When the last benefit of the doubt shatters

The psat two months I’ve been completely unproductive. Imagine how injustice feels like to a neurotypical brain. Now imagine the heat that would be generated if reality split like an atom and the heat death of the universe. Now imagine ossolating between those two extremes whenever I am unable to completely distract myself because ADHD and its love of the hyperfocus. To say the last two months have been hell between me going through it and my wife watching me go through it.

Two months ago, I contacted the Ministry and after ignoring my follow up email from two weeks ago, I finally called the Minister’s office to see what was going on. The secretary promised me to call me back after taking my number and then as soon as she hung up, I got another cowardly email.

Now, I don’t fault her for the news. It is extremely disappointing to know that the ministry has no authority to make sure that their degree program matches what the federal guidelines require as a minimum standard so that Canadian degrees can stand up with any degree of the same rank on the international stage.

But part of every single policy I read at the UBC requires every investigation to be TIMELY. I’ve never read whatever the hell the ministry’s policies are, but I’m sure that word will show up at least once or twice.

I could have already been moved on to the ombudsperson with a head start. Instead, I have to give the process another week so that the poor man I spoke to can read through the tonne of emails all saying, yes, we don’t care you’re quoting the actual policy you’re breaking. Our boss says we can break those policies so why are you harassing us with so many chances to at least give our anti-fuck up catchers a chance to catch numerous serious fuck-ups?

If the Minister had at least spoken to me so I could have explained how difficult it has been since my first week of actual class to have my rights as a student to freely participate in my program. I wasn’t trying to promote an extreme ideology. I was trying to discuss craft in a program I couldn’t quite figure out how it worked.

But instead, her secretary tried to gaslight me into believing that…what…I’d been hearing voices? If I was hearing voices in my head, the Ministry of Higher Education would at least be saying I’m really sorry that our system designed to catch improper conduct failed you so many times. I guess I just didn’t understand how many times you tried to get people to understand policies exist for a reason.

I was taught to follow policies because it was the only way to make sure that if someone got sick from Canadian blood again, it was only because it was so new we hadn’t been warned of it yet. But universities are self-governing institutions.

And when they don’t want to hear their complaints about themselves, the only thing stopping that gross violation of student rights is the anti-fuckup mechanisms the provost fucked up so hard that he broke the only system designed to keep this at the HR level of discipline.

And it was in that casual disregard of my humanity, both from the minister who couldn’t even bother to speak to someone who had gone so far to save the reputation of one of her premier schools I have to send emails of my attempts to the ombudspeople in batches.

Batches.

And then, the secretary was so used to her position of power that when she insists that what you hear isn’t what you hear because I said you didn’t hear it, she hasn’t spoken to anyone outside that power structure in a good long time. But I don’t answer to you, lady.

It’s disgusting you took two months to get back to me after three attempts over that time to at least get to the people I should have been in contact with. It’s disgusting you assumed I had to buy into your power trip that I didn’t see four goddamn lights. It’s disgusting that you promised to call me back while copying and pasting the letter into the inbox and then refused to answer the phone. Say what you mean and do it. There’s a policy for that, too, I’m sure.

Is expecting a molecule of professionalism at any level dealing with education in BC too much? I haven’t seen a shred of it.

Anyhow, I realized in my rage bath how I could show the real power of my protagonist.

So thanks. I’m back to writing again.

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