(no subject)
Have Apprentices really changed so much since I was one? I've been hearing a lot about dissatisfaction, which was never really a major problem for me or my classmates. Frustration, stress? Naturally. Failure of motivation, sense of betrayal by the higher ranks? No. Are we screwing something up in our teaching? Is the younger generation really just more obnoxious and self-centered? Or is this getting blown totally out of proportion?
Have to keep from blowing this up even bigger in my head. I'm mostly fine with joking with Apprentices, bantering and the like, but if there's a serious problem, I really need to know it.
Healer Lounge
Brady is, at rise, perched on the edge of a chair, tapping a rolled hide against his hand as he watches a junior apprentice half-skip out of the room towards the great hall and the world outside. His expression is pensive, his eyes a bit darker than usual.
Tuval emerges from the old-people wing (otherwise known as the journeymen and masters hall) and heads directly for the klah pot. He looks tired, as he often does before he starts with his klah. "Mmmm-uh. Mornin'." He pours a mug with morning caution.
Brady glances up at the sound of a voice, turning to look over his shoulder at the approaching Tuval. "Morning," he returns, looking considerably more awake. He taps the hide against his hand again, then shakes his head and tucks it into a pocket. He swings himself up to his feet and crosses to the klah pot beside Tuval. "Sleep all right?"
Tuval rubs at the bridge of his nose. "Uh. Had a little trouble in the middle of night. Mmm. Klah." He takes a deep swallow of his klah then lets out a relieved sigh. "Ahhhhhhhhhh. How're you doing? You're up kinda early."
"I was out jogging," Brady explains. "Hit the baths, and came back here." He pours himself a mug of tea, then turns to lean against the table, taking a sip and lowering the mug. "What are you teaching this turn? E&E again and... what, bonehealing?"
Tuval mms into his klah mug and nods. "Yeah. Good term as far as I'm concerned. Two junior apprentice courses for you this term, right?" He moves over to take a seat nearby, flopping down with a small sigh.
Brady follows Tuval, settling into a chair at right angles to Tuval's, facing him. "Yeah. First aid again, and anatomy." He pauses. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" His hands curl around his cup and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
Tuval looks around at Brady. "Uh, sure...though I may not be completely coherent yet." He takes another large swig, attempting to remedy that particular problem. "What's on your mind?"
"There's a student in one of my classes," Brady replies, and his eyes move to the door through with the apprentice so recently exited, leaving little doubt as to which it is. "He's bright. One of the top in the class, really, as far as brains go. But he's slacking a bit. There have been a few assignments he's handed in late already. I want to be flexible with that, because I know junior apprentice turn is rough, and I won't penalize anyone too harshly for slipping a day on a single assignment. But this is the fourth he's handed in the morning after it's due. And I'm fairly sure he just stayed up all night to do it."
Tuval frowns in the direction of the retreated back. "Hm. That's a tricky situation," he agrees. "He's on the path to screwing up royally. There are adjustments you could make to your policies to make late work add up; 10 points off each assignment the first time it's late, 11 for the second day and so on. But mostly, I think..." He frowns. "He needs a talking to. You can't do your healing a day late."
"Yeah." Brady makes a face, looks down into his teacup, then drain it as though it were a whiskey sours, complete with a wrinkle of his nose and a faint shake of his head afterwards. "I just didn't anticipate this when I built my class rules, and I feel bad about changing the rules of the game mid-stream. Eh. I'll talk with him after class. I just get this sense that in spite of his intelligence, he's willing to settle for a passing grade."
Tuval grimaces and nods. "Yeah, I have to admit, I can understand the temptation. But the issue is that the rules aren't made to be exploited, and it sounds like your apprentice is working your system. And it's not like you can't see it after this kind of pattern develops."
"Yeah, it's pretty blatant," Brady acknowledges. He makes another brief face, then pushes to his feet, apparently just from an urge to move around a bit and burn some energy. He takes a few steps and turns to lean on the back of a padded armchair, only then noticing a newcomer to the room. "Morning," he greets Shendan with a smile.
Shendan steps in, eyes bleary from sleep, but he looks awake enough now. His pause in the doorway is made brief by the greeting. "Good morning," he replies respectfully to Brady, returning the smile. "Mind if I come in and bother you all?"
"Public room," Tuval replies to Shendan, making an open handed gesture with the hand not holding his morning klah mug. "Did you have any specific journeyman harassments in mind for this morning? It's really too early for me to defend myself effectively against anything but attempts to steal my klah."
