Woman of Substance Read Online Free PDF

guest chair, Robbie saw red pen scrawls in the margins of her thesis manuscript. If only she could read upside down. At any rate, the signs weren’t promising. Just a week earlier, Robbie had endured a mini-lecture from her professor about her need for attention undermining her academic credibility, or so the professor said. Robbie was running the risk of misappropriating the identity of heavy women and could, therefore, jeopardize the respect that Clifton had built for the department. And now she suspected the lecture continued.
    “If you insist on parading around in this so-called get-up you’ve described here, you could end up in trouble,” Dr. Clifton said. “Big trouble.”
    “What exactly are you suggesting?”
    “We’ve had students expelled from programs or, at the very least, given a conditional pass with major revisions. Are you prepared for those consequences?”
    Robbie pressed her spine against the contoured back of the chair and counted to ten before answering. She had spent eight months listening to women, and she was not going to be thrown off track now. Many had urged Robbie to learn more about the issues facing women who were large.
    “This has nothing to do with getting attention,” Robbie said. “The women in my group want me to walk a mile in their shoes.”
    “Cliché.”
    “Historically, women padded and corseted themselves to conform to the ideal shape of their time. I’m changing my body to experience what society suggests is a disgrace when a woman can’t control her body size.” Robbie pressed her notes onto her knees to quiet the rustling of papers caused by her trembling hands.
    Clifton’s nostrils flared. “I can’t order you not to do this, but if my department receives any negative publicity, I’ll recommend a failing grade.”
    Robbie ran her fingers through short her hair. “A total failure seems drastic if my other research is credible.”
    Clifton removed her reading glasses. “Exactly. There is a danger you’ll identify too closely with these women, and you won’t be able to maintain your research role. So why chance it?”
    Robbie pressed her fingers to her temple, closed her eyes, and bit her lip to keep from saying, these women who are now my friends encouraged me to experience their lives.
    A melody piped from under the desk. Robbie’s shoulders slumped and her breaths came from her diaphragm and filled her chest. The technological interruption halted the crowded thoughts from tumbling unchecked from her lips.
    Clifton checked the caller ID on her cell phone. “I have to take this.”
    Robbie’s stomach rumbled. The veins in Clifton’s temples popped while she commanded someone to send a repairperson tonight for her state-of-the-art treadmill still under warranty, or she would never deal with their company again.
    After several tension-filled moments, Clifton swiveled her chair back. “Nothing lives up to the advertised specifications.”
    Robbie recalled her mother’s advice and searched for the milk of human kindness. “I’d be willing to run on the track with you until your machine is repaired.”
    “I don’t think so. I’m training for a half-marathon with other faculty members.”
    Someone should give this woman an attitude adjustment, but it wouldn’t be her. She focused on her professor’s red-rimmed glasses. “I’ve got a month until my deadline. I’ve completed your suggested revisions, and I can see you have made further suggestions in the margins. If you’ll pass me those, I’ll continue revising the manuscript while preparing for my defense.”
    Dr. Clifton flapped the pages toward Robbie and snapped the file closed. “It’s your degree.”
    “Thank you. I’ll do these corrections and make another appointment.”
    Dr. Clifton turned her chair and reached for another file. As Robbie’s fingers held onto the door handle, she forced her muscles to relax as she silently closed the door. But how she wanted to slam it. With her eyes