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fandomhigh2010-05-25 11:02 am
on-her-korhal.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2010-05-25 11:02 am
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Breaking the Glass Ceiling, Tuesday
"As sweet Polly Oliver lay musing in bed, a sudden strange fancy came into her head," Kerrigan quoted, sitting perched lightly on the desk in the classroom. "Nor father nor mother shall make me false prove, I'll 'list as a soldier, and follow my love." She shut the book in her hands with finality.
"Sometimes," she began, "The only way in which anyone will give you a chance to prove your abilities is by following the example set by sweet Polly Oliver. To exchange your clothes for someone else's, stuff a sock down your pants, and keep plugging away until you do something so impressive that they'll have to take you in, even if you are a woman, or a telepath, or a mutant, or whatever the hell it is they have a stick up their ass about."
She put the book aside. "Of course, that's banking on the idea that there will be something just that impressive to do," she said. "It requires subterfuge, and a keen mind. And a keen understanding of why you are doing what you're doing. Is it simply to get respect, with no ulterior motives? It might work. Or it might be a fool's errand. If you're going to disguise who you are, you'd better have a damn fine idea of what to do when you get where you want to get. No one got very far on life on respect alone. But to use it to get closer to someone or something you need-- Well. It might be a good way to tip the dominoes in your favour. After all, do you want to be put in a special, delicate position because you're the only one of your kind to get where you are? One shift in the ground below your feet, and you're toppling again. It's a romantic idea, but... find something permanent to hedge your bets towards, or you're in for a rude awakening."
With a glimmer of a dark smile, she pushed off the desk. "The other side of the coin is this," she said. "We pretend to be cowed, downtrodden, without power. We speak and we simper until someone else does the speaking for us. Let them open up the road before us and then stride down it when we get what we want. This is less... risky, and relies on getting enough people to do what we want them to do. But less risk can mean less payoff... or less of a fall."
She pulled the book towards herself. "O then Polly Oliver, she burst into tears, and told the good doctor her hopes and her fears, and very shortly after, for better or for worse, the captain took joyfully his pretty soldier nurse," she read. "That's an example of why not to do it. Just FYI. Lovers are so terribly unreliable." She tilted her head. "Would you rather be the example, or the influence behind the throne, arranging the puppets? I'm curious as to your opinions, children."
[[wait for the ocd up! have at! ]]
"Sometimes," she began, "The only way in which anyone will give you a chance to prove your abilities is by following the example set by sweet Polly Oliver. To exchange your clothes for someone else's, stuff a sock down your pants, and keep plugging away until you do something so impressive that they'll have to take you in, even if you are a woman, or a telepath, or a mutant, or whatever the hell it is they have a stick up their ass about."
She put the book aside. "Of course, that's banking on the idea that there will be something just that impressive to do," she said. "It requires subterfuge, and a keen mind. And a keen understanding of why you are doing what you're doing. Is it simply to get respect, with no ulterior motives? It might work. Or it might be a fool's errand. If you're going to disguise who you are, you'd better have a damn fine idea of what to do when you get where you want to get. No one got very far on life on respect alone. But to use it to get closer to someone or something you need-- Well. It might be a good way to tip the dominoes in your favour. After all, do you want to be put in a special, delicate position because you're the only one of your kind to get where you are? One shift in the ground below your feet, and you're toppling again. It's a romantic idea, but... find something permanent to hedge your bets towards, or you're in for a rude awakening."
With a glimmer of a dark smile, she pushed off the desk. "The other side of the coin is this," she said. "We pretend to be cowed, downtrodden, without power. We speak and we simper until someone else does the speaking for us. Let them open up the road before us and then stride down it when we get what we want. This is less... risky, and relies on getting enough people to do what we want them to do. But less risk can mean less payoff... or less of a fall."
She pulled the book towards herself. "O then Polly Oliver, she burst into tears, and told the good doctor her hopes and her fears, and very shortly after, for better or for worse, the captain took joyfully his pretty soldier nurse," she read. "That's an example of why not to do it. Just FYI. Lovers are so terribly unreliable." She tilted her head. "Would you rather be the example, or the influence behind the throne, arranging the puppets? I'm curious as to your opinions, children."
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