I suppose that I don't much. I doubt that I could have managed it for very much longer, or in any greater depth.
[ A brief, rueful look. ]
There is -- ah -- a divide between those of my world who use magic, and those who do not. The affairs of wizards remain by and large hidden from the view of those not among their number, while many born into magical families are never given much cause to keep up with the world outside of their own walls.
I occupy a somewhat odd, though not unusual position. Both my parents were magic-users, but my mother was the first and only witch of her family, and we...very seldom ever used magic at home. As a result, I am more used to the idea of a magicless life than many.
I and some others hold it as important that all students whose parents consent are provided an education on at least the most basic non-magical matters. There have been some objections, but not enough to scour the class from our timetables -- the school board seemed to recognize that in the end, we all needs must occupy the same lives, together.
[ He takes another gulp of tea, before commenting into his drink, eyebrows lifting a little at himself as he talks. ]
...A few too many older wizards of my day have refused to get out of the way of moving vehicles.
Less call for that here! May I ask which course you are looking forward to the most?
Well, I think that's an excellent idea, teaching wizards about how the rest of us manage. It's a pity they can't do the same for non-magical children, but--I suppose no one would believe it.
[One hand flies to her mouth when he mentions traffic fatalities born of pure stubbornness. How horrid--but he's quite right, they ought to move on.]
Oh, the one I'm teaching on ancient Egyptian rites and rituals. We'll be mummifying rabbits and toads as a sort of practical experience, along with the usual reading and discussion. Which would be a great deal of fun in general, but it's also...
[She pauses a moment, trying to decide how to explain the course's particular appeal.]
The entire course, you see, was the idea of one of the students. He's a very bright boy, but he has a rather nihilistic view of his education--keeps insisting that he'll never go to any sort of university. Apparently, they've all been destroyed where he's from.
He mentioned that he'd be interested in a course that involved learning how to mummify animals, and when I said we could do that, he was absolutely delighted. [She smiles at the thought of it, glancing down at her tea. There's something thrilling about knowing she's had such an effect on someone's learning.] It's proven to be a fairly popular course, actually; I've got more students in that class than in any of the others.
It is a shame, isn't it? I suppose that I hold out some hope for an eventual reconciliation of our separate circles, but I admit it seems unlike to change any day soon. Tradition, once established, grows quickly difficult to buck.
[ He tips his cup briefly to her in cheers, nodding along as he listens. ]
How fascinating! The hands-on approach works wonders for generating genuine, continuing interest; then to tailor it to a student's specific aims? Well. I daresay you needn't worry overmuch for your classes after all, Evelyn.
A terrible shame about his world's centers of learning, but perhaps after all this, he might yet return to establish his own.
[ And hopefully not set about killing woodland creatures indiscriminately, there were certain signs... ]
I confess I'm not half so sure how you might incorporate those practical lessons into your other courses -- mummifying Greeks is rather frowned upon, no matter how fluent your conversation beforehand. I'll have to stop by a time or two to see you in action, perhaps on a workday, when it's less likely to disrupt.
Perhaps you'll just need someone to lead the way in that matter. A wizard's Prometheus, if you will.
[But please only bring magical fire, not subjugation and mass panic, thank you.]
Why, thank you--I'm rather pleased with how it's all turning out, truth be told. It's just a matter of keeping the students' interest now that I have it; I'd be sorry to see Davesprite [what a silly name, says her briefly raised brow] give up on his studies entirely.
As far as my language courses go, I've been trying to incorporate lessons on culture in addition to the usual sorts of declination and conjugation lessons. Less thrilling than cutting up rabbits and toads, but rather more interesting than some of the schoolmistresses I had as a girl. Well--I hope so, anyway.
[She smiles down at her tea, the sort of after-the-fact modesty that says I've probably just said a bit too much about myself, haven't I.]
Did you mostly teach about non-magical folk, or did you have other classes as well?
Perhaps without the addition of the eagle -- we've no shortage of rocky cliffside, but chaining the poor bugger up there every day would be tedious work.
[ And that's all that he cares to say of that; too much told already, it sets his mind spinning back to old patterns better left unexamined. To remove that separation inevitably means redefining the hierarchy. For all his dull, blunt aims, Gellert was correct in that assessment. No wall ever comes down quietly.
Education, as ever, makes for fine distraction. He's heard stranger names than Davesprite, but granted, they are few. Albus waggles his own eyebrows in brief response. He's no stones to throw on the count of odd monikers. ]
I should be gravely shocked, Miss Carnahan, that you ever took anything less than the full joy of long, stuffy afternoons spent over sentence diagrams. At the risk of morbidity, may I ask whether you have ever had the opportunity to see a modern embalmer at their work? For all the grief inherent the profession, you might find fascination in the contrast of old ways and new. I rather doubt there are any in Asgard, but perhaps when you return home. I know that medical and anatomical professions are less common among women of the non-magical world, but if it interests you, there's no harm in the observation.
