Oleanna

John mentions "The Tenure Committee, Good Men and True," which prompts Carol's outrage—to overlook such a sexist remark, in her mind, is to promote the mindset that allows such comments. John questions, exasperated, if that is sufficient to deprive his family; Carol finds it so, reprimanding him for speaking to a woman in private, performing, ordering Carol about, treating higher education as a joke, confessing "to a taste to play the Patriarch in your class," and embracing his students. She cites his transgression of established norms—his questioning of some but embracing of others which he feel will advance him—as hypocrisy and contrasts this hypocrisy with his mocking of students through his criticism of the educational system. Carol berates him—no longer interrupting herself or trailing off as she did in the first act and bids John good day.

John seizes upon this, offering a, "Nice day today," as an example of essential human communication: "I say something conventional, you respond, and the information we exchange is not about the 'weather,' but that we both agree to converse." He defends himself; though their positions are in conflict, they are still human and imperfect. People are self-serving and conventional, he admits, but she came to the class looking to learn about education. All John could do, he claims, is tell her his thoughts and let her decide. They are not supposed to correct each other, but, in his role as teacher, he must tell her what he thinks.

Carol has once again come to stuttering. She alludes to her "Group," and John counsels, "Everybody needs advisers." The telephone rings: it is Grace, his wife, worried about the house. He asks her, "Babe, baby, will you just call Jerry?", pushing her off to return to Carol. With the conversation, Carol regains footing; John has asked to talk about the complaint, but Carol reminds that they will discuss it at the Tenure Committee Hearing. Carol advises they stick to the conventional process and tries to go. It is John's turn to stammer, and he "restrains her from leaving." She cries out, "LET ME GO." "I have no desire to hold you," John says, "I just want to talk to you. " Carol cries out for help.

Carol's perceived dichotomy between knowledge and thought or feeling pervades this act, as she emphasizes her lack of concern for John's feelings; instead, Carol is still obsessed with the facts, looking at what she knows and what her notes and the report say. In this, she still doesn't understand the role of professor in the educational relationship. He explains it as communicating his thoughts and letting her decide, but Carol once more pushes away synthesis in favor of a "he said, she said" model.

It is important to note how Mamet draws our sympathy to John. Carol confronts him with what is essentially an admission that her charges are false but that he cannot escape them; in a sense, she acknowledges her own deviousness. Throughout most of the act, he is making rational appeals to the most universal parts of life—his family, his job, and his security. It is only near the end, when John restrains Carol out of his own frustration, does Mamet alienate us from John. While some readers may still be able to identify with this act and not be wholly alienated from John, many will act as a horror movie audience screaming at the screen, realizing that in his frustration John is playing into her hands.

Power relationships shift somewhat in this act, and it is important to note how. Carol seems to have the upper hand—she has filed a report against John with the Tenure Committee—yet when she bids him good day and rushes out, he can hold her with a word. John can still bring her to stuttering with his lecturing and can overpower her with his rhetorical skills, but only when she takes advantage of the break a phone call affords can she rally enough gusto to rebut. She may vocalize her dominance, as well as hold the keys to John's future, but Carol is nonetheless still a weaker character than John.

Finally, the physical action—the second scripted contact between the two—gives perhaps the best insight into the power structure. John has to step out of the bounds of the intellectual realm—in which their conversation has until now remained—to make his point with Carol. Rather than yield or fight, Carol responds by calling attention to John, yelling for help. This is a microcosmic representation of her strategy—she is not powerful enough to fight back herself, but she can call attention to injustice being done and let the proper authorities deal with it. Carol works within the realm of convention and within the established rules to counter John's constantly stepping outside of them.