#Grading Equitable

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Brandy Shufutinsky

Published: Jan 23, 2024

Until about 160 years ago Black American labor was used to benefit the few, especially a small group of privileged white landowners. Today, we are still being used. Progressive academics, activists, and political leaders are constantly exploiting Black Americans as living, breathing excuses for policies that benefit progressives and their constituents but fail Black people. 

Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson has set his sights on eliminating high-achieving magnet schools in the name of equity. Currently, academically gifted students from low socioeconomic backgrounds are able to compete for entrance into high-achieving schools. One need not guess why some Black parents welcome this opportunity for their children. After all, only 17% of Black students are proficient in reading and even fewer (7%) demonstrate proficiency in math. Moreover, in 2022, fewer than 10% of Black third-grade students and just under 11% of low-income third-grade students could read at grade level. These dismal figures entail that a great many talented Black students in Chicago must suffer through classes geared not to them but to their illiterate and innumerate peers. Magnet schools offer these talented students a way out. One would think that policy makers committed to providing access to quality education for all students, not just the ones whose parents were able to send them to private schools, would increase the number of high-achieving schools, rather than eliminate them. 

So, why would Mayor Johnson want to eliminate one of the few opportunities for gifted but economically disadvantaged students to access quality education? Well, according to Chicago Public Schools Board CEO, Pedro Martinez, allowing gifted students access to quality education causes “stratification and inequity in Chicago Public Schools.” One has to wonder whether this excuse (as incoherent as it is) is sincere or whether it reflects instead a cynical push to discard selective schools that have proven to be top-tier nationally because these schools compete directly with the union-led public school system. 

In Portland, Oregon education leaders are planning to roll out a system of equitable grading that calls for teachers to consider “non-academic factors” when grading student work. Portland Public School Chief Academic Officer Kimberlee Armstrong, a supporter of the policy, argues that in order to address “biases” educators must, wait for it, engage in bias themselves, by “considering the diverse backgrounds and needs of students.” Just how does considering background rather than correct answers and knowledge acquisition reduce bias? 

Oregon’s student literacy rates are slightly better than Chicago’s but still fewer than half of students read at grade level, with Black student literacy hovering around 26%. Yet rather than provide students with the necessary resources to achieve basic literacy, Oregon policymakers are simply eliminating any method of measuring student achievement. 

We must ask ourselves, who gets lost in educational politicking? Students who desire a quality education are being sacrificed at the altar of progressive policies that do them more harm than good. When I was in the third grade my teacher suggested I be tested for the Gifted and Talented Education (GATE) program. I was attending an under-resourced, high-poverty school where the majority of students qualified for the free-lunch program, including me. My GATE score allowed me access to all of the resources that I would otherwise have missed because my socioeconomic circumstance did not allow for tutors or extracurricular activities, let alone private school tuition. Fast-forward a few decades and instead of providing support for students who find themselves in a situation similar to mine, policy makers are relegating them to mediocrity. 

Who benefits from policies that disenfranchise the most vulnerable students? Many organizations that claim to work to improve student achievement by using equity-based practices have sprouted up over recent years. They offer services to school districts, providing teacher training and curricular materials with a stated goal not of teaching students the knowledge and skills they need to succeed but of “building social justice starting in the classroom.” These organizations are very successful in using our public schools to build their client base and sell their obviously political goals of equity and social justice. When it comes to improving student achievement, however, their results are dismal. Policies that eliminate access to quality education, lower standards and reframe what knowledge is will not help Black students, it will harm them. Politicizing education by lowering expectations is a racist endeavor that denies Black Americans the credit they rightly deserve for overcoming obstacles and reaching the highest levels of success. It’s the bigotry of low expectations.

Brandy Shufutinsky is a social worker, writer, researcher, and advocate. She holds her Doctorate in International and Multicultural Education from the University of San Francisco, her MSW from the University of Southern California, and her MA in International Relations from the University of San Diego. Dr. Shufutinsky has worked towards advancing the rights of victims and survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault through practice, education, and research, and is now focusing her advocacy on developing intercultural and academic opportunities to enhance liberal democratic ideals as the director of education and community engagement with the Jewish Institute for Liberal Values. Follow her on Twitter.

