Learning Curve

Chapter 1

"Time is up."

Shyla exhaled. It felt like a breath she'd been holding for the entire hour. Half. At best, she thought.

"Pencils down, please hand in your exams."

This was not going well. She knew she was having trouble with the class, and she'd tried just about everything she could think of to do better. She'd tried the myriad items of advice her friends had offered too.

Her hand shook as she delivered the exam into the professor's hands. They made eye contact. She broke the eye contact, feeling ashamed to look at him. Why? It's just an exam, she told herself, it doesn't make me any less of a person. She forced herself to resume the eye contact. The professor smiled slightly, trying to offer some compassion. It didn't matter how he looked at her, her problem was on the paper, not in the eye contact. She broke away again, and walked out.

Chapter 2

Shyla was a blond girl, 20 years old, and a college sophomore. She was a little tall for a girl, at about 5' 8", and slim. Her family had paid for her to come to the college, not a particularly wealthy family but hard working. She was the eldest of her 3 siblings, and felt a particular obligation to succeed in school to set a good example for them to follow as they entered into their adult lives. She had confessed her academic difficulties to her next eldest sibling, Jacob, who was trying to offer her advice on the phone.

Shyla sat at her desk, listening patiently.

"Yeah, Jacob."

"Yeah."

"I know... I've already tried that."

"Yeah, I will give that a try."

They said a few more pleasantries and then her call was done.

Shyla looked down at her desk. A few scrawled notes and numbers conveyed her situation well. She'd analyzed her predicament. She was doing poorly in 2 classes, and one, College Algebra, was looking like failure. She needed to solve the problem. The previous semester she had passed all her courses, but barely. She needed a certain GPA to maintain her scholarship, to remain in school. She was doing well in her remaining 2 classes, but failing any one class would do her in.

She'd been open about her situation, at least after the initial shell shock from the first few signs of trouble. Her friends had offered her advice, good advice. She'd tried it all. Jacob's latest advice didn't seem much different. In fact, she'd already tried his suggestion. She was at the point where she was trying conflicting advice, attempting one thing before a different friend would convince her of something else.

Her parents were not yet aware of her predicament, only Jacob and almost all of her friends. She couldn't afford to fail out of school. It was much, much too important to her family, her friends, and to herself. She would not accept failure, and was not going to quit looking for the solution, but she was running on empty.

For a time, the fear of her situation worsening had driven her to study harder, to dig in. But, she quickly moved past that point, such that the fear of her failing precluded her focus, her ability to study. Then, her latest exam... The fear had prevented her from even demonstrating the knowledge she

had

learned.

She lowered her face to her table, and began to cry again.

Chapter 3

Edan was a relatively large man of 25 years age. He had generally dark features, including black hair. He worked a 9-5 job as a surveyor, spending part of his days outside, the rest in an office working on drawings, calculations, or sometimes idle.

Edan sat at the bar with his friend, Mark, who was an architect that he often interacted with in his job.

"You need to get laid." His friend remarked.

"Yeah, I know." He replied, unimpressed with the obvious contribution to his current state.

"Why don't you just pick up a girl already? Or if you're waiting for a good one, get to dating man!"

"Why is it that being single is such a bad thing?"

"Because it sucks?"

He looked over at his friend in an effort to convey his disgust along with his statement. "It sucks by itself, so why does everyone want to make it worse with comments like yours?"

"Uh. Sorry man." Mark wasn't being real deep tonight. Or responsive.

"What if I just wanted to be single for a while? Is that so bad?"

"Well, it hurts your credibility, you know. Girls start to wonder why you are single. You start to doubt yourself. Most people want to un-single themselves just to keep up appearances, and then they work on improving the situation after they've got that much."

Finally, Mark was beginning to have some thoughts. Mark wasn't a bad guy, and he was good for explaining his viewpoints, but Edan disagreed with him a lot. "Hmm.. Doesn't make much sense to me. You are just constraining yourself into a relationship that you don't care about. Finding a girl you like is hard enough without extra limitations. Plus, it's using the other person."

