by Andrew Gates
“Ooh, close. I’m 30,” she replied. “Right out of school.”
“So is this your first teaching job?” he asked.
Iris nodded.
“I’ve helped out before as a part-time teacher’s assistant, but never a fulltime job.”
“Kind of late to be starting your first real job, don’t you think?” he asked.
Iris blushed again. Stop blushing, she told herself. Only a few moments ago she was filled with confidence. Now she was getting embarrassed at every turn.
“What can I say? I like to study,” she said honestly. She knew her studies had held her back. Long hours of reading was the reason she never left her apartment. But that was only half the problem. Her parents were also to blame for her late start in life. If it weren’t for them, her career would have begun much sooner.
“I understand,” Dan said. “So what kind of history do you teach? Dark Years? Modern?”
“Surface,” Iris replied.
Dan’s face froze and his confidence seemed to vanish in an instant. It was as if the word surface was his off button. After a moment he blinked and leaned back in his chair. He scratched his cheek, looked around the room and then leaned forward again, as if giving himself a few seconds to recompose.
“That’s a very controversial subject these days,” he said.
“And getting more so every year,” she responded.
Dan leaned back again.
“I know the old history teachers would briefly work a unit or two of surface history into their syllabi, but we’ve never had a teacher just teach surface history and nothing else,” he explained. “Is that what they hired you for? Just surface history?”
Iris nodded her head. As far as she was aware, she was just teaching pre-Descent history. That was what she applied for.
“Just surface history,” she answered. “I guess they wanted to have courses focusing on this particular period. I didn’t realize it was new.”
Dan sighed as if suggesting his disapproval. His reaction prompted Iris to shoot back.
“Do you think it’s wrong?” she asked.
Dan raised his hands in the air.
“I’m staying out of it,” he responded. “It’s not my business.”
“Surface history may be the most important subject out there,” Iris said. “We need to know where we came from. Our world now is just a construct. It’s artificial. We are nothing but… but remnants of a flourishing world. Through surface history, we learn the truth about humanity. We can learn that we are powerful. We can expand, build empires, travel across oceans, climb peaks and even send machines to other worlds. All the things we hold dear to us, math, literature, language, even your science, we would not have if it weren’t for the surface. Do you think we should lose that connection to the past?”
Suddenly it occurred to Iris that all other conversations had stopped and all eyes were on her. She scanned the room and saw only attentive faces looking up at her. That was when she realized that she was standing. She had not remembered standing.
“Well,” said Tim.
Iris sat down quietly and sunk in her chair, feeling more embarrassed now than ever. She wondered what Dan thought about her rant. Then she wondered why she even cared what he thought.
Suddenly there was a slow applause coming from behind her. Iris turned to see a short man she remembered meeting before. He was the head of the history department. He had darker skin, oily black hair and a thick black beard. His dark brown button-down shirt seemed a size or two too big for his small body and his black bow tie looked awkward on his neck.
Iris stood up again. She did not know why, but it felt right. She faced him and held out her right hand. He shook it and looked at her for a moment and then looked around the room at the others.
“That’s what I like to see,” he said. “Hiring passionate teachers. Think what you will of the controversy, I know you are all intellectuals and most if not all of you choose to believe the history of the surface, but if there are any among you who do not believe the truth, you should at least appreciate her passion for her study.”
He let go of her hand and looked back at her again.
“Do you remember me?” he asked.
Iris remembered him, but could not remember his name. She debated what to say. Don’t mess up again, she told herself. In the end she simply said, “I do.”
The man nodded.
“Jorge Gonzalez,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.” He turned and faced the others. “This is Iris Vitneskja,” he said, this time addressing the whole room. “We’re changing up our history curriculum this year. She will be teaching pre-Descent history classes. I hope that’s not going to be a problem.”
Iris searched around. She was surprised to see this news cause such a reaction among the teachers. As the belief in surface era history slowly faded away through the generations following the Descent, the subject had grown to become one of much controversy, particularly among the less educated. Only a few years ago, the Education Department of the Atlantic Federation decided to pull surface history from its mandatory subjects. Apparently the morality of teaching the right curriculum was of no concern to President Ortega’s administration. Now it became an issue for the schools to tackle on their own and each school handled it their own way.
Morality was irrelevant to the government, as Richard Rorty would have said. Law was merely an instrument of power, nothing more. Rorty was a man of Iris’s own heart, an old philosopher from the surface days. He strongly advocated the study of history so that the same mistakes would not be made again. If only the government had the brains to see it too, she thought, then we would not be in this mess. But it seemed the only part of Rorty’s teachings the government was concerned with was the part about instilling power over morality. She expected no less from the Federation but not from fellow educators
For a while the room was silent. All eyes were now on the man named Jorge. Iris decided to sit down again but Jorge remained standing. He looked around the room, slowly bobbing his head. But soon the silence was broken by a younger brown haired woman in a green dress seated directly across the room. She had a pretty body and was clearly aware of it by the way she dressed herself. The dress fit her form perfectly and was complimented by her jewelry; shimmering golden bracelets, a white pearl necklace and silver stars dangling from her pierced ears. Her makeup was finely applied. It must’ve taken her awhile, thought Iris, comparing it to her own makeup, not nearly as pretty as the work done by the woman in front of her.