==

This is what "equity" does. In order to force everybody to have equal outcomes, it has to eliminate the ability for people to overachieve or exceed others. Because that would make people jealous and would be "unfair." It can't make everybody an Elon Musk, but it can make everybody a Joe Schlub. And so "equity" always results in the lowest of the lowest common denominators. When you inevitably use force to ensure that happens, that's how you get Russia and China.

The people activists who are putting in these policies are the exact same people who put in the policies that caused this illiteracy and innumeracy in the first place.

[alberryconsulting]

Discover the Power of Equitable Grading Practices with Dr. Berry! Join us in this enlightening episode as Dr. Berry leads an inspiring exploration of transforming grading into equitable systems. Uncover the crucial connection between grading, equity, and various societal aspects. Dive into the CARTI framework – Cultural Awareness, Instructional Methodology, Curriculum Content, Academic Assessment, and Data-Driven Decision Making – and learn how to create inclusive and effective grading approaches. Elevate your educational journey with insights from an equity warrior! Watch Video Now.

[ilydeku]

teacher izuku has a girlfriend??

Regardless of the joy and spur he expelled towards the students, Izuku knew how to maintain the steady hand of keeping the class under set composure. Nothing but the intent to teach and the will to learn, an equitable relationship between the two—and it was no question. Being the most loved and favored teacher had its perks, and grandiose respect was one of them.

But no matter how mature a student has grown, having fun will always reign somewhere along their focal point. Even if that fun means encouraging their teacher in his love life.

"...-because a good relationship between your teammates makes for optimal communication, conduct, and cooperation," explained Izuku, pointing from one spot on the board to another, well immersed in his lesson. "Now, considering quirk-"

"Speaking of relationships, are you in a relationship, sir?" A student, a frivolous girl, teasingly pipes in sudden interest. Plenty of students amongst the grade claimed a crush on Deku-sensei. Of course they did: he's sweet, very tentative and understanding to all his students individually, and takes his time to really help and engrave the knowledge he possessed for them to become the best future heroes they could be. That, and mostly his physical charms. So wouldn't it be in his best interest to have a girlfriend?

Little did Izuku know that this inquiry marked the beginning of his first uncontrollable havoc.

For a moment, he hesitated, pausing midway on the convoluted diagrams drawn on the whiteboard. A strange question, but he thought nothing much of it. He turned around and crossed his arms, lazily pointing the expo marker to the girl.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that. Unrelevant, didn't see a hand raised-"

"Aw, but sir!" She draws out, slumping back in her seat. "Are you?"

Some students began to look at each other and exchange a few grins until the room began to slowly increase in volume and erupt into unintelligible chatter.

"Ahem."

The room fell into silence accordingly, but he could clearly read the expression on everyone's faces. The class was still waiting for his answer, the way they stared and leaned over their desks in anticipation. Izuku sighs and turns back to the board.

"...no, I'm not in a relationship. Moving on, the information I've drawn-"

"Really?" The girl cuts in matter of factly with a tilt of her head. "But aren't you and y/n talking??"

A chorus of engrossed 'oohs' echoed across the room and a very subtle, but defined shade of pink dusted his cheeks at the mention of you. He turned around again and attempted to regain composure of the class.

"Everyone settle down-"

"Y/n L/n? Isn't that (hero name)?? I think she's in the top 20's now."

"Yeah! I've seen her drop by the school a couple times during lunch!"

"Now that I think about it, Deku-sensei does have her come in as a guest speaker a lot..."

It was just one after another, the addition of suspicions and theories now bringing the truth to the surface. Izuku swallowed.

A loose black band around Izuku's wrist caught another student's eye and they stood up and pointed in excitement. "Look!! Deku-sensei has hair ties on his wrist!! Hair ties!!"

