fandomhigh | Sensitivity Training, Thursday

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sensitivity training

Sensitivity Training, Thursday - 9/15

"Today we're gonna look at stereotypes based on cliques or social groups," Guy said, putting two stacks of paper (one blank, the other with an image on them) and several boxes of markers on his desk for people to take when they started. Next thing you know, he'll be buying stickers to put on their work. Oh god, the teacherness. The teacherness. "I want all of you to grab a partner for this exercise."

That he totally hadn't found online last night at 2 am before sending Kyle another annoyed email for this crap. Really now.

"Since I know some of you all aren't from either this time or planet, I'm not expecting you to somehow know all this crap off the top of your heads. Just do your best at it with what you've learned about this place so far," he added. "With your partner, I want you to look at the pictures and decide what clique each of 'm are in. I'm not tellin' ya about the cliques, I just wanna see what you all think first."

Dun dun duuuun.

"Now get to it."

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As a stereotype.

Stephanie Brown

Surreal

Nathan Young

Ben Skywalker

Quinn Fabray

Annie Edison

Peter Wiggin

Spock

Jack Carter

Cara

William Murdoch

Butters Stotch

Dave Nelson

And get to work.

While Nathan waited for a partner, he started mentally giving each of these twats nicknames. That was how he made his fun, you see. Camel Toe Chad was his current favorite even if it was offensive as hell.

That was how Nathan rolled, though.

Surreal sat down and glared at the pictures for a moment. "Idiot, idiot, idiot," she said, starting to list them off. "Cheap whore, academic, healer, idiot, bastard."

See? Done! Nathan was so lucky.

"You are my favorite person in the world," Nathan said, sounding pretty fucking awed by that display. "I'd ask you to marry me so we could just go around and call people names but marriage is gross."

Still, Nathan was pretty goddamn impressed with her. That was saying something.

"Not exactly looking for a husband, sugar, but I appreciate the compliment," she said.

Then she picked up one of the images and frowned. "Is the whore a male or a female?" she asked curiously, flicking a finger at the picture. "I can't tell."

Nathan leaned down to try and figure out the answer to that question. "I can't tell," he finally admitted, "but if I ever wanted to get a whore, I don't think this person would be cheap enough even for the lowest of standards. You might find...a gerbil in an unexpected place."

"A gerbil?" Surreal blinked and regarded Nathan slightly askance. "I have no idea what that is, but it sounds filthy."

"It's a furry little animal," he said, gesturing with his hands to illustrate how big a gerbil was. "Some people, some very, very twisted people, like to let them crawl around in their -- "

Nathan glanced around and leaned in closer. " -- special places. Obviously the work of some very desperate and dirty people."

Surreal had been witness to and knew about a great number of depraved acts. Still. She scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "That is disgusting," she said, with all the loathing a fifteen-year-old girl was capable of expressing. "Absolutely disgusting."

"People do some fucked up things when they get bored," Nathan said, snickering at that reaction. "Guess some people get bored enough that even taking up knitting or watching porn just doesn't suffice."

Ben was looking at the sheet and deciding that there were, to a one, seriously unfortunate-looking fake people.

"Glad to see you aren't dead anymore," Quinn said with half a smile, as she turned her chair toward Ben's. "Hi. These are seriously fug people."

"They really are," Ben agreed, making a face. "I'm not great at picking out cliques, but I can guess which one's going to end up in prison..."

Quinn gave him a slightly dubious glance -- had he heard something about Puck?

Probably not, she decided. Anyhow, juvie wasn't prison.

"Tranny at the center, stoner next to her, or more-emo-than-you at top right?" she asked. "There are too many good choices."

"Stoner, definitely," Ben said. "And isn't he also about forty years too old for high school? The one in the lower right looks like he has a productive career as hired muscle ahead of him too."

Quinn shrugged. "This is why drugs are bad for you," she PSA'd. "And yeah, that guy's definitely a jock. Probably could work concert or club security."

She ran her finger along that row of pictures. "The girl to his left -- I bet she writes fanfic about her cats as Galaxy Quest characters. Dreadlock-girl at the end of the row wants to tell you all about Burning Man."

Edited 2011-09-15 18:53 (UTC)

"Burning Man?" Ben repeated. When you spent most of your time with Ender Wiggin, Burning Man didn't become part of your Earth education.

"Mmm, this thing where people who don't bathe enough hang out in the desert and light things on fire for a week for art." Quinn ... was not the most enlightened source.

"...why?" Ben asked.

Ben was not exactly attuned to the art scene himself.

"I guess to prove they can."

Jack decided to go against type and was already writing out extravagant stereotypes for each of the people.

"Software Billionaire. Toothbrush heiress. Goth Rock Star..."

Somebody will hopefully get him on track.

When they tag in.

Surreal had no idea what a 'cliques' was supposed to be, but she was good at picking out what social class someone belonged to just by watching them.

That didn't mean she was going to help you.

Peter knew everything he needed to know about stereotypes from his own time in school back in Greensboro.

He was hence bored.

The snob.

Who was totally sensitive to your needs.

Oh god, pumpkin coffee from Dunkin Donuts is amaaaazing.

YOUR MOM.

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Sensitivity Training, Thursday - 9/15

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