Dream a Little Dream

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REGULAR sleep patterns are finally restored and Rebel Girl has begun to dream again. Ahhh.

Dream #1: Get on the Bus!

Last night, Rebel Girl dreamt that the English department's recent proposal for Basic Skills money was funded—but with some changes. The committee decided that our meeting the needs of developmental writing students would be best met by the purchase of a tour bus. —And purchase a tour bus the committee did! It wasn't your ordinary tour bus, no: it was a replica of the Partridge Family bus. Driven by the enthusiastic English prof, K.M.—the bus also sported bunk beds and a full service kitchenette. No need to wait for the students to come to us. We will go to them!

Dream #2: Pancakes!
In this dream, Rebel Girl prepares for a colleague to visit her classroom. The colleague arrives as scheduled but instead of the usual composition classroom activity, Rebel Girl and her students are making pancakes. Rebel Girl cradles a large metal bowl filled with pancake batter and a helpful student is handing out spatulas as her colleague enters. Due to classroom shortages, Rebel Girl teaches this particular section of composition in a science lab (You know, you can teach writing anywhere!) and, that morning, she has decided to take advantage of the Bunsen burners to make pancakes.

The visiting colleague looks on with alarm.

Dream #3: When Androids Dream of Thesis Statements
As chair, Rebel Girl is supposed to visit the classrooms of part-time faculty and evaluate their performance. She doesn't do this nearly enough due to a number of factors including her own schedule and the measly 24 hours that are granted her each day. But, it seems that in her dreams, she has now begun to evaluate part-time faculty, which, even if she says so herself, is a fine use of dreamtime.

In this dream, Rebel Girl visits the classroom of a fairly new hire. The classroom is bright, the instructor energetic and challenging, the students engaged. All is well until mid-way through the session, Rebel Girl notices that the instructor is not a human, but instead a robot—or to be precise, an android. This moment occurs when the instructor bends over to pick up a board marker that has fallen to the floor; her long slit skirt falls open and Rebel Girl glimpses the gleaming hardware that is her leg. Suddenly all the other details she has noticed confirm the instructor's identity: the strangely glittering eyes, the oddly smooth pale skin, the steady, but slow pivots of her head, the synthetic quality of her dark helmet of hair.

Still, the android is a good teacher.

What is Rebel Girl to do? She wonders how she will explain to her colleagues in the department that she has hired a robot. She wonders what the contract has to say about this.

She wakes up.