by Sandi Gamble
Curiously, it was during the conversation that I first thought of myself as intelligent. I mean, if I could parry with Jace, who was obviously intelligent, then maybe I was intelligent too. I mean, I guess I always knew I was smart but I didn’t feel the edge of it the same way Jace did. I was able to get lost in my adventures with my mother, or in the museum pieces, I observed. I guess the best way to understand the difference between us was that I was usually focused on the “what” and the “how” and Jace was focused on the “why.”
Together, we found comfort with one another, but there was also enough competition in us to challenge each other and make each other laugh. In short order, we discovered that we enjoyed being with one another more than with anyone else. We were best friends. It was natural that we often found ourselves reviewing material together. We studied together, not because it made the material easier to understand but because we found new ways to think about it. Quite often, when the assignment asked for one perspective, we provided three. If we were asked to come up with a method of teaching youngsters a task, we would come up with two, each more than satisfactory to accomplish the goal.
As you can imagine, more than once, the headmaster called us into his office, questioning the reason we worked so closely together. The first time, he was in no mood to be amused by us; not at all. His questions were colored by suspicion.
“Can you not find other students to study with?” he asked, leaning forward on his glass desk.
I looked at Jace and then back to the headmaster. “The other students are not intelligent enough, sir,” I replied as though the answer should have been as self-evident to him as it was to me.
His eyes narrowed, and he straightened in his chair. He was clearly not amused by me or my tone. He looked at me with a withering, critical gaze. “We do not encourage that kind of perspective,” he said. “Such judgments are frowned upon.”
I had not been raised by my parents to be a smart, thinking girl only to be cowed by the first authority figure who felt it was his place to intimidate me! He might have been in charge, but I knew I was right. I drew a quick breath, and then I matched him, straightening my thin, young girl’s body as much as I could. “It is not a judgment,” I said, doing my best to match the steel in his voice and doing a pretty good job, despite the fact that my knees felt a bit weak. “It is a statement of fact.”
It was impossible to discern at first just how this assertion was going to play. His sharp eyes held mine for another moment before the smallest flicker of a smile twitched across his leathery skin. “I see,” he observed softly, relaxing his ramrod straight posture and easing himself back in his chair. “And you?” he asked, turning his undivided attention to Jace. “Do you agree with this so-called ‘statement of fact’?”
I glanced quickly at Jace. Up until that moment, it did not even occur to me that he did not see things the same as I did. But in that millisecond, I felt fear course through my soul. Not because I feared the headmaster if Jace disagreed with me, but because my world would have collapsed upon itself if my assumptions about Jace and me were not perfectly matched by his own!
And even if he did agree, he might have taken a position that was less confrontational. After all, Jace was not the one who had been referred to as “impetuous” through most of his life! Perhaps Jace felt no need to prove his mettle like I did. Certainly, he did not straighten up any straighter before the headmaster than he was already standing, which was expected of any of us in the presence of our teachers and superiors; here, showing respect to the headmaster. His reply bore none of my determination or verve.
I held my breath, waiting.
I felt relief wash over me when, rather than replying, he simply laughed with delight.
“You’re amused?” the headmaster asked, not as harshly as I would have thought he would have asked.
“Sir,” he said, both respect and familiarity in his voice, “I might not have said it quite so boldly as she did, but I know, and I’m fairly sure that you know only too well that what Ari says is absolutely true.”
There was a moment of uncertain silence after Jace spoke, a moment when it seemed the headmaster himself wasn’t sure how he would react to these two students standing before him. He was a man who carried himself with absolute authority. Even if he had not been the headmaster, and in possession of an office that would have commanded respect, he would have received it. And yet, here we were, two youngsters, essentially challenging the way he preferred to have students behave and speak.
Although I kept my eyes down, as did Jace when we glanced up we could see the headmaster still considering exactly how he was going to respond to our impertinence. And even I could see that it was an impertinence. I felt the weight of the possible consequences of my words. He could, of course, choose to punish us. And the punishments he could choose from could be from reprimand to expulsion. Or, equally possible, he could commend us. He could praise us for our intelligence and self-confidence.
One or the other. Black or white.
Surprising me, he chose neither. Rather than render judgment, good or bad, he instead decided to query us about our position. “You say your superior intelligence is absolutely true. Is this truth tautological? An empirical fact?” he asked, trying to inject doubt into our observation by his tone.
I nearly cheered out loud when Jace spoke, not even hesitating as he qualified his statement. “Insofar as it is a provable one, yes sir, it is indeed.”
The headmaster leaned forward and rested his pointed chin on the pyramid he’d formed with his fingertips. “So, it is provable, is it? You have no qualms about putting Ari’s assertion to the test? No doubts that her … ahem, boldness... will prove to be ill-founded?”