"And careful if you want to try that," Brady says in addendum to Tuval's words. "He fights dirty." He flashes his fellow journeyman a grin, then asks Shendan, "You're up early. Sleep okay?"
Possibly some of Shendan's thoughts show themselves on his face; his lip twitches. He can think of a few journeyman harassments offhand. "Oh, I slept all right. Just wanted to get some peace and quiet before everybody else wakes up." He pauses, moving to a couch near them and sinking into it. "Though /somebody/ was snoring." Shaking his head, he looks back at Brady hopefully. "Is the klah still warm?"
Tuval chuckles. "Have I ever expressed how glad I am to not be living in dormitories any more? It's a lot." He gestures to the pitcher. "Yeah, it's pretty fresh, actually. Strong too." And based on Tuval's tone, he approves.
Brady is drinking tea, so has to defer to Tuval for an answer to that. "I swear, that stuff is toxic," he says. "Much better for late at night, when you're trying to get things done, than first thing in the morning. First thing in the morning, a steak, a run, and a bath is far more effective."
Shendan makes a face. "A run? Better to run later at night, then a steak, then take the bath." He picks himself up off the couch and goes to carefully pour the pitcher's contents into the biggest mug he can find. "Steaming, too," he says, with pleasure. "Excellent." And, mug held tight in two hands, returns to the couch. He gives it a moment of thought, blowing lightly on the klah, before venturing, in as poliely interested a tone as he can muster, "Not to eavesdrop, but who's harassing journeymen?"
Tuval raises his mug in salute to Shendan as he proclaims the klah excellent. "Oh, no one really is. They wouldn't dare, for we are so fearsome and intimidating. Especially when it's early morning and I can barely string two sentences together."
Brady snorts out a brief laugh at Tuval's words. "Yeah, that's us. Fearsome and intimidating. And old and decrepit... hey, speaking of old, did I hear you had a turnday a couple of days ago, Shendan?" He steps around the chair again and lowers himself to sit in it.
Shendan raises his own mug to toast Tuval and sips, grinning. "I could remedy that if you're feeling left out, sir," he offers cheerfully, after he swallows fast so as not to burn his tongue. Glancing at Brady, he hedges, "I might have."
Tuval grimaces. "Ugh. I've got a turnday coming up pretty shortly; don't remind me. They aren't exactly causes for celebration when you get much beyond your apprenticeship." He lifts a shoulder, then lets it fall again. "I promise not to sing at you."
Brady tosses an ironic look at Tuval. "Yeah, because you're just pushing the brink of decripitude over there. You're what, thirty? Don't let anyone over fifty ever overhear you complaining about turndays. They'll beat you with canes or something." He grins back at Shendan. "Congratulations, anyway. Turndays are definitely fun. Celebrating another turn of progress... and you can see it, too. Moving up through the ranks."
Shendan gives Brady's knot a closer look, then glances at his own. "I don't mind having a turnday this time of year. I get older and a promotion, if I'm lucky, at the same time. I just-" he grins, embarrassed. "I managed to keep it a secret from most everybody. No getting chased about to get a hit or anything." He says this matter-of-factly, as if assuming they know the custom well. "I'm waiting on seventeen myself."
Tuval smiles wryly at Brady. "Yeah, well, I'm the one who actually uses a cane," he replies dryly. He offers Shendan a wry smile. "Well, if only some of the journeymen and masters know, then you're pretty safe. We don't hit apprentices for having turndays. Just for spilling klah."
"We have access to your records, alas," Brady says with a grin. "We cheat." His eyes move back to Tuval, and for an instant, his expression wavers at Tuval's dry tone. He hesitates, then offers only a nod and a brief, faint smile.
Shendan smirks good-naturedly at Tuval, completely missing the journeymen's exchange. "I guess I'd better go drink it where you can't see me, then." He stands with exaggerated care for the mug in his hand. "I have notes to review. Somebody told me a term started recently." Smiling at both of them, he exits. "Good morning, gentlemen."
Tuval shakes his head as Shendan walks out. "When did all these apprentices start getting the idea they could be so cheeky to us fearsome, intimidating journeymen?" he asks rhetorically.
"It's all your fault," Brady says. "You were the one that insisted on suspending the ritual whippings." He leans back in his chair and says, "Although, seriously... it is actually becoming a bit of an issue in some ways. Have you noticed? Celeste was telling me something about apprentices complaining they weren't being 'motivated', /I/ was talking with an apprentice who claimed the hall 'threw its apprentices to the snakes' -- seriously. Those were his words. I think people are starting to get the sense we're a day-care or something."
