help.
With the benefit of a private tutor, Lee raised his GPA to 3.3 by the end of the second quarter, and that was after adding back the two classes he had dropped the previous quarter.
* * *
With graduation less than a year away, Lee knew he had to have a plan for what to do next, whether to continue with more schooling or something else, before he visited his parents during spring break. During the taxi ride home from O’Hare Airport, he practiced what he planned to tell them, ignoring the taxi driver’s periodic curious looks in his rear-view mirror each time he tweaked his speech.
“It may be a long shot, but I’ve applied to Cornell’s grad school,” he told his parents after they had engaged in a suitable amount of small talk. “I can’t get in with my current GPA, but if I can score at least in the ninety-fifth percentile on the GRE, they’ll let me in on a conditional admission.” Lee had always tested exceptionally well—it was class participation, written assignments, and class presentations that typically brought down his grades.
“More gardening?” his father asked, with more than a hint of sarcasm.
“Henry! If you would take the time to understand what horticulture is about...and stop being so ignorant.”
It was just like his father to ignore the fact he was about to graduate from college, so his father’s reaction didn’t surprise him. What surprised him was his mother calling him ignorant.
“I do apologize,” his father said in an arrogant tone. “Your mother is right. I have no right to criticize. Why don’t you tell me about all the stimulating facets of horticulture so I am enlightened.”
“Maybe some other time, Father.”
* * *
Lee studied the entire summer, scored in the ninety-seventh percentile on the GRE, and was accepted into Cornell’s graduate school’s Department of Horticulture. Following in Dr. Rad’s footsteps, he decided to concentrate on plant genetics.
The summer after his first year, he interned again for Dr. Rad. One day, as they were readying some slides in the lab, Lee asked the doctor if he knew much about the genetic modification of tobacco plants being done in Holland.
“It’s fascinating work,” he responded. “I’m envious of their freedoms.”
“How so?”
“You see what I’m up against here. The research is expensive, and funding is a constant problem. The money the Dutch earmark for this kind of research is significantly more than they will ever make available here. In fact, I’m not sure how much longer I will be able to continue. I try to stay six months ahead of the game. It’s the best I can do.”
In the course of their work together, Lee picked Dr. Rad’s brain as much as he could. He maintained copious notes from their discussions. Dr. Rad’s most fascinating research involved the study of cancer in the plant kingdom. The doctor was sure that once they found a cure for crown gall disease in plants, they would be on the way to finding the cure for cancer in humans. For this research, Dr. Rad preferred to use red clover, a perennial herb particularly susceptible to crown gall.
Two other interns worked alongside Lee that summer—a foreign exchange student from Guatemala whose English was barely understandable, and a bookwormish young man who had even worse social skills than Lee. No one joked about Dr. Rad’s absentmindedness. No one went to dinner with anyone else. They didn’t even make chitchat with each other. Lee reverted to being socially withdrawn with constant feelings of restlessness and nervousness—feelings he had thought were behind him.
Lee thought about Robin often that summer. In spite of the ill will he still felt toward her, he couldn’t get her out of his mind, and that bothered him. The fact that he had dreams about her confused him even more. When he had a dream about making love to her, he called his childhood psychologist, Dr. Jerry.
“Dr. Jerry, I realize you specialize in counseling
With the benefit of a private tutor, Lee raised his GPA to 3.3 by the end of the second quarter, and that was after adding back the two classes he had dropped the previous quarter.
* * *
With graduation less than a year away, Lee knew he had to have a plan for what to do next, whether to continue with more schooling or something else, before he visited his parents during spring break. During the taxi ride home from O’Hare Airport, he practiced what he planned to tell them, ignoring the taxi driver’s periodic curious looks in his rear-view mirror each time he tweaked his speech.
“It may be a long shot, but I’ve applied to Cornell’s grad school,” he told his parents after they had engaged in a suitable amount of small talk. “I can’t get in with my current GPA, but if I can score at least in the ninety-fifth percentile on the GRE, they’ll let me in on a conditional admission.” Lee had always tested exceptionally well—it was class participation, written assignments, and class presentations that typically brought down his grades.
“More gardening?” his father asked, with more than a hint of sarcasm.
“Henry! If you would take the time to understand what horticulture is about...and stop being so ignorant.”
It was just like his father to ignore the fact he was about to graduate from college, so his father’s reaction didn’t surprise him. What surprised him was his mother calling him ignorant.
“I do apologize,” his father said in an arrogant tone. “Your mother is right. I have no right to criticize. Why don’t you tell me about all the stimulating facets of horticulture so I am enlightened.”
“Maybe some other time, Father.”
* * *
Lee studied the entire summer, scored in the ninety-seventh percentile on the GRE, and was accepted into Cornell’s graduate school’s Department of Horticulture. Following in Dr. Rad’s footsteps, he decided to concentrate on plant genetics.
The summer after his first year, he interned again for Dr. Rad. One day, as they were readying some slides in the lab, Lee asked the doctor if he knew much about the genetic modification of tobacco plants being done in Holland.
“It’s fascinating work,” he responded. “I’m envious of their freedoms.”
“How so?”
“You see what I’m up against here. The research is expensive, and funding is a constant problem. The money the Dutch earmark for this kind of research is significantly more than they will ever make available here. In fact, I’m not sure how much longer I will be able to continue. I try to stay six months ahead of the game. It’s the best I can do.”
In the course of their work together, Lee picked Dr. Rad’s brain as much as he could. He maintained copious notes from their discussions. Dr. Rad’s most fascinating research involved the study of cancer in the plant kingdom. The doctor was sure that once they found a cure for crown gall disease in plants, they would be on the way to finding the cure for cancer in humans. For this research, Dr. Rad preferred to use red clover, a perennial herb particularly susceptible to crown gall.
Two other interns worked alongside Lee that summer—a foreign exchange student from Guatemala whose English was barely understandable, and a bookwormish young man who had even worse social skills than Lee. No one joked about Dr. Rad’s absentmindedness. No one went to dinner with anyone else. They didn’t even make chitchat with each other. Lee reverted to being socially withdrawn with constant feelings of restlessness and nervousness—feelings he had thought were behind him.
Lee thought about Robin often that summer. In spite of the ill will he still felt toward her, he couldn’t get her out of his mind, and that bothered him. The fact that he had dreams about her confused him even more. When he had a dream about making love to her, he called his childhood psychologist, Dr. Jerry.
“Dr. Jerry, I realize you specialize in counseling
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