Jace glanced at me. Our eyes locked. Looking into his eyes, it was as if I was looking into my own soul. He turned to the headmaster. “As you wish, sir.”
Whether my statement was empirically true or not, I knew, and Jace knew that the Academy did not like to consider any of the students better or different than the others. Indeed, our entire culture didn’t. That was at the heart of the “no bullying” laws. Communal efforts required equality in thought and status. Which was not to say that people were blind to differences amongst members of our culture. Just that identifying those differences had more often led to negative outcomes than to positive ones.
Colonel Williams had emphasized as much during that first day address, “Those in charge, ‘the Ministry’, want alert, responsible, thinking individuals who are sensitive to the needs of others and our planet, and who want to share the responsibility of caring for our earth and living in peace together as one race, one Government.
“You will learn a great deal here, but information is not enough to help you develop into the people we need. For the Ministry’s vision is not of a society of humans with fixed habits of response to authority. Although,” he continued ominously, his piercing eyes seeming to focus on each of us, “every now and again some fall through the cracks.” He straightened up. “Those are dealt with swiftly.”
The Academy had a very clear philosophy about fostering community while at the same time finding the balance to encourage and support individualism. Jace and I were quite clear that claiming to be more intelligent than other students was, at best, occupying a grey area.
Still, it was the truth.
It would be a mistake to think that either Jace or I felt “special” because of our intelligence or dedication to learning. Both of us were absolutely committed to the same goals and aims as our society, the Ministry, and the Academy. We’d even talked about it on occasion. We didn’t feel special, and we didn’t want to feel special. However, even with that understanding, I could not see why that should run counter to facts.
From the day I began prep courses, I felt fully alive. I was like a finely tuned athlete finally allowed to run without hesitation. The only one who I had discovered capable of keeping up with me when I chose to run – was Jace. Even my instructors, o
n occasion, found it impossible to keep up with me.
In the headmaster’s office that first day, I felt myself beginning to twitch with impatience – not my most endearing trait – as the headmaster continued to eye us, wondering if we were prepared to defend the audacity of my claim, I couldn’t remain silent any longer, I began to speak.
“Sir, I certainly did not mean to be disrespectful. And the last thing I want to do is to suggest that being smarter than our peers makes us better. Both of us are quite clear that that is not the case. But the simple fact is, our peers find studies to be work. For Jace and I, it is joy.
“I don’t know how best to assess that joy quantitatively. I am sure we would have trouble measuring that to your satisfaction, but it is true nonetheless.” I quieted down for a moment and looked down. “I know it to be so.”
He considered me closely. Then he looked over at Jace. It was clear that he had a preference for how he wanted to deal with us, but he was either interested, amused or troubled by our assertiveness. “You two present a very unique case,” he conceded. “I will consult with your instructors,” he went on, speaking simply. “You will return to my office tomorrow at 1400 hours.”
“But… warfare exercises...” I started to protest, knowing that the scheduling of such a meeting would mean missing the beginning of the warfare exercises, one of my favorite activities.
Jace, however, was more focused and disciplined and quick to speak over me. “Yes, sir. We will be here. Promptly at 1400 hours.”
The headmaster’s eyes went back and forth between us. “See that you are.” Then, with the wave of his hand, he added, “dismissed.”
The reality of how close I’d probably gotten us to expulsion hit me when we were out in the hallway. Suddenly, I broke out in a cold sweat and had to lean against the wall. “Oh my God, what did I do?”
Jace laughed.
I breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that somehow, in spite of my audacity, we had survived the meeting with the headmaster to face another day. “I can’t believe I was ready to protest returning!”
Jace chuckled. “You’re crazy, you know that, don’t you?”
I made a face. “And why would you say that?”
“Really? I need to explain? You are called to the headmaster’s office, and you practically tell him he doesn’t know what he’s talking about!” He shook his head and then swept his hair from his twinkling eyes.
“Well, I’m not the one who laughed in his face,” I pointed out, making it clear that I was certain that if there was any trespass made, it was by him and not by me.
“I couldn’t help myself,” Jace said with a shrug.
“Nor could I.”
With that, we laughed at once and then walked out of the building and did what we always did – we started working on our assignments together as though nothing had changed. In fact, nothing had changed. Nor would it before 1400 hours the next day.
I slept only fitfully during the night. There was no outcome of the next day’s meeting that was not inconceivable to me. Certainly, I could not imagine that we would actually be expelled or even punished for our behavior, or our attitude. That seemed to be an outcome that was contrary to reality. But not being punished seemed equally inconceivable. We had been called to the headmaster’s office because our behavior fell outside the approved boundaries.
There had to be consequences.
I could tell from Jace’s rumpled hair the following morning that his night had been no more restful than mine. Our glances to one another made it clear that though we attended our morning classes, our thoughts were elsewhere.