Tuval looks around at Brady, frowning. "Yeah, I heard about that 'motivated' thing," he agrees. "But...snakes? That's new." He shakes his head. "I hope there's more to that story than that, 'cause I don't get it. I don't get what they're thinking. Which may also just be that I'm older and a smidgeon less selfish than I was a decade and a half ago."
"Not much more," Brady says, folding his arms and heaving a brief sigh. "They were talking about how we ask apprentices to leave after two turns with no advancement. And how we'll work forever to save a life, but throw our apprentices out for 'only' a demonstrated lack of aptitude for the craft proven over two subsequent turns."
Tuval stares at Brady for a long minute. "And for this, we're throwing our apprentices to the snakes?" He sounds incredulous. "Oh, man. I think I'm glad I don't know who it is. Because that really smokes my sausage."
"Yeah." Brady sits and broods for a few seconds in silence. "Eh. Everything looks so different from this side of the journeyman knot, you know."
Tuval smiles wryly and nods. "Yeah. It's a pretty radical shift in perspective. I have to say, though, the idea that you could flunk out if you screwed up two terms running? Never really bothered me. In fact, I'd be more than a little nervous about someone who scraped by after flunking several times taking my life in their hands."
"Yeah, no kidding," Brady says. "And I'd get pretty pissed off if my teachers were spending their energy on trying to coax someone like that through the classes and taking up time that could have been used on those of us who were actually achieving something." He makes a brief face, then repeats, "Eh. It was one of the marginal ones talking like that, anyway, I think. We'll see if he makes it through this turn."
Tuval finishes off the last of his klah and pushes himself to his feet. "Well. I don't want to take any glee in this idea 'cause really...there's no good here. I should get myself ready to educate some bright eyed youngsters."
"Yeah, me too," Brady acknowledges. He pauses, then says, "You know, you should look into the idea of some kind of early morning exercise. It'd be good for you to get out and around some, and really does help you wake up -- endorphins and all that."
"And perhaps I could drop a couple dozen pounds, which would surely be healthy for me," Tuval tacks on, sounding resigned to the inevitability of accepting some advice he already knows is good. "I'll...see about it." He grimaces and moves back toward his room, presumably to finish his morning preparations. "Catch you later."
"Bye," Brady says, leaving it at that for now, then.
Have to keep from blowing this up even bigger in my head. I'm mostly fine with joking with Apprentices, bantering and the like, but if there's a serious problem, I really need to know it.
Healer Lounge
Brady is, at rise, perched on the edge of a chair, tapping a rolled hide against his hand as he watches a junior apprentice half-skip out of the room towards the great hall and the world outside. His expression is pensive, his eyes a bit darker than usual.
Tuval emerges from the old-people wing (otherwise known as the journeymen and masters hall) and heads directly for the klah pot. He looks tired, as he often does before he starts with his klah. "Mmmm-uh. Mornin'." He pours a mug with morning caution.
Brady glances up at the sound of a voice, turning to look over his shoulder at the approaching Tuval. "Morning," he returns, looking considerably more awake. He taps the hide against his hand again, then shakes his head and tucks it into a pocket. He swings himself up to his feet and crosses to the klah pot beside Tuval. "Sleep all right?"
Tuval rubs at the bridge of his nose. "Uh. Had a little trouble in the middle of night. Mmm. Klah." He takes a deep swallow of his klah then lets out a relieved sigh. "Ahhhhhhhhhh. How're you doing? You're up kinda early."
"I was out jogging," Brady explains. "Hit the baths, and came back here." He pours himself a mug of tea, then turns to lean against the table, taking a sip and lowering the mug. "What are you teaching this turn? E&E again and... what, bonehealing?"
Tuval mms into his klah mug and nods. "Yeah. Good term as far as I'm concerned. Two junior apprentice courses for you this term, right?" He moves over to take a seat nearby, flopping down with a small sigh.
Brady follows Tuval, settling into a chair at right angles to Tuval's, facing him. "Yeah. First aid again, and anatomy." He pauses. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" His hands curl around his cup and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
Tuval looks around at Brady. "Uh, sure...though I may not be completely coherent yet." He takes another large swig, attempting to remedy that particular problem. "What's on your mind?"
