A circle of placard-carrying students formed around me as I spoke, and the expressions on their faces were not pretty. I looked from one to another and tried not to panic. They wouldn’t hurt an old woman-would they?

The sumo wrestler appeared to be their ringleader. She spoke slowly, emphasizing each word. “We will not tolerate male pigs on this campus. You have been oppressed your whole life and are used to being oppressed, but our generation isn’t. Do you understand me?”

I didn’t know I had endured a lifetime of oppression. I also couldn’t picture anybody oppressing her, but I understood her all too well. I also understood that it was time for me to leave. Mustering all the dignity I could, I walked between her and another student and on toward the administration building. I resisted the desire to run and tried to heed the words of Satchel Paige: “Don’t look back because somebody may be gaining on you.”

As soon as I had put enough distance between me and the demonstrators so that I could breathe I started to look around. Mark had given me a map of the campus, which had modern buildings and was set among hills that would be green as soon as leaves appeared on the trees. The well-kept lawns were already green. Yellow forsythia and yellow daffodils had started to blossom in flowerbeds beside the walks.

The bright greens and yellows put me in a better mood. I walked up marble steps and through doorways with glass doors into the Administration Building.

Chapter 3

A functional and impersonal counter greeted me as I entered an office directly opposite the entrance. A student type sat behind the counter, busily staring at a computer monitor. I wondered what she was looking at. I had used computers when I was a professor, but I had never owned one and I didn’t derive much pleasure from watching a screen. I preferred reality.