"Kids, please...-"

"Wow..I've never seen your class this rowdy before, Izuku!!" That voice. His head snapped toward you in surprised, totally flustered about the situation. The entire class went dead silent and turned to you, standing at the entrance of the classroom. You wave at his kids with a smile and stroll over to Izuku's desk, dropping off a bag of some sort. He watches you endearingly.

"You forgot your lunch at home, silly."

"O-Oh did I? Haha, sorry y/n. Thank you. You're on break right now, right?"

The students watched you both like a show, taking in the interaction, the body language, the words. There's no doubt you two were a thing right? Deku-sensei and (hero name)!!

And just then, you confirmed it with simple kiss on his cheek.

"Bye, Izuku! Be nice to the kids, hm?"

"You know I always am!!"

As soon as the classroom door clicked, the class burst into awe.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US???"

[vague-humanoid]

The Equitable Grading Project, a nonprofit organization that seeks to change grading practices, compared 33,000 course grades with students’ scores on standardized exams, including Advanced Placement tests and annual state assessments. The organization considered a course grade to be inaccurate if a student’s test score indicated a level of knowledge that was at least a letter grade off from what the teacher had issued. For example, a grade was classified as inaccurate if a student’s test score indicated a C-level of skills and knowledge, but the student received an A or a B in the course. In this example, a D or an F grade would also be inaccurate.

Inflated grades were more common than depressed grades. In this analysis, over 40 percent of the 33,000 grades analyzed – more than 13,000 transcript grades – were higher than they should have been, while only 16 percent or 5,300 grades were lower than they should have been.  In other words, two out of five transcript grades indicated that students were more competent in the course than they actually were, while nearly one out of six grades was lower than the student’s true understanding of the course content.

The discrepancy matters, the white paper says, because inaccurate grades make it harder to figure out which students are prepared for advanced coursework or ready for college. With inflated grades, students can be promoted to difficult courses without the foundation or extra help they need to succeed. Depressed grades can discourage a student from pursuing a subject or prompt them to drop out of school altogether. 

“This data suggests that hundreds, perhaps thousands, of students in this study may have been denied, or not even offered, opportunities that they were prepared and eligible for,” the white paper said.

@that-biracial-geek-girl @el-shab-hussein

[realcube]

dilf december

day twenty-two ⭑ kotaro bokuto ⭑ snow man!

tw: fluff, reader gets picked up, slight flashing & age gap

bokuto was terrible at maths.

so it was only natural that he would need to hire a tutor for his kids as soon as they progressed past bokuto's level of numeric ability and he could no longer help them with their homework or topics they were struggling in. hence, as soon as they returned home with worksheets about fractions, he immediately went online to find a private tutor.

however, he went on a website that had pictures of the tutors alongside their names and qualifications, meaning that he inadvertently treated his search more like a dating site than a recruitment process. that is how, despite being able to afford a tutor with a phd in maths and a masters in education, he chose you — a struggling college student who charges prices on the lower end of the scale, since you had yet to attain a teaching degree.

he couldn't have made a better decision though! by now, he had hired you for around a year, thus he has gotten to know you quite well and he can tell you work exceptionally with his children — you teach them in a way that is both comprehensive and engaging, and their grades have seen a massive improvement because of you. he couldn't be more grateful.

today it was a cold winter afternoon, and you had just finished up a lesson with his children. bokuto doesn't like to hover during the sessions but he wants to stay nearby in case you need something, so he was currently in an adjacent room and is able to overhear you say your goodbyes to the kids, as well as them packing up their textbooks and scampering off to their rooms.

he peers into the room, seeing you at the dining table, packing up your equitment. you notice him, so he offers you a bright smile, "how'd it go?" he asks.

