Teaching the gifted

[Michael Ellis]

For Your Consideration
.Talk of stars and kings and feet
Pawns: Michael Ellis, Emmer Brighton, Fayre SenDandridge
.Through the chromosomes of space and time
Status: open, active
.Me I'm fast like a bad infection
Setting: In the history classroom
.Gasping for my resurrection
Scene: Michael is grading papers between classes.
.Swear to me in times of war and stress

Michael sat at his desk, feet extended out in front of him crossed at the ankle. They were clad in shiny black almost knee-high boots. His form-fitted grey pants were tucked into them, a billowy white shirt tucked into that. The coat he'd been wearing, in the style of the Spanish lord he'd come to class dressed as that day, was draped over the back of the chair. A gold hoop was fixed in his left ear lobe and jangled every time he tilted his head slightly.

The paper in front of him was mostly uninteresting, about a topic the student obviously didn't care about. He sighed and started making corrections, glancing at the door in almost a nervous twitch. He was waiting for a distraction to wander through the door and give him a good reason not to keep going.

"If you insist on writing such dry work for my class, I suggest next time you choose a more suitable topic. Some of my top pics would include the Egyptian god kings or the ruins of Mexico." He shook his head and rolled his eyes. He had a feeling his bit of humor would go right over the student's head. He glanced around his classroom. What decoration they'd allowed him to use, he had. The classroom was not a boring, empty room with teacher's desk on one end and a white board. It was thoroughly decorated to match scenes and places in history.

Michael had always had a flare for the dramatic and it was often suggested he should have taught children to act, instead of teaching them about the past. But, he thought, it was better for him to try and give children a passion and artistic view of an otherwise "outdated" topic. He scribbled a couple more notes, muttering to himself as he did so, and setting the paper aside.

"Ah. A paper about Columbus." He read farther into it and scoffed. "Did you do any research at all?" He shook his head "Fourteen hundred seventy five does not rhyme with 'Columbus sailed the ocean blue.'" He said it aloud as he scribbled it across the students paper.

He'd come to a decision, no matter what special powers they had, all students where the same when it came to school work. It made him smile really. It was a revelation of sorts. And instead of frustrating him, it made him giddy with excitement that showed on his features.

[Emmer Brighton]

Emmer knocked nervously on the door to her history class, hoping Mr. Ellis was in. She was nervous about the paper on Native American rituals she'd turned in the other day. She couldnt remember if she'd placed the Commanche tribe in the Plains tribes or the Southeast, and she was unsure if she'd gotten the rain ceremony right or not. The book she'd found hadn't been too specific.

"Uh, Mr. Ellis?" She pushed the door open slightly, seeing the teacher leaning back in his chair grading papers. "Um, excuse me?" Teachers made her nervous. Well, she ones whose subjects she actually cared about did. She didn't want to seem like an idiot in front of him or come off as though she hadnt tried on her paper or that she didnt care about the subject.

[Fayre Sen Dandridge]

The sun was peeking out from behind grey clouds that were threatening rain this afternoon. The dull lighting cast a mood over the students, quieting the school even in the thriving time of social activity that was lunch hour. Fayre was sitting against the wall for the moment, observing older children walk by and listening to them prattle on about boyfriends and girlfriends and who drank who under the table. She was fascinated by the lack of deep, meaningful conversation in most of the people going past her, but she was willing to blame it on the impending rain. Weather had a certain, mystical effect on those beneath it. Fayre was aware of its charming psychological magicks, though, and as such was immune. She was wearing a smile that reached her sparkling gray eyes and the few that stopped to glance at her took a moment for the light to click on in their heads that she was certainly too young for them to start flirting up in public.