We walked silently to the headmaster’s office, arriving exactly forty-five seconds before 1400 hours. His secretary nodded to the door when we arrived.
“Go in. He’s waiting.”
We entered and stood at attention in front of his desk as the headmaster reviewed some papers on his desk. It was all I could do not to have my knees buckle from beneath me. I felt as if my future, my life, pivoted on this moment.
And, in some sense, it certainly did.
What could he be reading that was more important than our meeting? I wondered, willing him to look at us and speak. Yet, when he did look up, I couldn’t help but look away, if only for a moment. When I did find the strength to look directly at him, I saw the same steely grey as I had the day before, but also a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Well,” he began, taking an exaggerated breath, “I have spoken with your instructors and queried them on the ‘absolute truth’ of your assertion.” He paused. “Do you have anything to say before I share with you what they had to say?”
I glanced at Jace. Was this the time for a defensive maneuver? We had studied such strategies in our classes. Should I suggest that maybe I had been hasty in my assessment, if only to deflect the criticism we were sure to face? Before I could decide, the headmaster cleared his throat.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” he said. Then he sighed. “Well, it seems as though your instructors agree with both of you,” he said, a quick smile flaring across his stern features. “Which,” he added quickly, “is very fortunate for you.” He returned his attention to the papers on his desk. “So, you are free to continue your collaboration…”
Jace and I looked at each other, our eyes wide with astonishment and relief. “Thank you, sir,” Jace said quickly.
The headmaster glanced up and raised an eyebrow. “…so long as there is never, and I mean never, any suggestion that such collaboration compromises the integrity of either of your work and studies.” He paused for several seconds, allowing his words to sink in. “Do I make myself absolutely clear?”
Was he warning us against cheating? I did not understand at first because the notion of any kind of cheating was completely foreign to my nature. “Sir, are you suggesting that we would ever….?”
“Make sure you do your own work,” he said sternly, not answering my question directly. “I have given you permission to collaborate, but collaboration should never mean compromise. Understood?”
I stared at the top of the headmaster’s head as he studied the papers on his desk, my mouth open but no words coming out. How could anyone ever suggest that Jace or I would cheat? I felt anger rising in my chest. I gripped my hands in tight fists.
Jace no doubt felt the same as me but, as was his nature, he was better able to control his emotions. “Yes, sir,” Jace said to the headmaster. As he did, he quickly put his hand on my elbow and led me from the office. There were some social cues that I did not pick up on so easily. Clearly, I did not understand that the headmaster was dismissing us. Jace knew, and he was only too glad to be out of the office.
“Whew,” he sighed when we were in the hallway. “We were lucky that time,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I snapped angrily. “Don’t you realize what he was suggesting…?”
He nodded. “Of course I do,” he said. “But you really don’t understand how close a call that was, do you?”
Now I was confused. I was angry, but Jace seemed more relieved and grateful. I shook my head.
“We could have so easily been expelled.”
My breath left me. I knew that punishment was a possibility and I’d even feared expulsion, but somehow expulsion never seemed like a real possibility to me. What had we done that could have resulted in expulsion. I was so certain of what I’d said and done… But, as I said, in so many ways I did not understand the ways of the world. In this context, Jace was more of a guide than a collaborator.
Whatever else Jace accomplished by telling me about how close we’d come to disaster he certainly did a good job of getting rid of whatever anger I was feeling!
So, it was clear that our academia supported and encouraged individuality but only within a context defined by the greater good. We were like fish swimming in a river. We were free to explore how we wanted to swim and how deep we wanted to dive, but the river was controlled by the Ministry.
Later that evening, when I thought about everything that had transpired, I realized that there was something strange about the way the situation was handled. The headmaster had taught us a lesson, but I wasn’t sure exactly what that lesson was. Not yet. I would have to discuss the situation with Jace. After all, by the time we had arrived at the Academy, the Ministry knew us very well. Each one of us had a defined path to follow; each student moved along a tailored educational plan designed to take advantage of his or her strengths and minimize his or her weaknesses. When we arrived at the Academy, the Ministry knew where it wanted us placed and articulated our requirements with that in mind.
I did not know at the time that there were only two students who, in the history of the Academy, did not have such a strictly defined path – me and Jace. Whatever the Ministry had in mind for us was different than for the other students.
We had followed the same testing and evaluation as all the others, but we had scored qualitatively differently. Although ultimate occupations were not necessarily determined by the Ministry, the simple truth is that while individuals had some limited input in their destiny, the comprehensive exams we all took upon entrance to the Academy were remarkably predictive.
Mine took place in an airy office that was not much larger than my own room at home. The difference was that there was absolutely nothing on the walls of the office. Likewise, other than the computer tablet that my proctor brought in with her, there was nothing in the room other than the large, transparent, video glass-topped table, a chair for her and a chair for me.
