So what has been going on in the weird and wonderful world of the African Leadership Academy? For starters, I attended a talk by Mallam Lamido Sanusi, who is officially the best central bank governor in the world, and an absolute baller. I also saw Thabo Mbeki.
Okay so that’s obviously not true. If you’re currently confused, Thabo Mbeki was the president of South Africa, and AIDS and Mugabe were his two major policy failings. If you’re currently outraged, it’s also fair to point out that Mbeki is and was an extremely shrewd politician, a strong proponent of the “African renaissance”, and the in some ways the co-creator of the African Union, along with Olesegun Obasanjo. He was on the whole a great leader, with peaks and troughs.
Anyway, so this is what really happened: I had just woken up and was doing my homework on a couch in a state of extreme drowsiness when all of a sudden, Thabo Mbeki and an escort of six blazer-clad students stopped next to me. I wanted to get up and talk to him, but I was wearing tank top, 70% of my hair was on the left side of my head, and I was so surprised that I couldn’t think of how to begin the conversation.
Thankfully, I stayed on the couch and pretended not to exist. The tour group admired some vegetables growing outside and then left. It was an underwhelming experience, but on the bright side, I am now a member of a wonderfully exclusive club: “People Who Have Been 6ft from Thabo Mbeki Whilst Still In Their Pajamas.” Only at ALA.
A few days later, I missed a talk by Francis Collins by unwittingly going off campus during it. Disappointed, I made investigations into how we got the director of the US National Institutes of Health to come to ALA, and I discovered that Mr. Scudder and him are besties. Now that’s what I call keeping good company.
Since I don’t have much to say about Francis Collins, I’m going to substitute with Mr. Scudder. Mr. Scudder is ALA’s head of science, and so clever that he has only ever used the words “stressed” and “overwhelmed” as expressions of pity for others. He is from Nashville, works part time as the muse of integrity, and is a wonderful hall master. Mr. Scudder also has one small yet consistent mannerism: everything he says could be preceded by the phrase “Well, (insert name here), quite frankly…” It might not immediately make sense at the moment, but it will.
Have you noticed that Mr. Scudder’s eyebrows are almost constantly raised, and that he often nods when he’s talking to you? You probably have. Well, those are the top two indicators of forthrightness. Happy, pensive, angry, or cordial, Mr. Scudder is always forthright. Here are some examples of how "Well, (insert name here), quite frankly…” can be very easily inserted into Mr. Scudder’s sentences:
ME: How are you Mr. Scudder?
MR. SCUDDER: Well quite frankly Liam, I’m doing well.
Mr. Scudder is always doing well.
EMMANUEL: Mr. Scudder, can you please let me into your classroom? I left my laptop there…
MR. SCUDDER: Well quite frankly Emmanuel, I caaaan't I’m afraid. But quite frankly, why don’t you come by later, and maybe I can help you then.
MR. SCUDDER: Well quite frankly Mohamadou, you got me drop!*
This is Mr. Scudder’s code for “throw the Frisbee backwards”.
ME: Mr. Scudder, I think Jeshi should make smores during our bonfire.
MR. SCUDDER: Well quite frankly Liam, I like your style, and I think playing guitar next to a roaring bonfire is the best thing ever! And quite frankly, I majored in fireside strumming in college, with a minor in taking every class I wanted…just to see how many unconnected A’s I could get. It was, frankly…awesome.
My father is a geneticist.
So what's the result of all this directness? Mr. Scudder is harder to disagree with than Ms. Gater. That's an achievement and a half.
No comments:
Post a Comment