Today a professor I’ve taken three graduate school courses with, who was my advisor for a year, and whose research I worked on for a bit, didn’t see me as I waved at him from down the hall, as I made not one but two verbal attempts to say ‘hello’ and congratulate him on his upcoming retirement, well within his visual range and earshot.
The classmate I was walking with, who witnessed the snub/oversight/whatever, remarked at how fucked up that was.
Two of the three classes I took with him had no more than ten people in them. I was the only black girl in all three. I even won an in-class competition on who could clean a data set the best (nerdy, I know); I was the dark horse in the class, literally and figuratively.
I guess I should’ve known better. That a professor who discouraged me from even registering for the first class I took with him on the presumption of my lack of ability to do advanced data analysis, could forget me just as quickly as he praised me out of shock that I was actually exceptionally capable of succeeding in not one, but all three of classes (in which I got all A’s)