"There's a student in one of my classes," Brady replies, and his eyes move to the door through with the apprentice so recently exited, leaving little doubt as to which it is. "He's bright. One of the top in the class, really, as far as brains go. But he's slacking a bit. There have been a few assignments he's handed in late already. I want to be flexible with that, because I know junior apprentice turn is rough, and I won't penalize anyone too harshly for slipping a day on a single assignment. But this is the fourth he's handed in the morning after it's due. And I'm fairly sure he just stayed up all night to do it."
Tuval frowns in the direction of the retreated back. "Hm. That's a tricky situation," he agrees. "He's on the path to screwing up royally. There are adjustments you could make to your policies to make late work add up; 10 points off each assignment the first time it's late, 11 for the second day and so on. But mostly, I think..." He frowns. "He needs a talking to. You can't do your healing a day late."
"Yeah." Brady makes a face, looks down into his teacup, then drain it as though it were a whiskey sours, complete with a wrinkle of his nose and a faint shake of his head afterwards. "I just didn't anticipate this when I built my class rules, and I feel bad about changing the rules of the game mid-stream. Eh. I'll talk with him after class. I just get this sense that in spite of his intelligence, he's willing to settle for a passing grade."
Tuval grimaces and nods. "Yeah, I have to admit, I can understand the temptation. But the issue is that the rules aren't made to be exploited, and it sounds like your apprentice is working your system. And it's not like you can't see it after this kind of pattern develops."
"Yeah, it's pretty blatant," Brady acknowledges. He makes another brief face, then pushes to his feet, apparently just from an urge to move around a bit and burn some energy. He takes a few steps and turns to lean on the back of a padded armchair, only then noticing a newcomer to the room. "Morning," he greets Shendan with a smile.
Shendan steps in, eyes bleary from sleep, but he looks awake enough now. His pause in the doorway is made brief by the greeting. "Good morning," he replies respectfully to Brady, returning the smile. "Mind if I come in and bother you all?"
"Public room," Tuval replies to Shendan, making an open handed gesture with the hand not holding his morning klah mug. "Did you have any specific journeyman harassments in mind for this morning? It's really too early for me to defend myself effectively against anything but attempts to steal my klah."
"And careful if you want to try that," Brady says in addendum to Tuval's words. "He fights dirty." He flashes his fellow journeyman a grin, then asks Shendan, "You're up early. Sleep okay?"
Possibly some of Shendan's thoughts show themselves on his face; his lip twitches. He can think of a few journeyman harassments offhand. "Oh, I slept all right. Just wanted to get some peace and quiet before everybody else wakes up." He pauses, moving to a couch near them and sinking into it. "Though /somebody/ was snoring." Shaking his head, he looks back at Brady hopefully. "Is the klah still warm?"
Tuval chuckles. "Have I ever expressed how glad I am to not be living in dormitories any more? It's a lot." He gestures to the pitcher. "Yeah, it's pretty fresh, actually. Strong too." And based on Tuval's tone, he approves.
Brady is drinking tea, so has to defer to Tuval for an answer to that. "I swear, that stuff is toxic," he says. "Much better for late at night, when you're trying to get things done, than first thing in the morning. First thing in the morning, a steak, a run, and a bath is far more effective."
Shendan makes a face. "A run? Better to run later at night, then a steak, then take the bath." He picks himself up off the couch and goes to carefully pour the pitcher's contents into the biggest mug he can find. "Steaming, too," he says, with pleasure. "Excellent." And, mug held tight in two hands, returns to the couch. He gives it a moment of thought, blowing lightly on the klah, before venturing, in as poliely interested a tone as he can muster, "Not to eavesdrop, but who's harassing journeymen?"
Tuval raises his mug in salute to Shendan as he proclaims the klah excellent. "Oh, no one really is. They wouldn't dare, for we are so fearsome and intimidating. Especially when it's early morning and I can barely string two sentences together."
Brady snorts out a brief laugh at Tuval's words. "Yeah, that's us. Fearsome and intimidating. And old and decrepit... hey, speaking of old, did I hear you had a turnday a couple of days ago, Shendan?" He steps around the chair again and lowers himself to sit in it.
Shendan raises his own mug to toast Tuval and sips, grinning. "I could remedy that if you're feeling left out, sir," he offers cheerfully, after he swallows fast so as not to burn his tongue. Glancing at Brady, he hedges, "I might have."
Tuval grimaces. "Ugh. I've got a turnday coming up pretty shortly; don't remind me. They aren't exactly causes for celebration when you get much beyond your apprenticeship." He lifts a shoulder, then lets it fall again. "I promise not to sing at you."
