Page 82 of Molly's Mr. Wrong
Molly gave a nod. It seemed fair to her. A burden on whomever had to grade, but her marks were reasonable. The Simons were not.
“We would also like to have other papers included. A general sampling.”
The dean looked as if he was about to draw the line at that request, when Mr. Simon added, “We have it on good authority that one of Ms. Adamson’s students is passing her class despite a distinct lack of ability.”
“How do you know he’s passing?” Before Mr. Simon could answer, the dean turned to Molly. “Do you have any failing students?”
“Not at the moment.”
Mr. Simon smiled with a touch of cold smugness. “We want his papers graded blindly, too.”
“We can’t do that. Privacy laws—” The dean sucked in a breath and pressed his lips together. “May I have a moment alone with Ms. Adamson?”
The Simons exchanged looks, then rose to their feet. Molly didn’t look at them as they left. Instead she focused on prying her fingers loose from the arm of the chair. After the door closed behind them, the dean’s shoulders literally slumped. He was a nice guy, but by no means a tower of strength.
“Well?” he asked.
“I have a student that I’m differentiating for. He has a disability.”
“Diagnosed?”
She shook her head. “But it’s pretty obvious that he’s dyslexic.”
“Yet no diagnosis, so no Americans with Disabilities provisions. Are you grading him more easily than Jonas?”
“He’s working to the best of his ability. Jonas is skating.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Now Molly’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve been helping him. A lot.”
“Are his grades reflective of his abilities?”
“Not at the moment, but he’s improving.” She raised a hand. “I know. Not the answer to the question. No. They are not reflective.”
“You’ve put me in a bind here.” An odd expression crossed his face. “Please tell me this isn’t the student that Jonas accused you of being amorous with?”
Molly opened her mouth. Closed it again. She couldn’t truthfully say they weren’t amorous.
The dean put his elbows on his desk and pressed his fingertips against his bowed head. “I want to keep you.”
Molly’s stomach tightened. “I want to stay.”
He raised his head, his expression grim. “Two choices. You give all of your students a writing assessment to be completed by Wednesday. Or you get permission to share this student’s work. Either way, another instructor grades. I can tell you which one would be less work for said instructor.”
“I’m sorry about this,” Molly said. “I honestly was trying to get him up to the point where he could pass the class without discouraging him. He had years of work to catch up on.”
“I understand the motivation. However...it’s now a problem.”
Molly let out a sigh. “I have copies of his work. I can obliterate the name so as not to violate privacy laws.”
“Please have those to me at the end of the day.”
“Do you want me to continue this meeting with the Simons?”
The dean’s eyebrows lifted. “And risk getting into the log?” He shook his head. “You have class and I have waters to smooth.”
As did she. Waters to smooth. Confessions to make.
