America 1982-Chapter 268 - 6: You Are My Hope
"Double the homework for high school students! Save the future of the United States!"
"It’s urgent for high schoolers to feel the college homework pressure early! We can’t lose to the Soviet Union!"
A group of Stanford University men and women held up their signs, loudly preaching their slogans to passersby on the road.
This was an activity in support of educational reform aimed at increasing homework loads for American elementary and high school students. The United States Government had found that the country’s basic education was worrying, with over twenty million American adults struggling to achieve satisfying scores on reading and writing tasks of middle school difficulty.
American public high school students had little interest in studying, with dating, sports, parties, and other irrelevant activities taking up most of their time every day.
Americans once thought their happy education system was quite good until recently, when some bored Britons compared American high school students with those from the Soviet Union in a documentary, revealing that Soviet students led very fulfilling lives. Under strict teacher supervision, they attended classes on time, conducted physics experiments, read world-famous literature, and even visited military bases to participate in student experience activities after school. Meanwhile, American students spent their days flirting with girls they liked in various classrooms, dating, partying, and secretly buying prescription drugs after school...
Although quite displeased with being exposed by the Britons, the United States Government, after conducting their investigation, realized that the quality of their own high school students was not only inferior to that of the Soviet Union but also fell short when compared to Japan, South Korea, Germany and other"younger brothers."
The United States Government felt that educational reform was essential, such as first increasing the amount of homework for high school students, leaving them no time to chase after girls, at least giving the impression that their high school students were as engaged as those in the Soviet Union.
Consequently, in recent years, a bunch of students from universities across the nation, who liked to join in the fun, supported the increase in homework load for high schoolers. After all, they were already in college and wouldn’t need to endure this pain. In contrast, public high school teachers united in opposition to this reform because their workload would also significantly increase if the reform succeeded.
"If you were qualified to participate in this kind of stance-taking game just like those big companies, which side would you support?" Tommy sat at an outdoor coffee stall on Stanford’s Greek Row and asked Susan with a smile, who was sitting across from him, "I remember when I was studying, the school would organize these kinds of marches. All these years later, everyone still seems enthusiastic about helping the younger generation increase their workload."
"Of course I support the reform," Susan said, smiling at Tommy as a group of men and women passed by her, "Do you want to go check out the Fraternity house of ONE?"
Susan, compared to her previous student-like demeanor, now had a much more mature air about her. Her long hair cascaded like waves down her back, her lithe legs crossed one over the other. While her appearance might not be top-tier beautiful, the unintentional charm of her leisurely pose still made the part-time server who came up to deliver their coffees unable to help but sneak a few more glances.
"No, don’t break the Fraternity rules," Tommy said, looking at Susan, "I guess you didn’t call me just to treat me to some campus coffee, right?"
Susan glanced at Sophia, who was using the opportunity to return to the Stanford campus to take pictures with her camera, and then at Tommy, "I’m about to graduate, Tommy."
"I know, but you shouldn’t be needing me to provide you with a job like back in the day," Tommy picked up a cigarette from the ones Susan had brought to the table, lit one, and looked at her.
Today’s Susan Curtis is the president of ONE Fraternity at Stanford University, which boasts eleven members. Although Tommy hadn’t deliberately inquired about Susan’s situation at Stanford, occasionally Sophia would mention the news about Susan she heard from Mark, Holly, and others.
In her second year at Stanford, Susan, with a group of only five people from ONE, went to the agricultural area of the Central Valley in Sacramento, where she provided a service called "Piggy Bank" to low-income American families whose lives had been made tough by large numbers of Latinx undocumented workers undercutting the job market.
ONE supplied a pair of pigs, a male and a female, along with feed and medication. The families had to do nothing more than feed the pigs provided by ONE, raise them, and then either expand their scale by breeding or prepare the pigs for sale. However, ONE would take an interest, which meant of the two pigs raised by the families, one was effectively being raised for ONE.
At the time, Mark and Sophia thought Susan was imitating Tommy, but only Tommy knew clearly that Susan had started to try to understand the most fundamental political games.
It looked like high interest at the cost of one pig, but Susan and her ONE weren’t planning to become California breeding magnates. They wanted capital to collaborate with politicians, those who needed the votes from the lower class, and naturally, if Susan and ONE could help them, they wouldn’t hold back their goodwill.
"A Black female county supervisor from Sacramento hopes I would become her speechwriting secretary after I graduate," Susan said to Tommy. "What do you think of this job?"
Tommy looked towards the distant SSD Fraternity house and voiced his opinion, "Many graduates from political science begin their careers as assistants to congresspeople or officials. It’s by the book. If you like it, of course, I have no objections."
"How’s your African-American TV station doing?" Susan did not continue to inquire about his opinion but went on to ask about BT Television.
Tommy turned his gaze back to Susan. "I’ve asked Delia to scout for a Black lawyer for me, and we’re also planning the programs. Nowadays, TV program production has been industrialized. Just hand everything over to those TV production companies in Hollywood if you’re willing to pay the bill."
"I think... I want to work at your television station," Susan hesitated for a long time before she couldn’t help but raise her head and speak to Tommy, "I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, whether to go to Sacramento or to find you, but I feel that I need to work by your side."
Tommy shook his head slightly. "Do what you should do. My television station currently doesn’t have anything for you to do..."
"The out-of-wedlock birth rate among Black people is 32%, 67% of Black children are born out of wedlock, and 70% of Black children are born to unmarried mothers. There are two types of Black family structures: one where the father is regarded as the head of the family and the sole worker, with the mother as a homemaker caring for the children, and the other, where the family is fragmented, with the mother raising the children alone, and the families are more matriarchal," Susan looked at Tommy and recited some data.
Tommy sighed. "This is the first time I’ve seen a job seeker call the employer to their turf for an interview, Susan."
"The former accounts for less than 30%, the rest are matriarchal families. This means that nowadays, 70% of low-income Black families in the United States are matriarchal, and these single mothers simply cannot take care of their children alone. They rely on a family member to help, perhaps a grandmother, an aunt, or a mother. Among every hundred thousand Black men, there are 3,000 incarcerated, while the number for White men is 460. I have systematically studied a lot of Black data because I want to go to your TV station," she said.
"I run a television station, Susan. You should pursue the job you want to do," he responded.
"You are my hope, Tommy," Susan said seriously to Tommy. "I don’t want to go and write speeches for a Black female politician and help her correct typos."
(Today I also went to the hospital for an IV drip, and our family of four finally got hit all at once. Apart from my daughter, three of us are in the hospital. There will be no update tonight; let’s see how it is tomorrow. I still have a fever and feel groggy, please bear with me.)
