Dorsai: Jan

"I have learned much from the teachers that I have had here – some have taught me the pleasures of good health, or of the purity of mathematics and science. Others, however, have taught me the incomprehensibility of 'interpreted' literature; or doctrine accepted as true, but without proof of their claims. Still others have shown me what the consequences are of having one's dreams and aspirations denied, and discarded as useless, or without merit. One, in particular, has shown me what it is like to be subjected to the arbitrary whims of an embittered, soul-less tyrant that has been put in control of eager young minds.

"To their credit, I have learned the most good from those who taught me for the love of the teaching; who taught me not for the money, but the expression on my face when I finally comprehended what they were showing me; who taught me so that I might KNOW their subjects, and get from those subjects the same joy as those who taught them. To those teachers, I say 'Thank you', with respect and admiration and gratitude. To the others, I say 'A pox on you, and your houses!' – what you do denigrates those who are obliged to share their profession with you. What you do is a harmful, hateful, wicked thing; to take a young mind, and mangle it for your own warped pleasure.

"I was taught a great many facts and figures and other bits of information; but precious little time was spent teaching me how to think – independently, on my own, to question and answer, to identify and solve real life problems.

"One of the things that I was instructed in was love. Love of me by God, how I should show God my love, and how I should love my fellow humans.

What I was not instructed in, though, was love itself – what it is, what it isn't, how to know it, how to find it, how to identify it, and how to measure it.

"In the subjects of how to think, and love, this school failed me, miserably. I do not mean 'failed' as in not passing a course, but failed as in not having the course to teach.

"Through my great fortune, there was one person who rescued me from the abyss of ignorance this school had left in my heart, and mind. This person not only taught me what love is, but showed me, by giving of himself without hesitation and without restraint. This person showed me that it IS possible to know love – what it is and isn't, how to give it and accept it, how to measure it – and to treasure it, above all else.

"This person taught me how to think – to question, to seek out the answers to things I did not know, to find solutions to problems on my own, to make my own decisions.

"While this school taught me the theories of morals and ethics and all the rest, this person showed me, through his own example, what morality is; what ethics truly are; what integrity really means.

"In short, this person has given me an emotional, psychological, mental, and yes, even physical, philosophical basis for my life. I do not mean philosophy as it is taught in this school – a contest between arbitrary schools of one thought or another – but philosophy as a means of finding answers, as it was intended. The philosophy I have learned from this person is not that of Kant versus Hegel versus Santayana, but that of "What is it?" and "How do I know it?" and "What does it mean?".

"As evidence that what he taught me was a success, I need only point out the difference between this speech, and the others you shall hear today – I stand here to offer my own thoughts and opinions, while others offer meaningless platitudes and neutral bromides.

"My goal, my desire, my challenge to you – students, teachers, guests, and faculty alike – is to make this the last time you have to hear a story such as mine.

"Through his love, my benefactor has given me the desire to make a change.

"Through his intelligence, he has given me the tools to make change possible.

"Through his example, he has given me the courage to make change happen.

"Thank you, and good afternoon."

Dead silence reigned as she retook her seat on the stage.

Until the Bishop stood up, applauding her – then he was quickly joined not only by the students, but most of the audience and faculty, as well.

Even from where I was seated, I could see her blush as she tried to keep a straight face.

The applause went on for a good 5 minutes, embarrassing the hell out of her, even as she looked at me in pride – and I looked at her with love.

Compared to that, the rest of the speeches did sound pretty lame – and the speakers knew it – most of them cut their time short, so as not to look any more foolish than necessary. Far sooner than anyone expected, it was time for the diplomas to actually be handed out.

There were the obligatory hoots and catcalls and cheers as different students got their diplomas – but only Kelly received applause from the time her name was called, to the time she sat down again.

When the ceremonies ended, I quickly found Kelly – and when she saw me, she all but launched herself into my arms, where I held her tightly as a number of onlookers smiled. After a brief kiss, we looked up to see the Bishop coming toward us – a smile on his face, as well.

When he got close, he said "I trust that you are Mr. Marshall, and the gentleman Kelly has been speaking so highly of."

I answered him by saying "I am Mr. Marshall – call me Dan, please. I have my doubts that I'm the guy she's been referring to, however."

He saw Kelly give me the Goober look, and laughed, saying "If you'll follow me, Dan – and you, too, Kelly – there are some things that I'd like to discuss with you in the administrators office."

Kelly moved next to me, and I put my arm around her as the Bishop led us.

When we got there, he gestured that we should take the chairs in front of the desk, while he sat behind it – leaving Jenkins to stand.

The Bishop looked at Kelly, and said "That was quite a speech, young lady. I can only hope that you learned some of what you said in our school."

"I did, sir – but it was Dan that taught me the rest; the important parts."

"Indeed. What you just said, in itself, is a sad commentary on what this school has become. I find myself here before you, indicted on two counts of neglect. Evidence of the first count, the more serious, is that speech you just made. Evidence of the second, only slightly less serious, is the fight you had to go through to make it. We're here to rectify both of those problems."

"How so, sir?", I asked.

"First, I want to apologize again, to both of you, in person. What you had to go through was unacceptable – for ANY school, never mind the kind we've tried to be. Second, I would like to solicit your input, Dan, on how we can accomplish the goals that Kelly set out for us in her speech."

I looked at him, and saw that he was quite serious about wanting to make the school more like what Kelly had called for.

"Sir" – "Call me Kevin, please – you, too, Kelly" – "Kevin, I'm sure you already know the changes that would be necessary, and how to implement them. And I'm equally certain that you know that the change would, by necessity, be a drastic one."

"Yes, Dan, on all counts, as far as you went. But what you're missing, though, is the fact that it was under my guidance that this school deteriorated to this point. Not to put too fine a point on it, but since I let it get this way, I'm not sure I'm the right one to fix it. I'm also told by a number of people – Jan's and Susan's fathers, for starters – that you have an uncommonly fine analytical mind. I am also assured that you are almost painfully honest and truthful, regardless of the potential consequences. I need both of those traits – desperately, I think."

I looked at Kelly, and she subtlety shrugged to me, as if willing to give it a try. I looked at the Bishop, and said "Kevin, if you'll give me a few moments to think it through, I'll give you an off to top of my head analysis. If you want something more, I'd need a little more time."