“It’s not that we don’t believe surface history, Jorge,” the woman in green began. “It’s that whenever we even mention the words pre-Descent, a swarm of complaints flood in like the walls of the station broke open.”
“It’s just all the attention,” another voice chimed in. This time it came from the Sub-Saharan looking man to Greyson’s left. His voice was loud and confident, but also worried.
Iris leaned forward to get a better view of the man. He was thin, near in age to the two brothers and wore a clean orange button-down shirt with a black tie. His face was unattractive. His eyes seemed abnormally high up and wide apart, the back of his head was long and protruding and his eyeballs looked like they were going to pop right out of his head.
“It’s not just the parents that are a problem. Parents will complain about anything. If we change our curriculum like this, think of the media coverage this will bring to the school. Do we want that attention?” the odd looking man continued.
Iris was glad these questions were directed towards Jorge and not her. Whatever confidence she had built up in her conversation with Dan had disappeared once all eyes stuck onto her. She slowly turned around in her chair, eager to see Jorge’s reaction.
“Listen, your complaints are valid. We have given this great thought, trust me. I talked very closely to Tim about this and we think it is the best course of action. The students should be taught the truth, no matter what backlash may follow. Everything
Iris said just now was right and I think you should all listen to her arguments. As much as I welcome your criticism, I will hear no more of it now. If you want to talk about it later, feel free to bring it up to me privately when this orientation meeting is over.”
And with those words, Jorge quietly walked across the room and found an open seat, ironically next to the woman in green who had criticized the new curriculum only seconds ago. The room remained silent as he did so, but the silence was soon interrupted by the principle.
“Well,” Tim said, standing up. “Now that we have everybody’s attention, I guess we’ll start the meeting.” The large man held up his wrist and checked his watch. “We’re a bit early, but it looks like we’re all here.”
Dan leaned over to Iris.
“Hell of a first day,” he whispered.
Iris smiled. Hell of a first day.
The principle had a big grin on his face. Iris could not tell if it was genuine or not, but suspected it was, as if the man managed to completely put the recent debate out of his memory.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began. “For those of you who are new to Harrison Middle School, I say to you, welcome. And for those of you returning, I say welcome back! So why don’t we start by going around the room and introducing ourselves?” Tim turned to his left and gestured towards Jacella. “Would you like to start us off?” he asked.
Jacella nodded and stood up. The size of her grin significantly outdid Tim’s and there was no doubt in Iris’s mind that this one was genuine for sure.
“Hello one and all,” she said looking around the room. “It’s good to see so many familiar faces. For those of you who don’t know me yet, I’m Jacella Sanyaolu. I’m the student advisor here for Harrison Middle School. I counsel the students with whatever problems they are having, but I am also here to counsel you.” She reached out her hands as if offering help to the teachers. “As a friend,” she continued, “if you ever need any help, I want you to know I’m there for you.”
“Jacella has been working here a long time,” Tim added. “And she counsels all grades.”
“Yes, that’s right,” she replied, nodding. Iris could not believe Jacella still held her smile. It was as if this woman only had one emotion. Even such trivial information as to what grades she counseled seemed to bring joy to her face.
“Alright, so shall we move on? You’ve all just been introduced to Iris,” Tim said.
Iris looked over at him, waiting for him to say more. But when he did not go on, Iris realized she was supposed to be introducing herself now. She nervously stood up and flattened out her blouse.
“Uh, yes. Hello,” she said. “I’m Iris, as Tim just mentioned. As you all heard earlier, I’m the new history teacher, and yes, I will be teaching solely pre-Descent history.”
Iris could not think of anything else to add. All the eyes stuck on her, listening, waiting. Iris started to look around the room and then back towards Tim again, hoping he would tell her she was done speaking now. But instead he just stared back.
“Why don’t you tell us a little more about yourself, Iris?” Tim finally interrupted during Iris’s awkward silence. “You’re a new teacher here so we’re all a little more curious to learn about you.”
“Well,” she went on, not knowing what she was going to say, “I don’t really know what else to add. I like history, studying history, reading old texts on the Meganet. This is my first time teaching, so I’m looking forward to it. I’m interested in meeting all the students and the teachers. And… and I’m excited to bring Mr. Gonzalez’s new curriculum to the school and I hope you all agree.”
She remained standing, but stayed silent once again.
“Tell us more of your personal life. Are you married, Miss Vitneskja?” Tim asked, egging her on.
“Uh, no I am not,” she answered. “I am not married, no. Not yet, at least. Not married.” Stop answering this question, she told herself. You’ve answered it already. “Uhm… I’m alone but I used to spend a lot of time with my parents. I don’t have any kids, but I like… history.” Am I really this boring? “I don’t really know what to say.”