As the minutes slipped by, the little brunette turned her eyes down the hall. She had been waiting patiently for a good time to take herself into the history teacher's class in order to best get her problem solved. It was almost exactly halfway through lunch, which left her victim of circumstance with just enough time to have gotten himself fed and well-settled and left her with just enough time left over to actually get some questions answered. It wasn't that she was struggling in her class, but she did have a desire to understand some rudimentary things that seemed to go uncovered in her book--like, for example, unbias. It wasn't really that she had anything to ask at all... Fayre was looking for an argument, at the core of her plans, or an agreement that the book was entirely unsuitable for impressionable readers to be learning by.

She turned on her heals and slipped down the hall at a quick gait, passing the few doors between her and the door to the history class. Her skirt swished between her legs in her quick, long gait. She held the book to her stomach, beneath her chest where her navy sweater bunched up between the pressure of her arms and the possession. Her fingers slid out and grasped the handle of the door before pulling it toward her with a quick flick and slid between the frame and the door before it slid closed. "Good afternoon, Mr. Ellis." She smiled that sparkling sweet smile with petal pink lips around perfectly aligned white teeth.

"I had something pertinent I wished to discuss with you." Her eyes glanced up and she was surprised to find another in before her--a blonde, older girl that seemed to be fidgeting nervously in the teacher's gaze. "My apologies. I didn't realize someone else would be having a tutoring lesson."

[Michael Ellis]

Michael glanced up with relief at the knock on the door and smiled, setting the papers aside and standing. "Yes, come in!" He was almost too exuberant as he spoke, a smile on his lips that was meant to be reassuring but probably came across as a little over eager. He searched through his memory for just a moment, looking at her with eyebrows furrowed. "Emmer, was it?" He nodded. "Come in! Sit down if you like or, stand. Whichever you prefer."

He moved from behind the desk. He hated such obvious boundaries of authority when actually addressing the class, or his students. But, the damn thing was bolted to the floor as if someone knew he would throw it out the window otherwise. Well, maybe not quite that extreme, but he really did hate it.

He leaned back against the desk, perching just on the edge, legs still crossed slightly at the ankle in front of him and hands clasped on his lap. He smiled and looked at her. "What can I do for you?"

The question had barely escaped his lips when the door swung open yet again, this time with much more purpose and far less consideration. It caused him to blink a moment in confusion then smile. "It would seem I'm rather popular today!" He smiled and nodded to the girl as she entered, waving a hand for her to come in and join him "Well, come in. It's alright. I'm sure I can answer both of your questions." He thought for a moment again. "Fayre, if I'm not mistaken." He nodded. "Come in, come in. I'd rather have a good conversation than make another paper bleed anyway."

[Emmer Brighton]

Emmer smiled and laughed softly at his comment about making papers bleed. He was so nice, once she was in the room and talking to him she could hardly remember why he scared her. "Uh, well, I was wonderin' about my paper..." Sometimes she wished she could stop slurring her words so much. It really did make her sound like a hick or something.

She curled her shoulders forward a bit. "I was wonderin' if you'd finished gradin' it and...what I got..." She bit her bottom lip. His earlier mention of making papers bleed suddenly made her stomach drop. She must have gotten something wrong! She'd been certain about the dates at least. Maybe she had mixed up the tribes.

[Fayre Sen Dandridge]

Fayre waited patiently for the other girl to stutter out her purpose, and tilted her head slightly with exasperation as she heard it. It wasn't that she thought the other girl stupid or anything, just that she coveted her time and waiting for someone else to get her paper grade reiterated to her was not among her high priorities. Fayre chewed her lower lip impatiently, making sure to stay a step or two behind Emmer so she would not be able to read her almost rude reaction to her.

Her fingers drummed silently along the binding a few times before moving up to push the sandy strands of hair from her face. She smiled warmly and assured with a quick, "By all means." that she would patiently wait out the situation without much issue. She tapped her teeth as she waited until a lull in conversation to speak up again.

