TM-235: Show us where you live
Show us where you live.
I live in the universe designated 616, the Milky Way galaxy, the solar system Sol, the planet Earth, the United States of America, the state of New York, Westchester County, the city of Salem Center, at 1407 Greymalkin Lane. The building that stands at this precise designation is one which has been rebuilt many times, and has carried several different names. But at the moment, it stands firmly upon the foundation of its most recent construction, and is known to the world as the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning.
Recently, it’s come to my attention that some question the purpose of this institute. Some believe the X-Men, and the school, to be a military force no better than Magneto’s Brotherhood; some believe us to be an ineffective conglomerate of tree-hugging hippies, talking in circles and bringing about little real change. And while I cannot completely deny either formulation, I feel it’s about time someone residing at this latitude and longitude (41n20, 73w36) took the time to explain what we truly are.
This building is, first and foremost, a school. It is a school for the education of mutant children who have nowhere else to turn. A school for those who would be tormented in their home towns, threatened with violence and driven to depression. It may not be the safest location on the planet, but for many mutants, a safe haven does not truly exist. Here at Xavier’s, we are able treat the students as human beings. We teach them everything they need to survive in the world - not just the reading, writing, and arithmetic (and science, history, computers, economics, and foreign languages) that their home teachers would not be able to convey without staring in horror at their students’ scales and beaks, but the self-defense tactics necessary to defend themselves against a world that still, after all this time, hates and fears them. We teach our students to use their powers capably and responsibly, so that they can benefit, and not harm, themselves and others. And when they skin their knees or develop strep throat, we are able to give them a bandage that will stick to semi-gelatinous skin, or antibiotics that will not interact badly with a sonic screech.
There’s no point denying the other aspect of this building: its existence as the headquarters of the superhero team, or teams, known as the X-Men. We do, indeed, have a scientific laboratory, a Danger training room, a mutant-locating device known as Cerebra, and an airplane hangar underneath the basketball court. We do, frequently, use this equipment, and our training, to go out into the world and battle monsters and would-be villainous despots. Sometimes, we win. Sometimes, we lose. But every time, we try our best to make this world a better place - for mutants and non-mutants alike. We try to show the world that mutants, like baseline humans, can be good or bad - and that we X-Men, like the Avengers or Fantastic Four, are the so-called “good” guys, and have devoted ourselves to the protection of our entire city, county, state, country, planet, solar system, galaxy, and universe for over a decade.
Sometimes, we make plans that don’t come to fruition. We do often “talk in circles.” I imagine every organization does. And we do sometimes, out of necessity, become militaristic in our approaches. Sometimes, there is collateral damage. But I do believe that we have done much good, for the cause of mutant rights and for the world in general, and I refuse to feel ashamed of those accomplishments. We have executed rescue operations after tragedies, started mutant charity foundations, and - if I may take the opportunity to toot my own horn - cured a virus that threatened every mutant on the planet. We are the X-Men, and I am proud to say that.
There is, of course, a third purpose to this expansive mansion, which I have as of yet only alluded to. But it is, perhaps, its most important purpose: that of a home for its residents. I have lived here since I was a teenager, when it was still Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and nowhere else have I ever felt as secure, comfortable, and loved as I do within its oft-collapsing walls. The X-Men are a superhero team, and a teaching staff, but they are also a family. And it is that aspect of this institute, more than anything else, that I cannot imagine losing.
I live in the universe designated 616, the Milky Way galaxy, the solar system Sol, the planet Earth, the United States of America, the state of New York, Westchester County, the city of Salem Center, at 1407 Greymalkin Lane. The building that stands at this precise designation is one which has been rebuilt many times, and has carried several different names. But at the moment, it stands firmly upon the foundation of its most recent construction, and is known to the world as the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning.
Recently, it’s come to my attention that some question the purpose of this institute. Some believe the X-Men, and the school, to be a military force no better than Magneto’s Brotherhood; some believe us to be an ineffective conglomerate of tree-hugging hippies, talking in circles and bringing about little real change. And while I cannot completely deny either formulation, I feel it’s about time someone residing at this latitude and longitude (41n20, 73w36) took the time to explain what we truly are.
This building is, first and foremost, a school. It is a school for the education of mutant children who have nowhere else to turn. A school for those who would be tormented in their home towns, threatened with violence and driven to depression. It may not be the safest location on the planet, but for many mutants, a safe haven does not truly exist. Here at Xavier’s, we are able treat the students as human beings. We teach them everything they need to survive in the world - not just the reading, writing, and arithmetic (and science, history, computers, economics, and foreign languages) that their home teachers would not be able to convey without staring in horror at their students’ scales and beaks, but the self-defense tactics necessary to defend themselves against a world that still, after all this time, hates and fears them. We teach our students to use their powers capably and responsibly, so that they can benefit, and not harm, themselves and others. And when they skin their knees or develop strep throat, we are able to give them a bandage that will stick to semi-gelatinous skin, or antibiotics that will not interact badly with a sonic screech.
There’s no point denying the other aspect of this building: its existence as the headquarters of the superhero team, or teams, known as the X-Men. We do, indeed, have a scientific laboratory, a Danger training room, a mutant-locating device known as Cerebra, and an airplane hangar underneath the basketball court. We do, frequently, use this equipment, and our training, to go out into the world and battle monsters and would-be villainous despots. Sometimes, we win. Sometimes, we lose. But every time, we try our best to make this world a better place - for mutants and non-mutants alike. We try to show the world that mutants, like baseline humans, can be good or bad - and that we X-Men, like the Avengers or Fantastic Four, are the so-called “good” guys, and have devoted ourselves to the protection of our entire city, county, state, country, planet, solar system, galaxy, and universe for over a decade.
Sometimes, we make plans that don’t come to fruition. We do often “talk in circles.” I imagine every organization does. And we do sometimes, out of necessity, become militaristic in our approaches. Sometimes, there is collateral damage. But I do believe that we have done much good, for the cause of mutant rights and for the world in general, and I refuse to feel ashamed of those accomplishments. We have executed rescue operations after tragedies, started mutant charity foundations, and - if I may take the opportunity to toot my own horn - cured a virus that threatened every mutant on the planet. We are the X-Men, and I am proud to say that.
There is, of course, a third purpose to this expansive mansion, which I have as of yet only alluded to. But it is, perhaps, its most important purpose: that of a home for its residents. I have lived here since I was a teenager, when it was still Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and nowhere else have I ever felt as secure, comfortable, and loved as I do within its oft-collapsing walls. The X-Men are a superhero team, and a teaching staff, but they are also a family. And it is that aspect of this institute, more than anything else, that I cannot imagine losing.