"good." you chirp, slipping your laptop and pens neatly into your backpack, "we're working on geometry right now. they both seem to understand area, so we will work on volume next week."

bokuto has no clue what any of those words mean — he may have if you asked him 20 years ago, but not anymore — he's just glad to hear that his children aren't struggling. "volume, already?! woah, i've got a pair of little genius' in my house!" he joked, crossing his arms over his chest and walking towards the window, "that's all thanks to you, though. i'll tell them to mention you in their speeches when they accept the noble prize."

you laughed with him, and there is a little flutter in your stomach as passes you, and you not only catch the lingering scent of his fresh cologne, but you also get a peek of his muscular back — you were aware that he was a retired volleyball player, but it still astounded you how he was able to remain in such an impressive shape. it was so tempting; all you could think about when he was in the room was how much you'd like to be squished between his biceps.

while he talks away, he peers out the window that overlooks the driveway, and frowns. one of the cons of owning such a large house is that it comes with an equally massive driveway, which you always insist to park at the bottom of because you don't want to 'intrude on their space', even though bokuto has assured you several times that you're welcome to park where ever you like and parking closer would surely be more convenient for you. however, he's unaware that the real reason you continue parking so far away from the house is that you don't want to park near the rest of his expensive cars and risk damaging one of them, but you keep this secret to yourself as you don't want him to think you're an incompetent driver.

anyway, during the two hour session you had just completed with his children, it has been raining, and although it had ceased by now, the cold weather in tandem with the damp ground has rendered his entire driveway an icy slipping-hazard! to get to one of his cars could be feasible, but your car was quite a distance away, which would be a very perilous journey.

"the ground outside looks so icy.." he muses, and you shuffle up behind him, peering out the window over his shoulder.

"yeah.." you mumble, staring worriedly down at your uggs had barely any grip on the sole, indicating that you had a better chance at successfully ice-skating back to your car than walking. of course, you didn't want to complain in front of bokuto, so you said, "i'll be fine. a little fall never hurt anyone."

you make the comment with a tinge of amusement and banter in your voice, but bokuto just stares at you in horror, until he refutes with, "you could get really hurt, (y/n) and we don't want that." his parenting instincts kick-in as he explains to you the potential danger and gravity of the situation. as he does so, he guides you to the foyer, where there is a rack of shoes, and he picks up a thick pair of boots on the top shelf, "i bought these ice shoes online. they are supposed to stop you from slipping on the ice."

you nod, about to open your mouth to say 'thank you', but you catch yourself just in time, as — instead of handing them to you, like you expected — bokuto hastily straps the shoes on himself. shocked by this decision, you stagger, "oh, so are you going to walk out to my car and drive it closer?"

you stumble out the first possible idea that comes to your mind, even though it wasn't especially well thought-out. bokuto scoffs as he continues to properly fasten the ice boots, "if i did that, your car would slip and slide all over the place, no?" he asks, and though it may have sounded like a rheatorical question, bokuto was genuinely asking if he corrected predicted the outcome of that situation, which he did.

you furrow your brows, perplexed as to what course of action he planned on taking, so you finally ask, "how am i going to make it to my car if you are the one wearing the non-slip boots? shouldn't i put them on?"

he shakes his head, standing up straight and stomping each foot to ensure that he equipped the boots thoroughly, and he smiles as they remain secured to his feet. "i'll carry you!" he states merrily, like it was no big deal.

meanwhile, all the air was knocked out of your lungs at the mere thought of him carrying you. he must've quickly noticed you becoming light-headed and dissociating, as he inquires, "uh, (y/n), are you okay?"

you gulp down the lump in your throat , and it leaves a harsh sting of anxiety in its wake. "i'm fine, it's just i th—"

"okay, cool. let's go!" bokuto cheers before you are able to finish your statement, and in one swift movement, he scoops you up in his arms and effortless thrusts you straight over his shoulder, so your legs are dangling by his front and your upper body was against his back.

however, not only was this position causing all the blood to rush to your head, but also you were bend over while in a skirt which you could feel had rode up slightly, while bokuto's arm securely wrapped over your thigh, preventing you from pulling it down. so, before bokuto could possibly step outside and accidently expose you to his neighbours, you roughly squirmed in his grasp and protested, "bokuto! skirt!"

that was all you were able to manage while vigoursly wrestling out of his grasp, but thankfully that was enough to convey the message to bokuto, and he swiftly changed your orientation, so one of his arms was now hooked under your shoulders and the other beneath your knees — carrying you bridal style. he flashed you an awkward smile, and croaked, "my bad!"

