Oleanna

John's two-page monologue that opens the second act is the longest uninterrupted speech in Oleanna. He confesses to Carol, across the desk, that he esteems himself as a skilled teacher and values the performance aspect of his role as a professor. He wished so desperately not to become the robotic type of teacher he himself had as a student that he instead went so far as to be unorthodox in his teaching style—perhaps too far, he wonders, for the good of his students. When confronted with the possibility of tenure, he admits to having coveted it, and, wondering if that was wrong, he admits to wanting tenure in and of itself, for the security and comfort of himself and his family. This security came at the price of tenure, which he was in the process of getting, and he also initiated the purchase of a new house as a result, something important to him and his concept of security.

The Tenure Committee, John goes on to say, will meet, hear Carol's complaint, and dismiss it—but not without the delay causing John to lose his house and his deposit. He says he has angered Carol; he, too, was angered by teachers, but he turned his hurt and humiliation into positive motivation to reform the system. Carol's first line, "What do you want of me?", is answered with John's admission that he is, in fact, pedantic and vulnerable to criticism for his teaching. She attempts to speak, but he again overrides her, asserting that he feels he is "unassailable" in his "unflinching concern for my students' dignity." He asks how the matter can be settled, calling it "pointless"; Carol paraphrases this as, "What you can do to force me to retract?" In fact, she asserts that this is what he has said, and when he claims the contrary, she merely responds, "I have my notes." John asks again what he has done to her, and Carol replies that whatever he has done, "to the extent that you've done it to me, do you know, rather than to me as a student, and, so, to the student body," is found in her report to the tenure committee.

John reads aloud charges from the committee report: he is sexist and elitist (a word of whose definition he professes to be uncertain), has engaged in "theatrical diversions from the prescribed text", was alone with a student, told a sexually explicit story (the story which contrasted the frequency of fornication with class), tried to embrace the student, used the phrase, "The White Man's Burden," invited Carol to his office because he liked her, and offered to let her rewrite her examination paper if she would come back to his office—all charges based on incidents contained in the first act. John tells Carol that her report is ludicrous, bound to humiliate her and cost him his house; she counters that he cannot deny that the incidents occurred or, if they did, that they meant what he said they did rather than what she said. Carol claims an ironic reversal: "We don't say what we mean. Don't we? Don't we? We do say what we mean. And you say that 'I don't understand you'"

Once again, he asks Carol to tell him in her own words the problem, but she yields to the report. John cannot believe Carol is so hurt, but she retorts that her feelings are irrelevant. He wishes to help Carol, but she asserts that she does not need anything he can provide. John starts, "I feel", only to be interrupted: "I don't care what you feel." She says he no longer has the power, as he has misused it. He retorts that she is angry, violating his rights, which he contrasts as part of the "real world," reminding that he is a real person, not a symbol for something.

The theme of communication reveals much, especially in contrast to its form in the first act; where there was overlap and miscommunication before, now the ellipses are fewer and the average line length longer. Carol speaks up, and much of this section shows her finally presenting her point. Despite no longer being in control, John continues to retain his professor persona in communication, using overly elaborate words ("paradigm") and alluding to the stoics.

Carol's character makes a significant turn in this section. Where she has previously been weak, less persistent, and filled with self-doubt, she now challenges John at every step, making demands of him and unabashedly acknowledging that whether or not the charges she has filed are true, John cannot deny them by virtue of the situation in which they occurred. This burden of proof is one of Mamet's criticisms of the political correctness movement and the flurry of accusations of sexual harassment that followed: when an accusation places the burden of proof on the accused rather than the accuser, a sort of situation may ensue in which an individual is by almost any definition innocent, yet will suffer the consequences because he cannot prove otherwise. Carol's unconcern with thoughts or feelings mirrors this problem, because rather than reach a synthesis of understanding, she turns the case into one person's word against the other's. So, when John's word is against Carol's, she must win because she is the accuser and the purported victim; it is only right to give her the benefit of the doubt and right the wrongs that have been done to her.

When John cautions Carol against attacking him as a "bogeyman," as a symbol of something greater, he offers an important insight into not only Carol's character but, because Mamet portrays her as the archetypical student, the dangers of academia. Literary interpretations often analyze characters, plot devices, and other objects as symbols of something greater—this is the language through which literature communicates—but in applying the same process to real life, it is easy to fall into the trap of over-simplifying the complexities of real human stories. John worries that Carol is perceiving him two-dimensionally by ignoring the other aspects of his life, specifically his responsibilities to his family, his job security, etc. This may be intended ironically, as it is nonetheless stated by a character in a drama, still entrenched in artificial representation; however, the brief mention of symbolism focuses on the point that John feels Carol is flattening him like an intellectual concept in order to deal with him.