The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2920 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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I had an appointment to see Dr Anne Thomas and remembered it just in time to get there and have a few moments to get my breath back. Debbie Matthews was going to be teaching a class and taking a tutorial for me this afternoon and agreed I would watch to make sure she was doing things the way we did them. Then she turned the tables on me and asked to watch me teach first. She was pretty quick because she’d remembered I was doing one later this morning.

I was tempted to under-dress in skinny jeans and tee shirt or go completely over the top and wear a suit. In the end I went as I normally do, in cord trousers with a long-sleeved top and matching scarf. I wore just enough makeup to enhance my eyes and some lipstick. Jewellery was simply, my gold bangle and drop earrings. The perfume was expensive.

As the air was nippy first thing I wore a loose jacket over my outfit. Anne Thomas was complimentary about my appearance and we shared a coffee as we spoke. “So let me get this right,” she said in answer to my outlining my current dilemma, “You’ve employed someone who may be transgender but you can’t ask them because it could be seen as intrusive.

“She’s taken away an application form but she’s not obliged to declare she’s transgender any more than she would if she was HIV. So tell me, why d’you need to know?”

“To see if my trannie-radar is working.”

“Explain please?”

“Most of us can recognise each other at four hundred feet in the dark.”

“As transsexual, you mean?”

“Or transvestite or whatever. It’s like gay men are supposed to be able to spot each other. I guess I’m always monitoring women just in case, I don’t do it with men unless their body language encourages me to, like for aggressive behaviour.”

“What difference would knowing make to you?”

“I could support her better.”

“I thought the university has policies to do that?”

“Moral support.”

She gave me an old fashioned look, “I see, so would you disclose your own status?”

“Not sure.”

“But if you know about her doesn’t she have a right to know about you?”

“This is my dilemma, I know I shouldn’t care if she can do the job.”

“So why do you?”

I shook my head, “I don’t know.”

“Is it competition, she’s younger or prettier—though I doubt the latter.”

“I did consider that. She’s a few years younger but then I’m a professor so seniority often means older.”

“I think I prefer experienced particularly with regard to academia or the professions.”

“I also have a doctorate.”

“You’re a professor, so naturally you do.”

“I’m also a better body shape, she’s more angular.”

“So is my goddaughter, who is cisgendered.”

“I’m beginning to wish I’d never met her.”

“But these days if you believe the likes of the Daily Mail, we’re overrun by men who want to become women, so wouldn’t it have happened at some point?”

“But they may have disclosed it or it be more obvious.”

“In which case would that enhance or detract from your own situation?”

“What remind people of my past, you mean?”

She nodded.

“I hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps I should get me to a nunnery?”

She laughed loudly. “You are so funny sometimes, Cathy. Look if it matters that much speak to her but be careful what and how you say, it isn’t worth going mad over, is it?”

“No, it’s just that if our positions were reversed or someone asked me if were transsexual...”

“You’d reply you were female and quite rightly too. She has the same right.”

“So I’m back to square one, aren’t I?”

“No you acknowledged you have a problem and we possibly have a cause—your need to be better than her. If it’s any consolation, it happens between bio-females as well and occasionally men. My advice would be, accept what and who you are without recourse to have to prove it with every female you employ. You’re a very lovely and very clever young woman with a marriage and children few of us could hope to have and a very responsible job. Just enjoy your life and your immense good fortune and stop comparing yourself to others, it will only lead to pain. That’s my advice.”

I nodded. She was absolutely right. I was married to one of the best men on the planet with the most wonderful children and an adopted father I loved to bits. I had a lovely home and a wonderful job and deserved everything I had. I was also fortunate in being a reasonably attractive woman despite my route to it. I shouldn’t envy or fear anyone for any of these things. I wanted to cry I felt so stupid instead I thanked her for her hospitality and good advice and went on to work.

I’d told Diane I had a personal appointment and would be in by ten. I was teaching at eleven, so time for a cuppa and one of those biscuits Danielle isn’t supposed to know about.

I was teaching ecology today which I hadn’t decided would be one of Debbie’s subjects because she had no direct qualification in it. This was a first year class and they’d done the basics and should be familiar with the terminology and principles of general ecology. They had an exam next month so this was a revision class which I shouldn’t have been taking at all but we were short and even if she were capable of taking it I wouldn’t allow it without knowing her capabilities, especially revision on her first day.

Was I buoyed up or feeling a bit down after Anne Thomas’ session? I didn’t know and decided to put it behind me because I was doing what I did best after counting dormice, teaching my favourite subject and they were going to remember their crazy professor as long as they lived as one of the best teachers they ever had.

Would I be guilty of showing off or giving a masterclass in teaching and ecology? I hoped it was the latter because that’s what I felt up to. I got my notes from a few years ago from my case. I kept these at home and spent quarter of an hour scanning them and trying to rekindle my enthusiasm and daring when I first did this lecture. I was going to use the ecology of student ecologists as my subject, so they should all be able to contribute. If that didn’t get them we’d do something boring like dormice. That usually got their attention, if it didn’t, I make them watch my bloody film again.

Debbie arrived at eleven thirty and told me she’d booked into a travel lodge for the rest of the week. I told her we had some teacher accommodation but didn’t know if it was available or not—I asked Diane to sort that. Then we went off to my revision class and it went better than I’d hoped. At the end, I was absolutely buzzing as were many of the students—the energy in the room was phenomenal.

I collected Debbie and we went off to the refectory for lunch. “Wow, Cathy, if you’re expecting me to follow that, you’re going to be greatly disappointed. I’ve heard stories of when you came to talk to Sussex and I’ve seen your two films. You are one of the best teachers I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen a few, I can tell you. Even Esmond isn’t in your league and he’s pretty good. If any of those kids fail their exam it won’t be because of your efforts it’ll be because they still won’t have come down to earth. You are that good and I’d like you to teach me how to present like that, will you do that?”

Why don’t they ask easy questions? She’s as bad as Trish.