L&E Faculty

Contrary to popular belief, I do not live a life of lackadaisical freedom, unencumbered by every aspect of student life, from community hours to classes. Although I probably sleep about two hours more than the average ALA student every night, I also take six subjects and work as an assistant in the Leadership and Entrepreneurship Office. For example, I’ve researched Corporate Social Responsibility in Africa, catalogued some of the office’s library, and gathered information on community service sites. But enough about me. The best part of working in the L&E office is the L&E faculty, who I will now attempt to describe. Here’s the lineup (click to enlarge, as always):


There used to be five, but Ms. Carter left to go have a baby (hoorayyyy!!), and it took so long to draw the remaining four that I decided to use that as an excuse not to depict her as well. But if you want a mental picture, she has wavy brown hair, and sometimes wears long cardigans and big glasses. We miss her!

Right so here goes:


Mr. Ngozi

In the 1890’s a physiologist called Ivan Pavlov conducted an experiment in which he got some dogs to salivate, even when they didn’t actually intend to. Mr. Ngozi’s sarcasm is sort of like that; it's reflexive. For example, there is no difference in the tone with which he says these two sentences (this is from personal experience):

Negative chastising: “Hmm, telling me how to teach my class on the first day, interesting.”
Positive complimenting: “Hmm, that’s a good point. Interesting.”

Unfortunately, this makes Mr. Ngozi harder read than a Stephanie Mayer book. Yet we all know that inside lays a heart of pure gold. Actually, it’s not pure gold, because Mr. Ngozi's blood stream is about 60% caffeine; he was responsible for the L&E office’s coffee machine purchase, and he has never been happier.

Mr. Ngozi is also ALA’s hip-hop choreographer extraordinaire, and as I learned from absent-mindedly whistling in a room next to his, he dislikes Katy Perry. I was suitably reprimanded and embarrassed.


Mr. Bennin

Unlike most students, Mr. Bennin has a laptop, and he’s not afraid to show it. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s afraid to put it down (as you can see from the picture). The marginal benefit of placing his laptop on the table does not exceed the marginal cost (Mr. Bennin also teaches economics). In any case, he is also the only member of the L&E department who we actually refer to with a full surname, and that’s not a coincidence. After Ms. Carter left, he graded my class's presentations, and he did it bluntly and irrefutably. I think I’m going to sleep with the rubric under my pillow from now on; Mr. Bennin’s catchphrase should be, "Well, if you had really wanted to go for the A*…"

After we finished the assessment, Mr. Bennin proceeded to teach the next unit via a slow paced yet knowledge-saturated lecture.


Mr. O

Mr. O is my ‘boss’ and the only one of the L&E faculty whose class I am in. A few days ago, he told Lailat to “find the words” when she was struggling to explain something in English, and he waited while she did. The class ended up clapping for her after she made her point elegantly, and it was one of the best teaching moments I have ever seen.

It would be impossible to talk about Mr. O without mentioning clothing though. To quote another unnamed person in this school, Mr. O looks like he’s preparing for a flood in the 1950s. (As you can see from the group drawing, his belt is a good twenty inches above Mr. Ngozi’s.) Yet although Mr. O’s trouser line is a little higher than usual, he dresses with superb style, from his cap down to his very visible socks. He has caught many a female student’s eye, and he is certainly doing his upmost to show technical leadership in both the fashion and teaching worlds. Mr. O doesn’t just explain paradigms; he sets them.

Perhaps most importantly, Mr. O has soul. Whenever we read in class, he puts on a soothing, barely audible jazz soundtrack. Also, when I’m working in the office, Mr. O sometimes bursts into a shatteringly audible and spontaneous falsetto warbling.


Mr. Ismoila
Mr. Ismoila is the strong, silent type. Word has it that he used to be rifle sergeant in the US army, and that he did one-armed pull-ups during an advisee meeting (see illustration). And that he can run through a brick wall and bench press a matriarchal elephant. Okay so not really, but Mr. Ismoila is actually a giant mass of muscle, barely contained by his classy assortment of cardigans and loafers. Let's just say that I've seen a fair few arguments between girls extolling the virtues of Ismoila and O.

Other important details that people have mentioned to me: Mr. Ismoila smiles a lot. Mr. Ismoila spends a lot of time in class twirling his board markers, dropping them, and then picking them up. And Mr. Ismoila loves his Blackberry as much as Mr. Bennin loves his laptop.