By D. W. St. John
After discomfort the best of private tragedies, Dai O’Connel isn't any longerwilling to lie. A headstrong Welshman two decades in an Oregon school room, herefuses both to reduce criteria or to enforce the feel-good nonsense of OutcomeBased Curriculum, and consequently is concentrated for dismissal.Sent to record his failings is Solange Gonsalvás, Oregon’s youngest assistantsuperintendent. recognized either for breathtaking popularity and her commitment tothe activity, she is relentless in pursuit of incompetent lecturers. Deeply believing she will be able to make the district’s colleges larger, whereas being affected by her personal idea of what institution will be, Solange unearths O’Connel under no circumstances as she anticipated. Principled, convinced, first-class at what he does, Dai isn't the form of instructor Solange forces from the classroom—but greater than competence is at stake.District politicos call for O'Connel's ouster, and if Solange desires the pinnacle job,she needs to take his. Bewildered through the serious allure she feels for the fellow, Solange needs to make a choice from ruining a superb teacher's occupation and furthering her personal, a profession for which she's sacrificed every little thing.
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Extra resources for A Terrible Beauty
It was no use. She would never get the blood out of her blouse, now. A second gust and the chain tore free, sending the gate in a slow arc downward. When it reached horizontal it severed the remaining pin. Caught up on the eighty-five mile an hour draft, the rearward edge, worn smooth and sharp, knifed downward through the air. Patty, seeing it come at her on the slipstream, knowing in that instant she was to die, opened her mouth wide as she reached out to shield Nikki with her right hand. There was time for nothing more.
Even in the cab it reached him, the fine dust, the flesh of the earth the wind carried away from the raw-scoured wounds he left behind. “I’m a poor man, an ignorant man. I work, I sleep, I eat. ” He nodded, eyes on the horizon, perhaps seeing out past the smog to the forest. The forest he loved. The forest he leveled to buy their food and clothing, to buy her books. Bone weary, he sighed, eyes barely open. “I know nothing but how to work—only to work. But you, Solange, will be much more than I.
When I was in college, I ran, long distance, mostly. One meet, halfway through a ten K, I got cramps like—” He shook his head. “I thought I was going to split wide open. ” He stood. “You ready to get up? ” For the second time he helped her to her feet, and this time it was going to be okay. She looked down to see a dark stain on slacks and was thankful for the empty hall. She had to know. ” He smiled his crooked smile. “I ran. People laughed and pointed as I went by. When I crossed the line, I just kept on running right into the showers.
A Terrible Beauty by D. W. St. John