There is a school, perhaps a college, a man. Now I am the new college president. I am building my own college in the deserts of Central (state), near a small town of hicks, in beautiful landscapes of rust colored mountains covered at the top with clouds and in the shape of a cascade mountain, but no snow; rolling hills. I now inspect the campus starting with my office. It is a very pleasant place with windows and mirrors. I go down long halls where the rooms are on each side that I can't see into. They are still being built and are boarded up. I try to imagine what they will look like. It is too much work for the dream imagination to create the details. I come to a ramped sidewalk thing with side walls that are too skinny and keep squeezing me and I keep trying to force them to be more open and accommodating, and finally succeed. The motto of the school or philosophy is that "the process is more important than the knowledge." This is a new way of thinking. I must choose teachers who are open, flexible, honest and creative. Students can goof off, but they are tracked to a goof off track where teachers and counselors work with that energy to transform and "get it more on a productive track." I see Judith who is coming to be interviewed for the teaching job. I give her a packet of tests to take: Meyers Briggs, and some others that I derived from years of working with knowledge-based teachers, what not to be kinds of tests, or measurements.