Grand Avenue by Joy Fielding Read Free Book Online Page B

leaded windows, fine old archways. The way a university was supposed to look. Creaky and grand and just slightly intimidating. Not that she should feel intimidated, Barbara decided, climbing the wide staircase at the far end of the hall. Just because she hadn’t gone on to college after winning her title didn’t mean she was stupid, didn’t mean she had anything to feel inferior about. She might not be able to quote Shakespeare, the way Susan could, or spout legal precedents, like Vicki, and truth to tell, she’d be hard-pressed to differentiate between psychology and sociology, but she could still hold her own in conversations with her husband and friends. Besides, it wasn’t too late. If she was interested, she could always sign up for a few courses, work slowly toward her degree, the way Susan had been doing over the years, one course at a time, whenever home life and babies permitted. Of course she’d have to find something she was really interested in, and it couldn’t be sodemanding it would take away from her time with Tracey or Ron. Barbara shrugged, picturing herself as Scarlett O’Hara in
Gone With the Wind:
she’d think about these things later—tomorrow was another day. Quickly checking her image in the glass reflection of an old photograph outside her husband’s classroom, seeing Vivien Leigh stare back, Barbara pulled open the door and went inside.
    The classroom was large, its seats descending, as in a stadium, from top to bottom, where her husband, a tall and ruggedly handsome man of forty, stood behind his podium in front of a large chalkboard and delivered his lecture to approximately three hundred students hanging intently on his every word. Barbara slipped into an empty seat at the back, aware of numerous eyes turning toward her, including those of her husband, who acknowledged her presence with an almost imperceptible nod of his head while continuing to speak to the class. “One of the major difficulties in the field of attitude research has been the tendency to oversimplify problems in terms of a narrow theory of motivation,” he was saying. “The gestalt school, to look at one such example, believes that people are always striving toward a more inclusive and stable organization of the psychological field, where the individual is constantly trying to reconcile conflicting impressions in order to make sense of the world around him, thereby maximizing his potential for fitting in.”
    Barbara heard the frantic scribbling of pens on paper as, all around her, students struggled to record each word. Do they actually have any clue what he’s talking about? Barbara wondered, trying hard to concentrateso that she could discuss these theories with her husband over lunch. But already she was losing the thread of his lecture, her mind wandering back to Chris, wondering how she was feeling, if there was anything she could do to help her.
    “Another motivational model follows the reward-punishment pattern,” her husband was saying, brown eyes circling the room. “This model sees attitudes as part of an adaptive response to the social world where group norms are of primary importance and the individual seeks acceptance and support from his group.”
    Was he speaking English? Barbara wondered, feeling like a new immigrant, fresh off the boat. Where had he learned to talk like that? She surveyed the predominantly female gathering, the students hovered over their small desks, eager pens racing after each word. Not one of these girls knows a thing about makeup, Barbara thought, shaking her head with dismay. They may know plenty about motivational models, but they know zippo about contouring and blending.
    “And finally, we have the personality theorist who emphasizes the internal dynamics underlying attitudes in which the individual’s need to preserve his self-image and integrity becomes more important than external rewards and punishments.” Ron stopped suddenly and smiled. “We’ll continue with