Brady tosses an ironic look at Tuval. "Yeah, because you're just pushing the brink of decripitude over there. You're what, thirty? Don't let anyone over fifty ever overhear you complaining about turndays. They'll beat you with canes or something." He grins back at Shendan. "Congratulations, anyway. Turndays are definitely fun. Celebrating another turn of progress... and you can see it, too. Moving up through the ranks."
Shendan gives Brady's knot a closer look, then glances at his own. "I don't mind having a turnday this time of year. I get older and a promotion, if I'm lucky, at the same time. I just-" he grins, embarrassed. "I managed to keep it a secret from most everybody. No getting chased about to get a hit or anything." He says this matter-of-factly, as if assuming they know the custom well. "I'm waiting on seventeen myself."
Tuval smiles wryly at Brady. "Yeah, well, I'm the one who actually uses a cane," he replies dryly. He offers Shendan a wry smile. "Well, if only some of the journeymen and masters know, then you're pretty safe. We don't hit apprentices for having turndays. Just for spilling klah."
"We have access to your records, alas," Brady says with a grin. "We cheat." His eyes move back to Tuval, and for an instant, his expression wavers at Tuval's dry tone. He hesitates, then offers only a nod and a brief, faint smile.
Shendan smirks good-naturedly at Tuval, completely missing the journeymen's exchange. "I guess I'd better go drink it where you can't see me, then." He stands with exaggerated care for the mug in his hand. "I have notes to review. Somebody told me a term started recently." Smiling at both of them, he exits. "Good morning, gentlemen."
Tuval shakes his head as Shendan walks out. "When did all these apprentices start getting the idea they could be so cheeky to us fearsome, intimidating journeymen?" he asks rhetorically.
"It's all your fault," Brady says. "You were the one that insisted on suspending the ritual whippings." He leans back in his chair and says, "Although, seriously... it is actually becoming a bit of an issue in some ways. Have you noticed? Celeste was telling me something about apprentices complaining they weren't being 'motivated', /I/ was talking with an apprentice who claimed the hall 'threw its apprentices to the snakes' -- seriously. Those were his words. I think people are starting to get the sense we're a day-care or something."
Tuval looks around at Brady, frowning. "Yeah, I heard about that 'motivated' thing," he agrees. "But...snakes? That's new." He shakes his head. "I hope there's more to that story than that, 'cause I don't get it. I don't get what they're thinking. Which may also just be that I'm older and a smidgeon less selfish than I was a decade and a half ago."
"Not much more," Brady says, folding his arms and heaving a brief sigh. "They were talking about how we ask apprentices to leave after two turns with no advancement. And how we'll work forever to save a life, but throw our apprentices out for 'only' a demonstrated lack of aptitude for the craft proven over two subsequent turns."
Tuval stares at Brady for a long minute. "And for this, we're throwing our apprentices to the snakes?" He sounds incredulous. "Oh, man. I think I'm glad I don't know who it is. Because that really smokes my sausage."
"Yeah." Brady sits and broods for a few seconds in silence. "Eh. Everything looks so different from this side of the journeyman knot, you know."
Tuval smiles wryly and nods. "Yeah. It's a pretty radical shift in perspective. I have to say, though, the idea that you could flunk out if you screwed up two terms running? Never really bothered me. In fact, I'd be more than a little nervous about someone who scraped by after flunking several times taking my life in their hands."
"Yeah, no kidding," Brady says. "And I'd get pretty pissed off if my teachers were spending their energy on trying to coax someone like that through the classes and taking up time that could have been used on those of us who were actually achieving something." He makes a brief face, then repeats, "Eh. It was one of the marginal ones talking like that, anyway, I think. We'll see if he makes it through this turn."
Tuval finishes off the last of his klah and pushes himself to his feet. "Well. I don't want to take any glee in this idea 'cause really...there's no good here. I should get myself ready to educate some bright eyed youngsters."
"Yeah, me too," Brady acknowledges. He pauses, then says, "You know, you should look into the idea of some kind of early morning exercise. It'd be good for you to get out and around some, and really does help you wake up -- endorphins and all that."
"And perhaps I could drop a couple dozen pounds, which would surely be healthy for me," Tuval tacks on, sounding resigned to the inevitability of accepting some advice he already knows is good. "I'll...see about it." He grimaces and moves back toward his room, presumably to finish his morning preparations. "Catch you later."
"Bye," Brady says, leaving it at that for now, then.