"Well, it's pretty easy to find a girl that doesn't mind getting used. As long as she gets a few things she wants out of it, most of them don't care."

"Well, I don't represent women as a whole, or an individual one, so I'm not going to agree or disagree with that stereotype. Good to know you have no problem making decisions for the opposite sex though."

"It's not a decision, just.. an observation."

"If it affects your judgments, and it's an 'observation' that you've made yourself, isn't it basically a decision?"

"Hmm... Yeah well alright. But it's an observation I have observed several times so I'm sticking with it."

They sat quiet for a minute. They both had another sip of their beers in the relatively quiet establishment.

"Did you even come up with that yourself, or was that someone else's observation first?"

"I came up with it!"

Sure, Edan thought. "Cattle mentality."

"What?"

"You think like the herd."

Mark was annoyed with his friend, but not really angry. "Screw you buddy." He sipped some more beer.

"You know what I don't understand?"

"What's that?"

"People who do something dramatic with their appearances because they want to 'express themselves'. But then they pick from the same kinds of appearance alterations as everyone around them. They're doing nothing unique, the only thing they are expressing is that they want to fit in. And to top it off, some of the things they use to "express themselves" are dramatic. Like those giant ear piercing things that's the fad right now."

"Yeah, that's absurd stuff right there. I don't understand it either; they all just end up looking or acting the same, nothing unique or original about them."

"And tattoos. Same thing. I hate tattoos."

"Hey, I got a tattoo, and I didn't do it just to repeat everyone else."

Edan responded in a sincere tone, the sarcasm limited to just the words, "That's true. You tend to do things with consideration -- you did it to fit in with your friends."

"Exact—hey, no I didn't!"

Mark looked over at him, getting annoyed with his friend's damper mood and ragging on him. He considered the rough week he knew his friend had been through, but his annoyance was rising. "What about you? You're a bit of a hypocrite, aren't you? It's not like you don't do things that fall into the 'cattle mentality'."

"True. I do some things to keep up with everyone else. But you know, and even though I'm gett'n after you, I think you are pretty good about this too, I try to consider what the herd wants me to do and decide for myself."

"Well, I think we all go through that process. It's how willing you are to part with the herd on each decision that I think makes the difference."

"You know, even people who are

supposed

to part with the herd don't do it very often. Take our job for example, we're all supposed to be looking for ways to make things fit, or to accomplish more, make the space that we're giving do more. We're supposed to be original, supposed to come up with ways to do things differently, but we have our very own typical pecking order, all the usual tendencies to keep up with the guy next to us out of some silly fear."

"Yeah, I think you're right, it's all about fear. A lot of our fears are small, we don't really identify them as such. And we'd feel overwhelmed if we tried to confront every little thing, so we just let a lot of things slide and go with the flow rather than contemplate every little thing."

Edan sat quietly pondering for a bit. "Yeah, I follow the crowd a bit too. But --" he gestured his beer towards his friend's arm where he knew the tattoo was covered, and let a little smirk show. "-- at least I'm not branded."

"Hey hey. It's not a branding."

"What is that thing you got on your arm, anyway?"

"First of all, it's on my side, not my arm. It's tucked away, so I can cover it if I want. And, for your information, I picked exactly what I liked. I put a lot of thought into it. It's a butterfly."

Edan finally broke from his beer to peer over at Mark. "A butterfly?"

"Yes, a butterfly thank you. How's

that

for parting from the herd?"

"You parted with the herd just to go join the cowgirls."

"Hey hey, now the ladies love this tattoo. A real man would be impressed with my uniqueness."

Edan laughed and lifted his beer in acknowledgement of his buddy's manliness.

Chapter 4

"I don't know what to do."

Edan sipped at his cappuccino, and looked away. "Sorry Shyla, sounds like your friends have already offered plenty of advice and it isn't helping."

"I'm getting desperate."

Edan sat silently a moment, thoughtful. "Desperate not to become stigma." He said softly, speaking away from her.

Shyla wasn't listening very carefully, she was too emotional. And she wasn't sure that she'd heard him right, "Excuse me? I don't know what you mean, stigma?"