Ah, no, I'm afraid that was only a bit of cover for a colleague; I am the most junior staff member, and our head hates paying for outside substitutions, so I do a deal of the work when it's called for.
Primarily, I teach magic itself. Transfiguration, which encompasses spells of change. Toads into teacups, vanishing an object, expanding an interior space, all that manner of thing. In truth, every spell is transfigurative at its most basic level, but the broad, practical manipulations of energy are generally what's covered in class. I do a bit of theory with those seventh-years who express interest, but it's a rare thing. By that point in the semester, they're usually all chomping at the bit to graduate, learning be damned.
I can sympathize, summer brings out the stir-craze in all of us.
Oh, no. Save Hercules the trouble of saving the poor fellow--don't punish him at all.
[But perhaps education is the better choice of subjects; it's one they currently share, after all.]
I haven't, actually--the opportunities to do so in Cairo aren't exactly welcoming to the fairer sex. They're rather rare outside the more British enclaves of the city, anyway; as far as I know, the Mussulmens' religion doesn't permit it. But it's a nice thought for the next time I'm in England.
[Where they'll likely also be less than eager to have a woman coming in and inspecting their work, but she's fairly sure she can make it happen with enough insistence.
As he describes his work, her eyes grow wide. She leans in, picking up a biscuit, and toys with it as she listens to him.]
That must be fascinating. Both in theory and in practice--though I can certainly understand why you might have less opportunity to teach the former.
Oh, it is, though of course I speak as an intimately biased source.
[ He affects a small wink. ]
Truth to be told, Evelyn, it's always something of a small joy to speak of it to those unfamiliar with its everyday use. The terribly tricky thing about magic is that as with any tool or wonder, one quickly grows to take its presence for granted. Without care to nurture one's continuing sense of wonder, the mystical quickly fades into the mundane. A singular shame of any topic so beloved -- and perhaps, of education in general.
[ He's heard in passing of a morgue, here, if nothing else there must be some sort of undertaker to those natives not gone grey. Albus makes a mental note to look into the matter; if such things can't be seen to at home, the opportunity might as well be pursued here. An inquiry, and if successful, perhaps then a surprise visit. ]
[Oooh, surprise visits to the morgue! You know how to treat a lady, Albus Dumbledore.
No, really, she'd be delighted.]
It's a pity you can't continue its study and teaching here. You'd have any number of new students.
[And as he talks, she finds herself dearly wishing she could have been born to turn teacups into toadstools. She likes the sound of his world's magic rather more than hers.]
I suppose the trick is to study something so fascinating that the wonder's never totally lost. [Evy grins.] Or with enough mysteries that you'll never be able to know everything. History makes that easy enough, but I'm sure there are still things left to discover in Transfiguration, too.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ A brief, rueful look. ]
There is -- ah -- a divide between those of my world who use magic, and those who do not. The affairs of wizards remain by and large hidden from the view of those not among their number, while many born into magical families are never given much cause to keep up with the world outside of their own walls.
I occupy a somewhat odd, though not unusual position. Both my parents were magic-users, but my mother was the first and only witch of her family, and we...very seldom ever used magic at home. As a result, I am more used to the idea of a magicless life than many.
I and some others hold it as important that all students whose parents consent are provided an education on at least the most basic non-magical matters. There have been some objections, but not enough to scour the class from our timetables -- the school board seemed to recognize that in the end, we all needs must occupy the same lives, together.
[ He takes another gulp of tea, before commenting into his drink, eyebrows lifting a little at himself as he talks. ]
...A few too many older wizards of my day have refused to get out of the way of moving vehicles.
Less call for that here! May I ask which course you are looking forward to the most?
no subject
[One hand flies to her mouth when he mentions traffic fatalities born of pure stubbornness. How horrid--but he's quite right, they ought to move on.]
Oh, the one I'm teaching on ancient Egyptian rites and rituals. We'll be mummifying rabbits and toads as a sort of practical experience, along with the usual reading and discussion. Which would be a great deal of fun in general, but it's also...
[She pauses a moment, trying to decide how to explain the course's particular appeal.]
The entire course, you see, was the idea of one of the students. He's a very bright boy, but he has a rather nihilistic view of his education--keeps insisting that he'll never go to any sort of university. Apparently, they've all been destroyed where he's from.
He mentioned that he'd be interested in a course that involved learning how to mummify animals, and when I said we could do that, he was absolutely delighted. [She smiles at the thought of it, glancing down at her tea. There's something thrilling about knowing she's had such an effect on someone's learning.] It's proven to be a fairly popular course, actually; I've got more students in that class than in any of the others.
no subject
[ He tips his cup briefly to her in cheers, nodding along as he listens. ]
How fascinating! The hands-on approach works wonders for generating genuine, continuing interest; then to tailor it to a student's specific aims? Well. I daresay you needn't worry overmuch for your classes after all, Evelyn.
