Post by Milo Witte on Apr 27, 2011 14:17:00 GMT -8
((Right then, so I will be the odd person on the block and call the attention of our several 6th years.))
Monday, August 29, 2011
1:00 p.m.
"2+2 = ?" was written directly in the middle of the chalkboard, and around it were written various possibilities, "4" being the furthest number to the lower left from the equation, "5" being the furthest number to the upper right from the equation. Miscellaneous other numbers were closer to it, the most noticeably out there being "1,022" and "1,000,321,234." Yes, those were ridiculous, and Milo knew full well. But so was anything except for the number "4." Still, that didn't change his lesson today anyway. It was an important concept for students to grasp, and he had confidence this group of sixth years would be able to figure it out. They were old enough to begin to realize they couldn't simply accept something as true just because someone says it is.
Today ought to be an interesting first lesson, though. This year, he had this particular class right after lunch hour, which meant they would either be hyped up on whatever they added to their lunch from sugar-filled care packages from home or completely sluggish and near a food coma from eating too much. Then again, some might be perfectly fine. He'd have to just wait and see.
Anyway, before this board directly in the center sat a desk. In the chair behind the desk rested a teacher, who was wearing a fez. A rather odd thing for a professor who was clearly not from another country to be wearing, perhaps, but it was his thing, and so he saw nothing wrong with it. He would deal with the weird looks all semester long or they would get used to any of his eccentricity of which the fez was the least noteworthy.
Around this desk were set individual desks, the sort that were simply chairs with a collapsible side leaf the student could leave down by the side out of his way or out in front of him while he took notes. It was all that was necessary for today, for today was a discussion topic. He wanted these students to put on their thinking caps (and yes, there were little black baseball caps labeled "Thinking caps" on each desk for each student to put on when asked) and use their brains. It was a lot to ask for the first day, he knew, but this concept was that important. It was the basis for everything they did here in arithmancy. If they couldn't grasp the concept, then they would forever be adding numbers mechanically and for no reason other than a good grade or to find out some trait or whatever about themselves derived from the numbers and how they were added together.
But anyway, now he waited, sitting there with a friendly grin and his hands crossed on the desk, ready for his students to enter.