The room was quiet again. This time Tim stood up and nodded his head, suggesting she was finished now.
“Okay, thank you, Iris. So let’s move on,” he said, gesturing towards Dan.
Iris was so embarrassed from speaking that she paid no attention to what Dan said. By the time she started listening again, Dan was sitting down and Tim was already introducing the next teacher.
“And now we come to Dan’s brother, Greyson Georgopolis,” he said with his arm outstretched towards Greyson.
Georgopolis, Iris thought, a Greek name. The Greeks were once wise thinkers. They were the first philosophers. The ideas of the old Greeks were essential in shaping surface history. Even down here in the station, the influence of the ancient Greeks could still be seen.
Greyson stood up and nodded towards Tim.
“Thank you, Tim. I’m Greyson. Greyson Georgopolis. I’m Dan’s brother.” He let out a small chuckle. “I teach second year middle school math. It’s good to see you guys again and all the new faces as well. I’m looking forward to a good year.”
With that, he also sat down and started whispering something to his brother. Meanwhile Tim stood up and smiled, looking over towards the man to Greyson’s left who had protested earlier.
“Thank you, Greyson. So now we move on to Janis,” he said.
The man stood up.
“Thank you, Tim. Hi everybody, I’m Janis Eze. I teach psychology here for first year students.”
Iris stopped paying attention after that. The man who had criticized the new history curriculum was not even a history teacher. Somehow that did not seem fair. What right does he have to criticize another department? She thought. But then she gave it more thought and realized this actually made sense. A real historian would understand the value of pre-Descent history, she realized. In her mind, no true history teacher would ever dare criticize this curriculum. After coming to this realization, that put her mind at ease. She supposed it made sense after all. Now, if a history teacher were to challenge this curriculum, that would be different.
Various teachers continued introducing themselves one by one. Iris could hardly keep track of them all. Most of them were older than her and only a few of them were new. She tried to remember which teachers were new and which ones were returning but after a while it became hard to keep them straight. As time went on, she let her mind wander. But when it came time for the critical woman in green to introduce herself, Iris found a sudden interest in paying attention once more.
“Thanks Tim,” the woman in green said after Tim introduced her. Iris forgot to pay attention to her name. She only now started to focus.
Iris could not identify why, but she already did not like this woman. Even if she had never brought up her opposition towards the new curriculum, something about her made Iris uneasy anyway. Perhaps it was the fine pearl necklace, or the lavish dress that fit so nicely on her young attractive body. What was this woman trying to say by the way she dressed? Was this some sort of power play? Or perhaps it was not her style at all that made Iris uneasy. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself. She appeared confident, in control. This woman looked like she wanted to take on the world. So do I, Iris thought, but I don’t look this confident, or this pretty.
“As most of you know, I’m Hope Davis, the third year history teacher,” she said.
Iris felt as if her heart stopped for a moment. She paused and looked up at this woman, studying her. How could she be a history teacher? Iris wondered. Any true history teacher would know the value of pre-Descent history. Unlike the man Janis Eze, Iris knew she would not be able to forgive this woman for her opposition. A history teacher opposing the study of history, Iris thought. What a hypocrite.
“It’s good to see all of you again. I’d like to also welcome all the new teachers who will be joining us. Iris Vitneskja, I look forward to w
orking closely with you in the history department.”
She had to call me out personally. Iris knew the woman’s remarks were not genuine. She wanted to work with Iris as much as she wanted this new curriculum in place. Iris could see it in her eyes.
“Jorge and I are very excited about this new year. I hope it’s a good one for Harrison,” she said, and with that, the woman in green sat down.
Iris felt a warm pressure on her hand. She turned to her left and realized that Dan had placed his right hand on her left. She quickly pulled both hands back and held them under her desk. A trail of sweat marked where her hands had slid back across the surface of the small table.
“What is it?” she whispered to him, hoping not to cause another scene.
“You look uneasy. Are you okay?” he asked, whispering back.
Iris paused and looked around, making sure she had not caught everyone’s attention. Tim was standing up, introducing Jorge as the next person to introduce himself. Nobody seemed to be looking Iris’s way.
“That woman,” Iris responded quietly. “I don’t like her.”
Dan smiled and chuckled.
“First day of school and you’re already making enemies. Sure you’re here to be a teacher, and not a student?” he asked jokingly.
Iris pulled her hands out from under the desk and let out a deep sigh. She had not expected to make enemies so early on, but it appeared to be happening. She hoped Hope would do no more to provoke her. As she stared into the eyes of the outspoken brown haired tauntress, Iris remembered back to the Principle of Generic Consistency, a concept she studied from a long dead surface philosopher Alan Gewirth. If people do not treat others with respect, they lose the respect of others. She hoped it would not come to that.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I haven’t had a real job like this before.”
Dan reached over and patted her on the back.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’ll get better.”
Iris looked up as Jorge continued whatever it was he had been saying.
“- and hopefully this year will be a good one for Harrison. So I wish luck to you all!” he said.