"I just wanted to discuss the wording in our history book..." She made her reasons for visiting clear in the moment of silence before leaning against one of the desks, crossing her feet at the ankles

[Michael Ellis]

Micheal smiled at Emmer as she replied. It was good to have a student so passionate about the subject and so interested in her grad she'd come in early to find out. He nodded and stood. "Yes, of course Emmer!" He turned and shuffled through the papers on his desk. He remembered Emmer's paper very well. "I was very intrigued by your piece. It was well written. A few grammatical errors and spelling mistakes, but the content was good, and I'm not an English teacher. I think you may have missed a little on the rain ceremony, but that's a very obscure subject for an eleventh grade paper anyway. If you'd like, I could loan you one of my books on Comanche rites and rituals. It goes into great detail on the topic."

He pulled the paper from the stack and handed it to her smiling. There was hardly any red on the white sheet. The little black characters of her writing happily unharmed in the massacre of other history reports stacked on his desk. Written in red at the top was a bright beautiful "A," the text in her heading having been sacrificed for the glory and survival of the rest of her paper.

Michael looked up at Fayre as she spoke. He nodded. "Alright, Fayre. I'm open for discussion. Which part of the wording exactly do you have a problem with?" He smiled, leaning back against the desk in his previous position. Instead of folding his hands in his lap, he let them lay behind him to support his weight as he leaned back slightly. He loved a student who challenged his authority. Or who challenged the book from which they were supposed to learn. It meant they were thinking, engaging, and learning. He liked that much better than the mindless cattle mentality.

[Emmer Brighton]

Emmer grinned and nodded. "Um, next class period?" She asked. She was always up for new reading material, especially of the history variety. She waited for an affirmative and then ducked her head slightly, taking a few quick steps back. "Thanks!" She chirped quickly, ducking around Fayre and heading out the door. She wasnt worried about food. She'd grab something from the stash in her dorm when she skipped her next class.

[Fayre Sen Dandridge]

Fayre gave a quick nod as a lawyer might if told to approach the bench, a glimmer of her mother shining through as she opened the book to the bookmarked pages. Her steps approached the teacher's desk, sliding around the other girl as she left. She settled the book on the wooden surface, as a victim awaiting dissection. Her fingers spanned the text on the page, but she was gesturing as a whole to the piece when she finally spoke, "This stuff.. on Greek history. The author is obviously lacking in unbiased thought. Is it not the purpose of a history class to deliver knowledge without coloration by the viewer, and therefore leave it up to us to interpret it for ourselves?" Her voice was very matter-of-fact. The question was more an accusation at the book than one that bore an answer.

She flipped through the pages, shoulders hunched forward as she leaned over her victim and let her grey eyes skip across the lines, looking for the offending text. Her hair fell forward and she pulled it back with one hair so it would not cast a shadow. Her nose did a small twitch as she continued her search, portraying her irritation in the minute features. As her mother would say, this information was unnacceptable, and she felt it important that it be called out for it. It was for the sake of her addle-minded peers, who could not think this thoroughly for themselves.

"I suppose it can't be helped--I have been through many books in my short life, and the things you get given to you as a teacher are only a small portion of the history books that carry this irritating trait. But look here," She gestured to a line, "This obviously shows the author's bias against women, which he probably picked up from reading a few too many scripts from Aristotle." She threw her head back with her irritation, letting her curls bounce back over her shoulders as they settled back. She crossed her arms across her chest in a discerning manner and stared onward with blinking, expectant eyes.

[Michael Ellis]

Michael nodded in response to her question. He'd pack the book for class tomorrow. He turned his attention to Fayre as she marched to the desk with determination and set the book down on it heavily. He turned and looked over her shoulder at the document. He pressed his chin into one hand and held his elbow in the other.

She was scrutinizing it like an ancient tome that would tell her the answers, or fill her head with biblical lies if she let it. She pointed adamantly. Michael nodded as she pointed to passages, spoke with determination, and finally looked up at him.