"Stigma. Something that people commonly fear or avoid doing, thinking, saying, etc."

"I don't follow. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh, sorry. I've just been in a bitter mood the last couple days. Just my strange views, nevermind."

She paused a moment. Did she want to know? Might as well. "No, please, I'd like to hear your views."

"You're not afraid of being unable to perform the algebra, as is the goal of the class. You're afraid of receiving a mark of failure which sets you apart from everybody else. Like a mark of stigma upon you."

She wasn't sure she liked where he was going with this. Was he comparing her to some dumb girl that just wanted to follow the pack? That she cared nothing about the class, only the grade? She felt insulted. But, she was not the type to say anything. She'd just note how rude he was and rememb—

"Not all problems are solved the same way for different people. Some problems require a very unique approach, which requires overcoming stigma."

He was pushing it. If he was going to persist, she was going to speak up. "I know that. Are you saying that I just do what everyone does and can't think for myself?"

"No, no I.. Sorry. I just meant.. Well, I mean all your friend's advice isn't working, and all their advice is what works for them, and is sort of just the typical selection of solutions to the problem you're having. 'Gotta study more', as if that isn't obvious, or, 'take practice exams', and 'don't go out on weekends'. Advice like that. I didn't mean it as an insult, really."

Well, he was quite apologetic, but he obviously still thought her incapable of thinking for herself. He feels bad for saying it, and he sort of explained what he meant, but he still thought it. Oh well, even this cute boy thought her an idiot. When she failed her class, everyone would know it was true.

She tapped her cup. She considered getting up and heading back to the study hall. She looked at him. He was still looking away, avoiding eye contact. He never did that. It was strange. Well, she thought, he probably just feels bad for insulting me.

She was already incensed. She had hoped to win this boy's attention, but if this is what he thought of her, what the hell. Might as well rip the wound all the way open. "So, you think I'm too uncreative to solve this problem then? Great, bad at math and uncreative..."

"No, that's not what I meant!" He made eye contact finally, and that confused her. There was no look of arrogance, no contempt in his eyes. She wondered if maybe she was reading him wrong after all. No, she didn't think so, he just feels guilty for having his meaning caught more directly than he'd expected. "Ok, an example. Take Robin Hood."

"Robin Hood?" She almost raised an eyebrow. How the hell did they get to Robin Hood?

"Yeah. He was a thief. Bigtime thief. There's this stigma that stealing is bad. People didn't want to steal because there was a stigma against it, and when they did steal, they felt so bad about it that they kept it secret. But in the situation he was in, at least according to the stories, he did it proudly and shared his violation with lots of people. We think of the story from the back to the front, knowing he's the hero right away, but if you think about it from his perspective, it took a while of doing that before he went from being treated like the scum of the earth, a common, selfish, thief, to becoming a hero. He had to go against stigma, endure it, and come out ahead on the other end."

"So... I'm too cowardly to go against the grain, and

that's

why I'm failing College Algebra?" She was already moving to grab her purse, she had had enough of this. She wasn't expecting multiple forms of scorn from her friend, this attractive guy, over failing one exam. She'd come to him to get his perspective, and just because she liked talking to him, but this was done.

"No, no that's not what I mean! Alright let me get a better example." She was barely listening as she rose, and he could see that she was offended. He had to explain himself in a hurry or he risked her forever remaining offended. It was time to make a stronger point, so he was going to have to put himself out there a bit. "Bondage."

The word caught her ear. She looked at him. "Bondage?" Really, she thought? If this guy digs his hole any deeper, she was going to up the score from walking out on their coffee meeting to slapping him.

"Bondage. You know, BDSM types of things. See, got your attention didn't it?"

She sighed. Ah, so he's trying to hold her attention. Something dramatic to get back in the game, she concluded.

"It's not something you would think of. What if bondage was the solution to your problem?"

She waited for him to continue. Realizing he actually had posed the question, she played along to see the end of this. "How can bondage be the solution to my problem?"

