fandomhigh | Practical Philosophy, Monday

Ender preferred to keep his classes outside when the weather allowed for it at all. As the temperatures were decent and it didn't look like it was going to rain just yet, he took the class outside to the dorm lawn where he sat down on the ground. "Sit down in a circle, please."

He had a bag of sandwiches and a bag of bottles of water with him, which he put in the middle of the circle.

"Welcome," he said. "My name is Andrew Wiggin. I'm an alumnus of this school; I graduated several years ago." That was all they needed to know, as far as he was concerned. "And you might be wondering what you signed on for."

"While 'philosophy' is in my class's title, we're not here primarily to talk about the philosophers of old or the specifics of particular lines of thought in philosophy. In this class, we try to put our own experiences into a greater perspective through conversation and debate. That means I expect some level of participation from all of you."

This was the part where he smiled, at least a little. "That doesn't mean you always need to speak up about yourself," he said. "No topics are everything to everyone. If that week's subject veers too close to something you want to keep private, be my guest - just try and pitch in when someone else speaks. Ask questions."

"Because that's the point of this class: to ask questions of ourselves and of the people around us. You can even ask questions of me, if you feel the need. And maybe together we can get to the core of our joint and individual experiences." His mouth quirked a bit more. "That doesn't mean we're always going to be lingering on the existential questions - or staring at our belly buttons. It just means we're going to try and dig and come to some understanding about each other, ourselves, and the world."

He picked up a bottle of water. "As for today, let's open a dialogue," he said. "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 you can bring up something else you feel is worth questioning. 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 paused, then nodded at the surly tattooed youth also sitting in the circle. "That's your TA, by the way. His name is Cade."

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"They were all just variations on ourselves," Eleanor said. "As near as I can tell it. Small differences that reflected in big ways across our lives. So that means ... it must be possible to be her, if that's what you want."

"I think the difference that reflected most obviously was that she didn't have a sister," Elsa noted, frowning thoughtfully. "I'm not willing to go quite that far, but that can't possibly be the only factor that contributed to who she was."

It had just meant that there wasn't a decade of fear weighing her back. No big.

Eleanor was nodding. "It makes sense," she said. "Loving someone is -- it's wonderful. But it gives you something to lose. It makes you afraid, on their behalf. It's easier to be fearless when you have nothing left."

"Or when you never had something to be afraid for in the first place," Elsa agreed. "I'm here because of Anna. If anything ever happened to her..."

She didn't know what she would do, really.

"So we make sure it doesn't," Eleanor said firmly. The 'we' was perhaps presumptuous, but deliberate all the same.

Presumptuous, but reassuring. Elsa gave Eleanor a small smile at that.

"We do."

Even if the thing Elsa was most afraid would hurt Anna was herself?

Practical Philosophy, Monday

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.