night in jail.

The next edition of the student newspaper is, obviously, all over this.

Stupidly, this whole thing actually goes to trial. Unsurprisingly, half the class testifies that the student didn't have weed on her, but this is Texas and it's a few years before smartphones, so the word of a police officer is still worth a lot. This is a bench trial, so the judge finds the student guilty, sentences her to ten hours of community service, and she ends up spending a weekend working at a food bank; no big deal there.

The professor, understandably, drops the cop from the class.

The cop threatens to sue the university if he doesn't get a passing grade for this class, and the police union backs him up.

The professor tells his student that, in protest, he's going to give everyone a C except for the cop, who will get an A+, to make it obvious that this is happening under duress. Since the debate class is only worth 3 credit hours, the students, including the one who won the debate, agree.

The cop had planned to take advantage of a program that allows university employees to take evening classes at a deep discount to get a degree; taking two classes a semester, he'll be done in six years, which works well for him since there's no extra commute involved and can plan his classes and his shifts together easily. He quickly finds, after this, that when he tries to enroll for anything next semester, he's politely told by most profs that they are uncomfortable having him in their classroom. One class he manages to register, this is Texas so there will be some right-wing university profs, but the other is a lost cause, and he will need it to graduate. Online classes aren't an option yet.

Again, the police union backs him up, all but demanding to the department's dean that SOMEONE let him take the class.

What develops next is a "Reverse Ruby Bridges" situation. Within the next two weeks, every other student drops the class, and is accommodated by shifting schedules by one or two hours, or similar classes ending up with a few more students.

And so one day the cop walks into the classroom to find that, other than the instructor, he's alone.

The cop's wife says that hey, you're getting private tutoring like some fancy prince from Europe or something, take advantage of it. But the cop can't.

He quickly notices that the professor answers his questions the minimum amount necessary, makes no small talk, answers any emails as if they were a form letter, and generally gives a massive cold shoulder. He also notices, after a bit of initial elation, that every assignment he turns in comes back with a 100 for a grade.

The other problem, of course, is that the cop might as well be carrying a neon sign pointing at him saying "I'm that asshole you heard about!"

Frustration during his rounds causes him to become stricter with things like people parking in the wrong areas, being loud, and yes, smoking the occasional joint. It gets to the point where students run away from him, staff don't talk to him, and teachers exchange the minimum amounts of word necessary.

His direct boss finds this useful because he can give him all the asshole jobs that someone has to do (deliver a parking ticket to a professor, for example), which, naturally, doesn't help.

Since this removes that group of chores from his colleagues, they're actually a tiny bit supportive, but pretty much the only place on campus where "the cop" isn't a pariah anymore is within the small campus police office.

Next semester. Incidentally, at the end of it, the student that started this whole thing graduates. The cop blames her, but it's been made clear to him that it's best if the two never cross paths again. The cop has two more years to go to get his degree.

This time, he has absolutely no problems signing up for class, but he suspects there's a very good reason why. And he's right: the very first class session, before there's even an introduction, everyone else who was assigned to the same class by the registration system stands up, shakes hands with the instructor, and leaves.

During a literature class, taught by an older lady who was around during the civil rights era and is known for being a very maternal teacher in general, he finds that one of his midterm assignments -- again a perfect 100, despite the fact that he turned in the bare minimum -- has a gold star on it. He feels mocked, and all but roars in frustration at the instructor.

She stammers, "I always give a gold star to the top grade, like in elementary school, I-I just think it's cute, I graded forty papers yesterday and didn't think about..."

She's clearly terrified of him. Doesn't help that she's black and he's white. Despite this, she's at her desk a couple days after, although she's barely squeaking out her lessons.

A few weeks before the student that started this is due to graduate -- her own college experience, aside from that incident, was fairly average; she's got a job lined up somewhere in New England -- the cop does confront her.

She's terrified, to the point where she drops her wallet and keys and holds her hands above her head.

The cop stares for six very long seconds. "Help me" he says. "Help me. Please. You're leaving, but I'm in hell for another year and a half."

These two have shared a teacher, the lady who gives gold stars. She didn't get one, incidentally. Her experience with that teacher was much different; a full classroom, and slightly less coursework done because the students took the opportunity to learn living history from her, as well as literature. Forgiveness can be an act of power, was one of the lessons taught in that class.

"I forgive you" she says "but it doesn't do much for you, like you said, I'm leaving, and I don't have any power over anything, I'm not even on the school paper team anymore. I think you should apologize to everyone. Why don't you ask the administration to set aside five minutes for that near the beginning of the graduation ceremony? It's probably good for the professors, too."

The administration are actually very happy to go with this; one, it solves a situation that has been going on long enough; two, it gets the campus cops to stop throwing weight around too much, as they have been doing, they're support workers after all; three, it's a feel-good story that will help local sentiment.

The only people against it are the police union, who feel that this undermines their authority. They won't sanction the cop from doing this, but he can expect less support in the future.

He takes it.

The graduation ceremony usually starts with small awards and recognitions -- half are sports related, the other half tend to be about school-affiliated people or alumni who got recognition, such as last year when an alumnus made Admiral in the Navy and was invited back to give a brief talk -- and it's easy for the planning committee to find three minutes for the cop to apologize.

