04-01-2019, 12:20 AM
Marcus smiled pleasantly, both for her demeanor and dress. He liked it when people took opportunities seriously. He'd been something of an odd duck in college, always dressing his best, speaking respectfully to his teachers, looking for every avenue to learn more.
Education was transactional, pure and simple. And unidirectional. Some of his peers felt their duty was to educate the faculty in whatever sacred cow or the latest political correctness that had been identified. They walked out of class, formed protests, lobbied for curriculum change or staff dismissal, and generally disrupted campus. And for what? Because they thought they knew how the universe worked. They thought they were the teachers.
Then why spend hundreds of thousands of dollars of their own money for the priviledge to teach? A bit like paying people to hear you lecture. Sad.
No. School was where you came to learn. Not the humanities. What a joke. No. STEM. History. Medicine. Law. And in those fields there was a clear demarcation. Student- the ones without said knowledge. Teacher-people with the knowledge. The sharing was one way.
Protests were for weekends or classes that didn't matter.
This was not an entitled child. Her writings said as much. Still, he liked hearing a person explain their ideas in person. He could stop and ask clarifying questions, could question assumptions.
He stood, shaking her hand cordially. "Ms Fisher. Thank you for meeting with me. Your papers caught the eyes of my staff. Impressive. They brought it to my attention and I wanted to meet you personally. Please, have a seat," he said gesturing to the chair next to her.
After he sat, he looked his desk as if he were just refreshing his memory. A ruse, of course. The AI had flagged this for him and he had read it thoroughly. "You speak of using the channeling power in metallurgical applications." He looked up. "Would you like to expand on that? Explain in layman's terms what you meant?"
His expression was polite interest. He liked knowing a person's mettle.
Education was transactional, pure and simple. And unidirectional. Some of his peers felt their duty was to educate the faculty in whatever sacred cow or the latest political correctness that had been identified. They walked out of class, formed protests, lobbied for curriculum change or staff dismissal, and generally disrupted campus. And for what? Because they thought they knew how the universe worked. They thought they were the teachers.
Then why spend hundreds of thousands of dollars of their own money for the priviledge to teach? A bit like paying people to hear you lecture. Sad.
No. School was where you came to learn. Not the humanities. What a joke. No. STEM. History. Medicine. Law. And in those fields there was a clear demarcation. Student- the ones without said knowledge. Teacher-people with the knowledge. The sharing was one way.
Protests were for weekends or classes that didn't matter.
This was not an entitled child. Her writings said as much. Still, he liked hearing a person explain their ideas in person. He could stop and ask clarifying questions, could question assumptions.
He stood, shaking her hand cordially. "Ms Fisher. Thank you for meeting with me. Your papers caught the eyes of my staff. Impressive. They brought it to my attention and I wanted to meet you personally. Please, have a seat," he said gesturing to the chair next to her.
After he sat, he looked his desk as if he were just refreshing his memory. A ruse, of course. The AI had flagged this for him and he had read it thoroughly. "You speak of using the channeling power in metallurgical applications." He looked up. "Would you like to expand on that? Explain in layman's terms what you meant?"
His expression was polite interest. He liked knowing a person's mettle.