boarding | [March 15th, early afternoon]

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[March 15th, early afternoon]

Sitting in the British Literature classroom was a man who could have been mistaken for a student. Though he was sitting at the teacher's desk, he had his sneakered feet propped up on it, crossed at the ankles as he boredly sifting through a stack of papers. His dark gray pants were baggy, and covered in zippers and pockets, and he wore a white t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, an assortment of vividly colored paint streaks covering it. Occasionally, he'd reach up to run a hand through the strands of dark brown hair that fell over the side of his face, brushing them behind his ear, or look up from the papers as people passed by in the halls.

Faces are made at anyone who dares to stop and peek in.

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With a purse of his lips, Kalvin's expression closed down, all traces of laughter and friendliness gone so that all that was left was a thin line to his mouth, and a cold distance in his eyes. The obvious lack of faith in his abilities stung, but what did some kid know about teaching, anyway?

"If not, I'm sure you'll have a shiny little A on your transcripts anyway. And that's all that matters, isn't it?"

David frowned, clearly taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor. He'd never been disliked by a teacher before. (By classmates, certainly. Many times. But never by a teacher.) He tucked his hands into his pockets and sort of hunched in on himself.

"Not really? It's the education that matters, isn't it? Or it's meant to be."

He hesitated a brief moment and then added, "That's American.
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that's true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me..."

He doesn't like when people tell him he can't do things. The reaction is almost reflexive, now. Perhaps it's arrogant of him to think there's nothing he can't accomplish, but he's not one to back down from a challenge, either.

He snorts at David's words, sticking his hands in his pockets as he turns and slumps back to his desk. Sounded just like his Da, the kid did, talking about education like that. But he pauses as he recites the poem, the corners of his eyes crinkling up just the tiniest bit. It was a bittersweet feeling, hearing that. It was so true, and yet not all at the same time.

"You'll find there are very few kids your age who think that way," he looked over his shoulder, a wry smile quirking his lips. "Not too many adults, either. It's all about the bottom line, the big payout, the wife, two point five kids, a dog, and a white picket fence. Try and aim for more, and they'll shoot you down, saying you ain't living right. That's American."

"Not too many kids who can recite Langston Hughes, either," he added, arching his eyebrows with a cant of his head. "Bet most of them don't even know who he was. This class'd probably be easy for you, if you know that, no matter how good or bad of a teacher I am."

David's concern was more for a school of the quality of North Feldman hiring first-year teachers at all and his understanding that it generally took teachers a year or two to get their feet under them, no matter how enthusiastic or talented they may be.

"Yes, I know. I...I like it, though." He wasn't often like other students, and he never had been, though most of his classmates back home could do the same.

"I was rather worried about that, actually. An easy class isn't any use, bottom line or no."

"I like it too," he agreed, though "like" might not be a strong enough word for his thoughts on literature. Still, more important things to discuss than how the likes of Emily Dickenson, Oscar Wilde, and Homer made him weak in the knees. "And really, I'm glad you like it! Wonderful thing, meeting someone of a similar mind, you have no idea."

Sitting on the edge of his desk, he shrugged and looked David over, a bit of sadness in his eyes. "And yet, so tragic. There are so few who dare to dream, and so many who are content with mediocrity. Makes me feel pretty inadequate, looking at you, and not because I'm new. It's because I have to teach to the lowest common denominator, and-" he let out a small, bitter sort of laugh "-you are clearly not it. You've probably read everything on my suggested list, I bet. I know I had, by the time I was your age. But not most of the kids in this class. They'd rather watch A Christmas Carol on DVD than pick up the actual book. Bet I could teach Tolkien, and they'd complain how the books aren't like the movie."

"I think I do actually," David said softly. He didn't often meet someone of a similar mind himself, with regards to anything at all, really.

"What's on your suggested list? I haven't taken a look yet."

If it was Tolkien, he hadn't read it. It's not really his style. (He hadn't even seen the movies...)

He smiles softly, reaching out to give David's arm a small, reassuring squeeze.

Then grabbed the papers from his desk, holding them out for him to look over.

"A whole bunch of stuff, not sure how much I'm going to stick to, and where I'm going to stray. A lot of excerpts from the older things, I think to try and cram in as much as possible. Selections from the Canterbury Tales, the legends of King Author, Beowulf, Shakespeare, that sort of thing. The Hobbit is actually on there, but my da read that to me when I was like eight years old. I don't know if I can justify teaching that to highschool students. That's almost like having them read The Chronicles of Narnia."

David blushed at the gesture, nodding as he looked over the papers. "I haven't read either of those, actually."

Which had made him something of a rare creature in England. No doubt, it made him something of a rare creature here as well.

Pause.

"What?" He looked up at David, eyes wide with disbelief. "Seriously? Those are like... the penultimate fantasy books! They like, practically defined the modern day genre. You can't not read these books, that's like... that's like saying you've never seen The Princess Bride!"

