Proposed

Opposed

Grades for Sale at the University of Mississippi

BY PATRICK RICHARDS

Did you know a good parking space costs more than a guaranteed "A" from a teacher?

But I'm not writing about the rich kids who buy $2,500 parking for their BMWs and Infinitis so they can park on the front steps of the class they have arrived at 15 minutes late. I'm writing about the rich kids who use Daddy's credit card to buy a teacher for about a thousand bucks.

That's right. Teachers are for sale here.

The teacher that I know is selling grades seems to be a nice person and a good teacher. I'm sure it all started with something small. Perhaps one time, a student turned in a paper late, expecting to get docked 10%. That night the teacher made her usual appearance at the City Grocery Bar and ran into the student who informed her that the bar tab would be on him. When the paper was returned the next week, it was not docked 10%. It got an "A."

Can I prove this, you ask?

The proof is in a certain freshman English classroom sitting next to you. In that seat is a hungover frat kid who has missed more classes than he has attended, and when he speaks, you know he doesn't even own a copy of the textbook. He is going to get a better grade than you, and the teacher is going to get a free weekend trip to NYC with front-row seats to "Hamilton."

I suppose if my parents weren't poor public school teachers, I might be able to afford to buy a teacher too, and then I wouldn't complain. But I am poor, and I am angry. And I want this to stop.

So, to end, I'm reminded of a story. A man in a plane makes a pass at a flight attendant and is rebuffed. Jokingly he asks if she would sleep with him for 10 million dollars. She says, "of course!" He then says, "Okay, how about ten bucks then?" She replies in an offended tone, "What do you think I am?" He says, "We both know what you are. Now we're just negotiating price."

Ole Miss, we all know what you are.

We Know What You Are

BY DONNA LANG

You might say I am a typical Ole Miss rich student. I belong to a sorority, and I have wealthy parents.

My father is an investment banker who helped start Google, Amazon, and others. He works hard every day to take care of his family and buy them nice things. He bought me a $2,500 premium parking pass to go on my Land Rover. He also pays my American Express bill every month and only complains occasionally about my excesses.

I am one of those rich kids everyone complains about. I am offended to think that anyone would cast aspersions upon me because my father can afford to take care of me. I am never late for class, and I would never attempt to bribe a teacher.

Only a rude, boorish person would make assumptions about a person because of their income.

We know what you are, Mr. Richards.