"it's fine.." you mutter, subtly adjusting your skirt to protect your modesty.

"ready to go?" he asks, giving your shoulders a slight squeeze for emphasis.

"i guess so."

he nods. even with you in his arms, he is still able to extend his arms forward and pull the door open, and shut it behind him. then, slowly but surely, he begins to make his way down to your car. slowly but surely, one step at a time, making sure every movement is precise and calculated, without any rush.

your heart was beating a hole in your chest. you still couldn't fully process the fact you were being carried like a princess to your car by the dad of the kids you tutor. truthfully, you've always had quite a thing for the older bachelor, and you suspected he had similar feelings towards you, but considering the age difference, you always assumed that your relationship would never exceed mild flirtatious comment and chatter.

yet here you were; tucked safely in his strong arms as he carries you like a precious, weightless artifact down his driveway.

bokuto must've misread the excitment on your face for fear, as he chuckles, "you look so scared, (y/n). think i'm gonna trip or something?" he gazes down at you with his cheerful, honey eyes. when you reciprocate his comment with only a terrified look, he continues, "don't be. i won't let anything bad happen to you." and what made you're heart melt for him is that you could tell he was being sincere; with every slow, laboured movement, and the way his eyes were glued to the path in front him, you could tell he was diligently trying to keep you safe.

you still didn't respond, and the journey wasn't getting any quicker, so he attempts to make casual conversation, "this reminds me of my second wedding."

"second?" you ask in shock, under the impression he had only been married once.

"yeah, second wedding." he muses, recollecting of the events of the night, "she wanted me to carry her down the aisle to the carriage that was going to take us to the hotel, but we got married in the alps on a very snowy day, so that took a while."

"oh." you hum, entertained by his story but discontented that he didn't mention anything about the fact he had been married a second time, "did you book your wedding on a snowy day on purpose?"

"no, but it was fun anyway."

"that's good." you mumble, and since it was your turn to make idle coversation, you ask, "do think you'll have your third wedding while it's snowing too?"

he furrows his brows together in concentration, and recollects, "hm, no. my third wedding was on the beach."

was?! surely you must've misheard him, or maybe he just mispoke. there was no way he had been married three times. you wrack your brain for a way to ask for clairfication without seeming too overt or nosey, eventually staggering out, "so, where will your fourth wedding be?"

he blinks, then responds, "i don't know. but i know it will be my last one, and i'll have the most beautiful bride." his eyes momentarily avert from the icey pavement in front of him, only so he can meet your longing gaze. the moment is fleeting, before he returns to carefully trudging over the ice, but it fills you with an immense warm and comfort. something about resting in bokuto's arms and him looking at you with such a sweet glint in his eye was so wholesome, and it made you want to stay in this exact position forever.

therefore, you were almost disappointed when he finally reached the car, "we're here." he states gleefully, shooting you a playful wink as he says, "told you i'd get you here safe and sound, didn't i?" then, with great care, he slowly lowers your legs to the ground and gently places you down, keep a hold of your waist in case you fall over while finding your balance.

your hand finds it way to his bicep as you stable yourself, and you say, "thank you so much; you really didn't have to do all that for me."

"of course i did. i wasn't going to let you get hurt in my driveway." he shakes his head definitively, "it's not like it was hard, anyway. i might start carrying you into the house as well. would ya like that?"

he teases, and he can tell your answer from the way you tense up in hands.