"I'd say not reading it, but there are pages and pages of Morganstern just describing clothes, so I really wouldn't blame anyone who just wanted to skip it."

He laughed a bit nervously, not quite sure how to take that.

"I've seen The Princess Bride. I just...don't really like fantasy? And I wasn't allowed to read Narnia when I was younger."

He shrugs. "To each his own. I love it, but then, I grew up running around the house, trying to save my mom from the evil dragon's lair, aka the kitchen."

Although he did have to raise an eyebrow at not being allowed to read Narnia. "Parents religious or something? Because being against witchcraft and magic and stuff is the only reason I can think for anyone to not like it."

He laughed again, clearly amused this time rather than nervous. "Parents religious, yes. Though it was much more to do with the Christian allegory than the witchcraft."

And more to do with his uncle than his parents, really.

"Ah, yes, Aslan." He nodded, rolling his eyes a bit. "Well, what can you do? People are going to have their opinions. Personally, I think Christians should read it for the allegory, but then, it's really only the loonies who haven't."

"No offence. I'm sure your parents mean the best."

"I'm sure Christians read it for the allegory all the time. That's part of the issue, really."

He didn't really understand it either. Or rather, he understood it, but he didn't agree with it.

"We're Jewish, you see."

"Oh, welp." Being the kind of person who doesn't get embarrassed easily, he doesn't really blush at the realization of what he's just said, and while he acknowledges that it was pretty stupid, he just waves it off. "Open mouth, insert foot, right? Although, that's not really something I'm going to comment on, since I don't know much about the culture. But I still think that forbidding things is the wrong way to go about dealing with things you don't like - it only makes them more enticing."

"Still, you're a big boy now, right? If you want to read it, I think you should go ahead and read it."

He shrugged, not at all offended by it. "I think I may be a bit old for it now. I think it'd have lost some of its charm."

"Now that is the saddest thing I have ever heard. Who says growing old means you have to grow up?"

"Quite a few people, actually," David said, laughing softly. "Not that that's a terribly good standard to judge by.

"Still, I think some things have to be experienced in childhood to engender the sort of love that Narnia seems to."

"Ehn, quite a few people say you have to get married and have kids, but heck if I'm going to do that," Kalvin snorted with a wink, grinning cheekily. "And hey, you're not that much older than Peter, I mean, what are you, sixteen, seventeen? That's hardly any difference at all. Furthermore-!" he added, waggling a finger at David mock-scoldingly, "how old do you think C. S. Lewis was when he wrote the Chronicles of Narnia, hmm? He certainly wasn't a child, that's for sure. So, yeah, reading it during your childhood may have given it some nostalgia value, but reading it now certainly doesn't diminish the spirit of it. It's all in the mindset you approach it with. Don't limit yourself by saying, "oh, I'm too old for that." You might find that you'll regret it, later."

David took a step back. He really wasn't sure how to respond to that sort of thing from a teacher.

"I think you'll find very few children's books are written by actual children, so Lewis's age has little to do with it. And I'm not saying that it isn't likely quite good, but as I said, I don't particularly care for fantasy, and I very much don't care for allegory. So I think I'll still pass on it, unless you set it for the course."

Looking at David, he suddenly felt so, so old. He was aware that he wasn't, in the grand scheme of things, of course, but the teenager's attitude made him feel like shaking the kid and going "you have no idea what it means to be grown up."

Not really appropriate behavior for a teacher, but god, David just wasn't getting what he was trying to say.

"Well, not much I can do about differences in taste, is there?" He forced a smile, then looked down, clasping his hands in his lap. "I think I'll just do The Hobbit, though. Gotta have time for Shakespeare, after all. There's no writer in history quite like The Bard."

For David, it was purely an issue of taste rather than maturity. He didn't particularly want to be an adult any time soon. He'd never met an adult who seemed truly happy with their lives. (Well, other than Felix, but he certainly didn't want to be like Felix.)

"Is it something you really love? The Hobbit?"

He shrugs. "It's up there. Not the one book that I can't ever put down, but I think everyone should read it. It's about breaking out of your comfortable little bubble and doing something..." He pauses, chewing on his lipring thoughtfully. "...Something exciting, and a little bit scary. At least, from an adult perspective. A kid would probably just tell you it's just an exciting adventure story."

David smiled at his answer. "Good. Then...it'll be fun to read, yeah? If you enjoy it."

"Sweety, I don't think I'm a good judge when it comes to books," he snorted, laughing a little bit to himself. "I read Twilight and I liked it. Granted, it's full of holes and full of unfortunate implications, but if you're willing to suspend belief and just read it, it's not that bad."

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smallgayjew - 2012-03-24 05:32 (UTC) - Expand

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[March 15th, early afternoon]

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>.> totally read the Hobbit for a college class... :D

You are never too old for The Hobbit!

I'd read it before, just not for credit

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