The literature teacher shared by him and the graduating student even offers to proofread his speech. "You're just going to give me a 100 without reading it" he says bitterly. "I won't", she answers, "and no, I always do read everything turned in to me, including your work."

The graduation ceremony is a blur of caps, crying abuelas and little brothers, loudness, people smuggling in confetti to throw when "their" kid walks, last-minute small snafus, people who forgot their caps or broke their gowns... Like every year, really.

And it's also the three most emotionally charged minutes of the cop's recent life. He's got to say "Yes, I was wrong, and I'm sorry" to 1200 people. And his wife is there.

"You know, if this is too much for you, don't, you got a good job, and this mess will be over soon" she told him, with practicality. "But, it's three minutes now, or three semesters starting again September."

He's scheduled to go between the announcement that the softball team took home third place in state championships and a brief message from the estate of a wealthy alumnus who just passed away, about the donation of a new floor for the main library. Not things that get a lot of attention. But people have seen the schedule, and sure enough, that's 2400 eyes on him.

“I know that an apology won’t undo what happened. It won’t erase the anger or the frustration that came from that day. But it’s important to me that I say this to all of you. I’ve spent the past year dealing with the consequences of my actions, and I’ve learned that the only way forward is to take responsibility, to own my mistakes, and to try to make things right. That’s what I’m trying to do today.

We are here as stewards of trust, not enforcers of authority. I forgot that. Anyone else who has done what I did would have been removed from the premises long ago. I recognize my privilege.

To the student I wronged, I want you to know that I’m truly sorry. To the professors and staff I’ve made uncomfortable, I apologize to you as well. I hope this can be the first step toward moving forward.”

Even in his dress uniform, the cop looks like shit; he's gained a bunch of weight so that the uniform barely fits, his eyes are sunken and have bags under it, and he's lost five years of hair in one. People knows that he's been miserable.

The student who the cop harassed at the beginning of this, sitting down waiting for her turn to walk the stage at the graduation proper, stands up and shouts, "We're good, have a good life, chill out from now on please." She's wearing a very visible head-shop shirt with a marijuana leaf on it under her gown, and makes sure everyone sees it, with the obligatory wave of chuckles. This would be against the rules of decorum for the graduation, technically.

A different campus cop approaches her, but the guy still on stage raises a hand."Let's just... Let's just not, all right? Happy graduation, guys." The other officer stops.

Come September, the cop registers for his usual two evening classes. He's still getting the shit jobs -- the union didn't like him apologizing -- but by now he's used to it.

First class of the semester; it's normally offered as a day class, so most of the people taking the evening one are either older folks who work, or remedial students. One of them sits next to the cop. Will people leave in protest again?

"You're that guy, right?" asks the student.

"Yeah" the cop harrumphs.

"You're not gonna go all Hot Fuzz on us, right?" The movie has just come out.

"Nah."

The student nods. The professor comes in, syllabi are distributed, and... that seems the end of it. One person leaves -- a mom who, apologizing profusely, grabs her syllabus and rushes out mumbling something about her cousin filling in for a babysitter.

Looks like purgatory is over.

A few months later, midterms. The cop is going home after a very long day -- a full shift, then a bunch of paperwork, then both classes.

His wife gently chides him about his GPA having dropped like a drunk squirrel from last year, but they're both fine with it; Cs get degrees, and at least now the grades are real, not given out of protest or fear.

While this guy is in fact still getting the crap jobs, he's mellowed out a lot, and this in turn has had an important repercussion -- after catching a student doing opioids, he was able to get her parents to come pick her up, and convinced them to let her apply to the school again after a rehab program back in her home state. Further, he refused to charge her with anything, to prevent her having a record that might get in the way of reenrollment.

The dean of students proposed him for a commendation -- and a bonus -- after the matter was discussed internally, which changed the campus police's general attitude just a tiny bit. At the end of the day, their badges come from the state but their salaries come from the university.

The police union aren't happy, but are they ever?

And so, little by little, things get better.

Fourteen months later, the cop's own graduation is uneventful; he feels a little silly walking the stage with kids, and instead requests to be on duty that day. And so that's how it goes. He's called over by the dean a few minutes after the end of the ceremony, when workers are starting to pack up, and walks over -- across the stage, as it happens. The dean hands him his diploma, and the cop notices that his wife is one of the few folks still in their seats. She managed to get a picture of him walking the stage after all!

He's going to keep working there for another year, then apply for a detective position with the city, now that he has a degree.

Long term, this whole mess got the campus police department to chill the fuck out a little bit. Seniors leave, freshmen come in, and the whole thing is largely forgotten, very rarely found out when someone goes through old issues of the school paper.

This story has a kernel of truth in it. I was the student. I wasn't arrested, and the campus cop didn't plant weed on me, but he did spend about half an hour peering into the window of the wreck of a car that I had at the time... only to realize when I got to the car, that I never bothered locking it, so he could just have opened the door and looked inside.

For the record, IRL he got a C and I got an A in the debate class. While I was in favor of legal weed back then, I have yet to smoke a joint, but since I live in California, I can have weed delivered by an app.