A terrible shame about his world's centers of learning, but perhaps after all this, he might yet return to establish his own.
[ And hopefully not set about killing woodland creatures indiscriminately, there were certain signs... ]
I confess I'm not half so sure how you might incorporate those practical lessons into your other courses -- mummifying Greeks is rather frowned upon, no matter how fluent your conversation beforehand. I'll have to stop by a time or two to see you in action, perhaps on a workday, when it's less likely to disrupt.
no subject
[But please only bring magical fire, not subjugation and mass panic, thank you.]
Why, thank you--I'm rather pleased with how it's all turning out, truth be told. It's just a matter of keeping the students' interest now that I have it; I'd be sorry to see Davesprite [what a silly name, says her briefly raised brow] give up on his studies entirely.
As far as my language courses go, I've been trying to incorporate lessons on culture in addition to the usual sorts of declination and conjugation lessons. Less thrilling than cutting up rabbits and toads, but rather more interesting than some of the schoolmistresses I had as a girl. Well--I hope so, anyway.
[She smiles down at her tea, the sort of after-the-fact modesty that says I've probably just said a bit too much about myself, haven't I.]
Did you mostly teach about non-magical folk, or did you have other classes as well?
no subject
[ And that's all that he cares to say of that; too much told already, it sets his mind spinning back to old patterns better left unexamined. To remove that separation inevitably means redefining the hierarchy. For all his dull, blunt aims, Gellert was correct in that assessment. No wall ever comes down quietly.
Education, as ever, makes for fine distraction. He's heard stranger names than Davesprite, but granted, they are few. Albus waggles his own eyebrows in brief response. He's no stones to throw on the count of odd monikers. ]
I should be gravely shocked, Miss Carnahan, that you ever took anything less than the full joy of long, stuffy afternoons spent over sentence diagrams. At the risk of morbidity, may I ask whether you have ever had the opportunity to see a modern embalmer at their work? For all the grief inherent the profession, you might find fascination in the contrast of old ways and new. I rather doubt there are any in Asgard, but perhaps when you return home. I know that medical and anatomical professions are less common among women of the non-magical world, but if it interests you, there's no harm in the observation.
Ah, no, I'm afraid that was only a bit of cover for a colleague; I am the most junior staff member, and our head hates paying for outside substitutions, so I do a deal of the work when it's called for.
Primarily, I teach magic itself. Transfiguration, which encompasses spells of change. Toads into teacups, vanishing an object, expanding an interior space, all that manner of thing. In truth, every spell is transfigurative at its most basic level, but the broad, practical manipulations of energy are generally what's covered in class. I do a bit of theory with those seventh-years who express interest, but it's a rare thing. By that point in the semester, they're usually all chomping at the bit to graduate, learning be damned.
I can sympathize, summer brings out the stir-craze in all of us.
no subject
[But perhaps education is the better choice of subjects; it's one they currently share, after all.]
I haven't, actually--the opportunities to do so in Cairo aren't exactly welcoming to the fairer sex. They're rather rare outside the more British enclaves of the city, anyway; as far as I know, the Mussulmens' religion doesn't permit it. But it's a nice thought for the next time I'm in England.
[Where they'll likely also be less than eager to have a woman coming in and inspecting their work, but she's fairly sure she can make it happen with enough insistence.
As he describes his work, her eyes grow wide. She leans in, picking up a biscuit, and toys with it as she listens to him.]
That must be fascinating. Both in theory and in practice--though I can certainly understand why you might have less opportunity to teach the former.
no subject
[ He affects a small wink. ]
Truth to be told, Evelyn, it's always something of a small joy to speak of it to those unfamiliar with its everyday use. The terribly tricky thing about magic is that as with any tool or wonder, one quickly grows to take its presence for granted. Without care to nurture one's continuing sense of wonder, the mystical quickly fades into the mundane. A singular shame of any topic so beloved -- and perhaps, of education in general.
[ He's heard in passing of a morgue, here, if nothing else there must be some sort of undertaker to those natives not gone grey. Albus makes a mental note to look into the matter; if such things can't be seen to at home, the opportunity might as well be pursued here. An inquiry, and if successful, perhaps then a surprise visit. ]
no subject
No, really, she'd be delighted.]
It's a pity you can't continue its study and teaching here. You'd have any number of new students.
[And as he talks, she finds herself dearly wishing she could have been born to turn teacups into toadstools. She likes the sound of his world's magic rather more than hers.]
I suppose the trick is to study something so fascinating that the wonder's never totally lost. [Evy grins.] Or with enough mysteries that you'll never be able to know everything. History makes that easy enough, but I'm sure there are still things left to discover in Transfiguration, too.