… Well, damn. Osei actually had actually managed to raise a semi-valid point. That happened so seldom that it’s occurrence was practically grounds for a national holiday. Thatcher was impressed. Disappointed and irritated as well, of course, but there was definitely a begrudging niggle of appreciation for the fact that the older man had managed to piece together a theoretic lapse in his own presented argument.
"No, I didn’t think it was," Thatcher conceded first with a pleasant smile. It was an outright lie; he always felt that on some level his intelligence, his ability to manage his own life, was being called into question. That despite the endless sea of evidence to support the basic fact that he was capable of bringing himself into adulthood, people still viewed him as only sixteen (and those were the worst words, those small and inconsequential ones: only; just; not), which was why he tried his best to cut those foolish thoughts off at the knees with the sharpest sentences he could formulate.
Now, though, his concentration needed to shift to a more important problem.
"Uh," Thatcher paused. The problem with never actually having attended Ward’s class was that he had no offering to bring to the pyre meant to burn the man. This was an unforeseen complication. The teenager frowned thoughtfully, dusky blonde hair finally drooping a bit as he tilted his head to rest his jaw in the palm of his hand.
It took a few seconds (much longer than normal) for everything to snap neatly back into place.
"Unfortunately, Ward won’t divulge the content of his syllabus to me. I refuse to indulge his megalomaniac tendencies by submitting to having my abilities neutered - which is illegal, by the way - so you’ll just have to take my word that it’s far beneath my intellectual capabilities. Not that I’m trying to get a free pass here, Osei, because I’m not. I wrote Professor Ward two weeks ago when I first arrived, proposing that he give me an itemized list of required assignments so that I could complete the coursework. It’s an arrangement that I’ve already made with Professors Evans, Weymouth, Lee, and Sorrels. The benefits are noteworthy: I can complete the work faster without the distraction of unnecessary lectures and advance to something actually worthwhile, and they avoid the tediousness of having to attempt to challenge me while also dividing their attention amongst students who’ve been rightly placed at this particular scholastic level.”
Thatcher shrugged. “I still see no reason why this can’t be considered a suitable alternative, outside of the fact that Ward’s an inflexible imbecile who won’t even consider it.”
Initially, when George first looked over Thatcher's academic records, he thought the boy was nothing more than a slacker. Smart, but ultimately too lazy to do anything about it. Over time, it was clear to see that it was his arrogance that held him back. He waited patiently for Thatcher to gather his thoughts and present them with the moral indignation he'd come to expect from his student.
From what he could tell, Thatcher greatly valued his freedom and independence, and he thought very highly of his own academic capabilities. However, George did not share his belief that school was strictly about academic competence.
"Respect, Mr. Soddensee." He reprimanded his student coolly. "I understand you are frustrated with how Professor Ward handles his business, but he is still a member of this faculty. If you cannot manage that, at the very least do not actively speak with such disrespect to my face, hm?
"Now, I find it strange that your professor does not give you access to his syllabus, but on the subject of his powers--have you considered the fact his methods are not meant to cripple you, or any other malicious act? Do you find it odd that the staff has allowed him to continue his practices?" The head of house smiled gently as his ward, wanting to redirect his anger through reason. "Think about it, Mr. Soddensee. We are an institution full of uniquely gifted individuals. There are bound to be students who take the easier road for themselves and cheat on their coursework with their powers--telepathy, mind control, the possibilities are endless with creativity. Professor Ward's ability undercuts that neatly. There are merits to his ways, and I'm sorry if you do not feel that same.
"There will come a time when mutants are openly appointed positions of power and influence. Perhaps they will be one of your classmates. Perhaps even yourself. And when it comes time for you to form the laws and regulations to protect our rights and better the quality of life for mutantkind, you must keep in mind the powerlessness that those without our powers must feel. They have lived centuries believing they were the superior species, and when mutants were revealed, they now see their power and privileges threatened. Like yourself in Professor Ward's class, they may feel vulnerable and hostile. If their position is not understood or empathized with, it may lead to disaster. As mutants, we cannot take by force. We cannot use our powers to solve all problems. Your class provides you with the unique opportunity to work as if you were side by side with non-mutants. To understand and work around their limitations with your intelligence. What you could do alone with your powers, you may find that now you must work together with others to achieve. It is about mutual respect and cooperation, Mr. Soddensee. Something that I believe our government sorely needs."
George lifted an inquiring eyebrow. "But if his methods feel so invasive to you, then why not drop the class sooner? It is not our intention to ignore your rights, in fact, you had every right to drop the class if you did not agree with it. Writing the professor two weeks in advance means you should have had sufficient time to receive his answer, which I assume was to deny your suggestion, and yet you continued on with the class. Why?"
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