I never did go to the YWCA where the women had originated. They came to my study class and I asked them what they knew. They had been given and published the wrong date. Their little gathering had happened spontaneously. So I reasoned that the event had not been planned, someone just took advantage of the situation and blamed me. The result of blaming me lost my the teaching job I enjoyed the most, it was a prestigious job. It was given to a fellow student who had been wanting it. My first suspicion was that student. But I had no evidence, only a motive.
Like any mystery I had to hunt down motives of the players and unravel the mechanism and the events that allowed this to happen. I was innocent and determined not to take the fall for someone else. I began to ask questions of the students and staff. The students did not seem to know anything and the staff were mum. Several staff members advised me not to ask questions, to let it go. So I suspicioned they were involved somehow.
To not ask questions was to me like living in the dark. I had done enough of that. I had to find out why, I knew I would never be granted a Ph.D with such a blemish on my record. They were not kicking me out yet so I continued on my quest as I took classes and asked questions. It is amazing what one can learn about people by asking questions. You can not take their answers as the gospel truth, but everything they say tells you something about them, reveals how they perceive the world, feel about it, think about it, and react. Most of what I learned did not help me with my quest of who set me up but I learned tons of other things. I was seeing the people around me at a deeper level, it was like a soap opera, reality show, or a sitcom. Secrecy was the word and cover up. I should tell you about the key players. Really, there was just a handful.
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