"Ah, yes, there's my point! Not that you are cowardly and afraid of the solution, as if you were Robin Hood but too scared to step up to the plate and steal. But bondage has stigma, so you don't even think in those terms. Nobody considers the solutions that have stigma associated with them. Not because..." He searched for words to try to explain himself. He had become quite involved in his explanation, a bit more engaged than she had ever seen him. "Not because you just follow the crowd or are uncreative, but because nobody thinks in those terms. People try to be creative within the choices that they are accustomed to thinking in terms of. They don't often run things through their mind that have stigma on them."

She was all geared up to step over and slap him, except that she was confused. Now she was trying to process what he was saying.

"Ok... so I'm not uncreative... I just don't think in terms of the solution?" It still sounded bad, but as it came out of her mouth, it was not insulting. It might have been a valid point. Actually, whether it was Robin Hood or not, she couldn't deny it actually – she obviously hadn't thought in terms of the solution to her problem since she was still failing. It still had a certain ring being said out loud by someone though, a connotation with it perhaps. It still felt like the fine edge of insulting.

"And I'm not just following the crowd, even though the crowd put the stigma there... I'm still confused." She thought she might be seeing some of what he was heading at now, but wanted him to clarify so she could figure it out and be sure he hadn't been insulting her.

Edan, on the other hand, didn't notice the softening in her words as she started to follow his point, as she started to reason that he hadn't actually meant to insult her. He saw her still standing, ready to bolt, and still just as agitated. He scrambled to explain. He'd brought up bondage, of all things, he thought to himself. Bondage, well, he's in now, he's got to make good on

bondage

of all things, can't turn away from it or this is done. He was already all in.

"What if you need that Algebra whipped into you in the bedroom?"

She was shocked, now. Just when she was about to accept his explanation and begin understanding what he had meant... he had just gone into a whole new place. She was speechless. She didn't need to say anything though, he was just as shocked at having said it and jumped full bore into explaining himself. "Everyone learns different. Now, I don't really know your problem that well, but just as a form of example I'm trying to explain -- What if what worked for you is something very non-standard, something with stigma associated with it?

Not all things with a stigma are actually bad. Bondage has a stigma because.. I don't know, all sorts of reasons. People getting hurt. Pain. Doesn't seem romantic, doesn't exactly fit into your typical Hollywood mainstream storyline." He was hovering off-topic, but he had to explain himself fully at this point, every side element. Besides, the shock had successfully thrown her off enough that he actually had a few moments to explain in detail.

"Most of the people who get into bondage follow what they've heard or seen, they throw on leather, they try to dominate, they really aren't creatively exploring something original, they're jumping along the same path as the guy before them, and

that

guy put a bad reputation – a stigma – to his bondage. I don't know, there's a lot of reasons why bondage has stigma with it – but my point is just that not everything with stigma comes out the same way. It doesn't have to be all bad."

She suddenly realized he was sweating. It occurred to her that she really had him on the spot. He'd crossed a line and said something that... well, she didn't know how to characterize it. Inappropriate? Definitely! But... she reminded herself, she jumps to conclusions sometimes. Maybe... she had jumped to a conclusion too soon about what he was saying, and maybe... she'd pushed him into saying something more dramatic? Well, doesn't matter, he still shouldn't have said it. It was inappropriate. She respected herself, she wasn't a prude but her relationship with Edan was not at a point where he can just throw that out there and it be ok.

Her head was spinning. What about what he was actually trying to say? Does she respond to the insinuations? She tried for a moment to process his main point, focus just a little. She realized she was standing in place, looking dumbfounded as he stared at her. Ok, she needed to think, no reaction at all, she decided. "Uhm. Well, ok sorry, I need to think about everything you were just saying, try to sift through that. Can we pick this up again later?" Her softer tone showed that she was no longer bolting, just taking a leave.

"Sure." He said quietly, looking a good bit distraught and somewhat defeated, maybe confused as well.

She gathered her things, at a more casual but slightly hurried pace, and waved with a slight smile to show that she wasn't committed to being mad at him.

After she was out of sight, Edan's head fell to the table. He hit his forehead to the table several times as he muttered to himself, horrified at what had just happened.