endsthegame (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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fandomhigh2012-05-11 10:22 am
endsthegame) wrote in fandomhigh2012-05-11 10:22 am
Entry tags:
Practical Philosophy, Friday
Students arriving at the designated classroom would find a note resting on the door to come find Ender outside; the weather was good, and in a place like Fandom, Ender felt, whimsy played a big part of life. Why not teach class outside?
He was sitting outside by the treeline, a plastic bag full of sandwiches at his side.
He didn't begin to speak until everyone was there, though he'd waved one hand at the sandwiches to make it clear they were up for grabs.
"If you've come here for a lightning lecture on the dialogues of Plato or the nihilism of Nietzsche, or any other firm, philosophical field that gives some manner of answers," he started, "You're in the wrong place."
He shot the class a wry look. "I don't have any," he said. "I've got a great deal of data in my head, but no answers. And while the philosophers of yore might make for a good touchstone for our existence, I believe most things are too complicated to rely exclusively on the wisdom of our elders. Of course," he added, "I'm not an elder, so it's possible I might have something to gain from saying something like that."
"My name is Andrew Wiggin," Ender continued. "Some people call me Ender. I'm a graduating student; some of you have met me before, some of you I've passed in the halls, and some of you are new entirely."
He nodded towards his TA. "This is my teaching assistant, the lovely Tara Maclay," he said. "And I might have been lying earlier - we do have some answers and wisdom to offer in this class, but those are almost exclusively her domain." He flashed Tara a smile.
Then he turned back towards the class. "This class is about opening a dialogue," he said. "Partly because the island has a habit of pulling in people with interesting problems, problems worth talking about. And partly because I'm an inquisitive fool who likes to learn about human beings, and stupidly assumes other people do, too."
"Don't get me wrong, though. If you don't want to talk about yourself, don't. I'm perfectly happy to spend a class debating Hegel with you instead - though I do expect everyone to participate, no matter what the topic. If you have something to say, say it, and we'll judge between the lot of us whether it merits the conversation."
He stretched out, planting his hands behind him in the grass. "We won't be doing introductions today," he added. "I know it's the season for it, and I know there are good reasons to do it. To foster a sense of who everyone is, to start grafting the roles we're to take opposite one another, teacher to student and student to student, student to teacher. This might be a stupid call on my part; after all, I know some of your names only off the roll given to me."
"But I'd rather get to know you by what you find worth talking about," he continued, "than your name and a few stock answers. So we're just going to do as I intend to for the rest of this course: we're going to have a dialogue. We're going to talk. And we'll see where we wind up." He paused. "Though please remember this is a safe space, of a sort, and I won't hesitate to deal with anyone who decides to behave like a jackass."
He smiled again, mostly for the class's sake. "For some of you, this is all new. How is it working for you? Are you elated? Annoyed? Don't want to be here? Achingly happy to be here? And for those of you who aren't - how has the past year treated you? Has there been anything that made you cry or made you think or made you wonder?"
"We can talk about that. Or we can talk about something else. I'm open to talking about anything, as long as you think it's worth questioning. Because you can assume from here on in that I really don't know a thing; but maybe by educating me, you can find something worth educating yourself about."
He was sitting outside by the treeline, a plastic bag full of sandwiches at his side.
He didn't begin to speak until everyone was there, though he'd waved one hand at the sandwiches to make it clear they were up for grabs.
"If you've come here for a lightning lecture on the dialogues of Plato or the nihilism of Nietzsche, or any other firm, philosophical field that gives some manner of answers," he started, "You're in the wrong place."
He shot the class a wry look. "I don't have any," he said. "I've got a great deal of data in my head, but no answers. And while the philosophers of yore might make for a good touchstone for our existence, I believe most things are too complicated to rely exclusively on the wisdom of our elders. Of course," he added, "I'm not an elder, so it's possible I might have something to gain from saying something like that."
"My name is Andrew Wiggin," Ender continued. "Some people call me Ender. I'm a graduating student; some of you have met me before, some of you I've passed in the halls, and some of you are new entirely."
He nodded towards his TA. "This is my teaching assistant, the lovely Tara Maclay," he said. "And I might have been lying earlier - we do have some answers and wisdom to offer in this class, but those are almost exclusively her domain." He flashed Tara a smile.
Then he turned back towards the class. "This class is about opening a dialogue," he said. "Partly because the island has a habit of pulling in people with interesting problems, problems worth talking about. And partly because I'm an inquisitive fool who likes to learn about human beings, and stupidly assumes other people do, too."
"Don't get me wrong, though. If you don't want to talk about yourself, don't. I'm perfectly happy to spend a class debating Hegel with you instead - though I do expect everyone to participate, no matter what the topic. If you have something to say, say it, and we'll judge between the lot of us whether it merits the conversation."
He stretched out, planting his hands behind him in the grass. "We won't be doing introductions today," he added. "I know it's the season for it, and I know there are good reasons to do it. To foster a sense of who everyone is, to start grafting the roles we're to take opposite one another, teacher to student and student to student, student to teacher. This might be a stupid call on my part; after all, I know some of your names only off the roll given to me."
"But I'd rather get to know you by what you find worth talking about," he continued, "than your name and a few stock answers. So we're just going to do as I intend to for the rest of this course: we're going to have a dialogue. We're going to talk. And we'll see where we wind up." He paused. "Though please remember this is a safe space, of a sort, and I won't hesitate to deal with anyone who decides to behave like a jackass."
He smiled again, mostly for the class's sake. "For some of you, this is all new. How is it working for you? Are you elated? Annoyed? Don't want to be here? Achingly happy to be here? And for those of you who aren't - how has the past year treated you? Has there been anything that made you cry or made you think or made you wonder?"
"We can talk about that. Or we can talk about something else. I'm open to talking about anything, as long as you think it's worth questioning. Because you can assume from here on in that I really don't know a thing; but maybe by educating me, you can find something worth educating yourself about."
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