It was obvious she wanted an answer this time. Michael let his hand fall to grasp his other elbow and lay across his chest. "Well, this particular book was the one provided by the school when I got here, if that's any consolation." He moved away slightly, so as not to seem to be crowding the girl. She was taking this very seriously, and he intended to do the same. He looked at her with level eyes and a steady gaze.

"The first thing you'll need to know about most history text books is that they're written expecting their audience not to care much about the topic. Especially in secondary school where history is hardly ever anyone's favorite topic." He moved his hand back up, moving it to emphasis as he spoke.

"The second is that it's nearly impossible for history to be told without any bias. History is written by the one who wins the battle. Whether that be a physical confrontation, spiritual, or intellectual. It's therefore impossible to receive pure, unadulterated fact without a single misconception or skewed point of view. Someones history is lost to the ravages of time, without fail." He let his other hand fall from its position holding his elbow, occasionally joining the first to help make his points.

"The last thing is, Greece itself held a bias toward women and, wouldn't it then make sense that a piece written to explain this view, whether the writer agrees with it or not, would best convey that through a distinct bias?" Michael smiled, he was enjoying the conversation as he placed down his distinct and carefully chosen points. He hadn't had such an engaging conversation from a student in a long while, and certainly not one so young. "There's a good possibility this is not, in fact, the writer's bias, simply the one he is attempting to impress upon the minds reading it."

"But," he pointed to the air, "the most important feature here is that it is my duty, as a teacher, to ensure my students understand the difference before sending them out into the word with a topic they mostly find rubbish anyway." He leaned back against the desk again, waiting for her response expectantly.

[Fayre Sen Dandridge]

Fayre's eyes narrowed in annoyance, but she let it out in a sigh. Her body straightened and she turned in a whirl to face her teacher as she placed herself onto the desk with a glittering smile again, conveying an excitement she barely felt, "I understand that complete unbias is impossible in any book, and the bias in Greek history is restricted to Athens, and to specifically Athenian women." She tilted her head to the side and placed her folded hands in her lap, taking a deep breath, "Since we are discussing Greek history as a whole, as we are not being specifically, I think Spartan culture should be included--just because European culture bred itself off the Athenian democracy and garnered its bad opinion of women from Aristotle's," She paused, her smile almost seeming a bit sarcastic now as she slipped herself down from her position she had chosen for establishing a sense of personal power, "To be frank, idiotic philosophies on life compared to his fellow Greek philosophers, does not give him more precedence over them in our structured learning."

She stepped around the desk and placed herself at the front of it, fiddling with a pencil in a small desk organizer for a moment before turning her eyes back to him, "To be sure, I'm not questioning your intellect," She suddenly curbed her tone, becoming more docile and smiling apologetically for her stern outburst, "I am just debating the views and impact this book will have on my peers, as a very impressionable group." She took the pencil from the holder and flipped it between her fingers as she focused those colorless eyes on its motions as if to calm herself.

"What I'm asking, Mr. Ellis," She turned her full attention back to him again, dropping the pencil into the organizer again, "is that you give a clear understanding to those listening to you that this book is complete and utter rubbish, and suggest them to better options if they choose. Encourage them not to regurgitate this insult; it's a danger for the generation to be instilled with the beliefs imposed by the author of this book. He glorifies chauvinism and encourages the disenfranchisement of half the species." She stumbled slightly over the words, as if she was searching her quite extensive vocabulary for the correct ones to use even as she spoke.

Perhaps her earlier thought that she was immune to the grey of the sky was incorrect. Her mood had darkened considerably without her noticing. She turned her eyes to the window again and caught glance of the coat over the back of the chair, no doubt used for a different class, as its style was certainly not suited to teaching Greek history. The ticking of the clock rang in her ears and brought her observations to its proclamation of their ebbing time.

[Michael Ellis]

Michael smiled. "Of course! I never want my students to think they should regurgitate the garbage written on the pages of history books that speak fiction and opinion in favor of fact." He reached around behind his desk and pulled a syllabus out from one of the drawers, holding it up for Fayre to see. "The syllabus I handed out at the beginning of the semester, I'm sure you remember." He flipped to the last page. "I have listed here a number of readings which I would prefer students use in their assignments, and in their free time, should they choose. Now," he placed the paper back in its place," I know for a fact that very few, if any, of my students will choose to peruse these selections."

His tone was one of playful respect. Not once did it turn to an air of superiority or betray any thought that he may believe she was stupid. He thought the girl was very intelligent, extremely sharp, and very well within her right to bring the issues to the table.

"And to reassure you, I have written in my notes for tomorrows class an explanation on the readings and some of my own personal feelings on the opinions of Greek philosophers." He leaned against his desk again and seemed to think for a moment. His mind was searching something else she had said to trigger a thought.

"Ah! And the Spartans! Yes. There are very few history books that choose to cover that particularly bloody and war-mongering race. However, I've always had a fondness for their ideals, if not for their execution of some of them. I would be more than willing to add some time in class to study the spartan culture." Michael was never opposed to taking his student's input on something they would like covered in class. As long as their suggestion was a serious one, and not a request for more free time, he usually added it to his teaching plan.

"It wouldn't be a bad thing to lose a couple days on Greek myth. They'll cover that in every history class you ever learn for the rest of your life." He had never liked Greek mythology anyway.

[Fayre Sen Dandridge]

She was glad to hear him take her seriously. One of Fayre's biggest peeves was when her intellect was dismissed on the basis of age, but he responded in such a way that she was not displeased. She hadn't taken up the opportunity to talk to Mr. Ellis much, one on one, because she didn't often need any questions answered and rarely did Fayre think the needs of others were important to her in any shape or form. After reading a few chapters ahead, though, and experiencing her peers' seeming lack of motivation, she had felt a humanitarian need to present the problem she had foreseen before she regretted it when they got shackled into a group of some sort.

Fayre smiled--this time, not a superior or haughty smile, but one of genuine feeling and pleasure. She closed the book and looked at the selections, a few of which books she wouldn't have selected herself for banality, but she accepted the rest with a curt and pleased nod. Not everyone could see from the same point of view, or else nobody would learn. She pulled the book down from the desk and placed it back across her stomach where she had previously held the contemptuous thing.

"Alright." She said, and nodded to emphasize her conclusion to the discussion at hand, "Thank you." She bent her knees slightly in an impromptu curtsy. Fayre was slightly more proper than most, as she was slightly more than most in almost all ways.

"I am glad we had this talk, and I look forward to your class in the future, Mr. Ellis." She gave another big smile and turned on her heels to exit the room, feeling more than accomplished for the day. She glanced at the time as she stepped lithely toward the door and made a note of the time, pleased that she had allotted herself enough for this discussion to take place. Despite the initial distraction, it had taken much less time than she had considered its possibility, since they had mostly agreed, which had been altogether unexpected. Her fingers clasped the door and swung it open before slipping through it and out into the hall again.

[Michael Ellis]

Michael smiled at the girls satisfaction and was glad to see that the conversation had ended on a good note, and without additional confrontation, as he feared it might. Students who came in wanting to argue, no matter what the argument, often wanted to continue to argue. Even when he had agreed with them.

And he did agree with the points the girl brought forth. While Michael loved history and had a great passion for the past, he hated many of the deeds done and the portrayal of them by those who considered themselves "heroes."

"Thank you very much for coming in, Fayre. I hope you'll come and talk with me again about your opinions. I feel like I could really improve my class with your input!" He said it with sincerity and a smile as he watched her leave the room.

He sighed and glanced at his desk. It was still covered in papers to grade, and he dreaded having to read them. "I wish more of you could have been written by someone like her."

Without further distraction to keep him from his task, Michael quickly realized he'd have to start his battle with student essays anew. He sighed and stretched, sitting back at his desk and pulling the cap from his red pen. He immediately started scribbling notes and history jokes he knew none of his students could possibly understand.