[tleeaves]

Rule(heart)breaker pt. II

Tokyo Debunker | Ritsu Shinjo x reader/MC Warnings: none Description: ritsu shinjo fails and try, tries again... and again... aaaand again. contains low grade angst and high-grade ridiculousness. slightly yandere vibes if you get real close and cross your eyes. Author's note: as requested, here's a part ii to this short fic idea here. longer than the first part and there's likely to be a part iii when I can get around to it. writing for ritsu kind of started as a joke since I also study law but now I'm kinda attached to this idea ngl. might eventually edit and upload this series to ao3 as a multi-chapter fic, we'll see. - T. Lee 🍃

It was Day Thirty-three of Ritsu Shinjo’s battle to get you back. He stood in his dormitory room, dressed in a matching set of pinstriped grey pyjamas ironed to perfection, and observed the corkboard he had set up on the wall. Notes, pictures, and red string wound around pins mapping out his trials and errors.

Everything began simple enough at first. A phone call the first day to ask you to reconsider your statement. You did not pick up. Nor would you for the next three days, at which point Ritsu considered his next step. He knew your class schedule by heart. So, naturally, he began trying to track you down between classes to make his case in person. By the end of that first week, you had called him nine colourful terms and flipped him off with three of those.

Ritsu Shinjo knew the risks of client abuses when working in the legal field. He knew the troubles of fickle associates and ruthless adversaries. No one prepared him for an unwilling business partner—let alone one that so swiftly appeared to detest him. A selfish and competitively ambitious partner, certainly, but not one he needed to keep who did not want to be kept.

It would be easier, he had reasoned, to merely acquire a more adequate person to work with who was less cranky, less preoccupied, and more enthusiastic. But Ritsu quickly found that to be impractical option. The use of you was that you were Darkwick Inspector. So, not only did he need you to reel in higher-ranked missions for Sinostra for the credit and sign offs, but he also needed an insider on all the other houses. You were, clearly, the prime person to keep close. And now he had gone and upset you—quite accidentally, of course—which placed Sinostra in a precarious position. Because during the second week, on exactly the Tenth Day of battle, you ignored the request to attend to Sinostra.

Ritsu had ensured the proper avenues from Vice-Captain Romeo S. Lucci to Captain Taiga Hoshibami (via a signature the captain was unlikely to remember giving out) to the heads of the houses and the chancellor himself were all followed. He dotted his i's and crossed his t’s, did it all by the book and followed the chain of authority for once. And somehow you had managed to worm your way out of the Sinostra assignment to take on a different one in Frostheim, a place you were much more difficult to reach when the likes of Jin Kamurai practically held you hostage.

It was affecting Sinostra’s progress. Ritsu Shinjo had brought this upon the house himself and now he needed to amend the mistake before Romeo’s wails of developing premature wrinkles over the matter actually manifested.

On Day Eleven, Ritsu managed to catch you on your way back to the cathedral, thankfully before closing business hours. He made his plea and even offered you an elegant fountain pen from his exquisite collection of stationery to gain favour. His father would approve of buttering up people with professional gifts.

You took the pen and promptly seized Ritsu’s hand to write “DICKHEAD” across the back. His fault, perhaps, for this being the one time he had not worn his gloves. He had watched you storm off (you kept the pen, as was your right, unfortunately, since he had already confirmed it was a gift and therefore equitably transferred ownership) swaying on the path, hand still aloft as the dark ink spelling out his crime against your good humour dried.

He tried coffees for the next series of mornings where he caught you on your way to 9 AM classes and mission calls. You were merciful enough not to spill any on him this time. But many likely poisoned the innocent shrubbery lining the academy’s pathways by the time he gave up that endeavour.

He really, really wanted to accuse you of assault, battery, or littering at the very least. Ritsu knew that to get on your good side though, his role now was not just an agent of the law but a savvy business partner. A partner would put their other partner first if it meant saving their business. And Ritsu was in the business of climbing the ladder, so he needed you. The temptation was difficult to fight when you threw the silver watch he bought you at his head.

He knew he should have opted for gold.

Third week in and he truly began to realise you changed. Ritsu listened back on recordings, paced a trench into the carpet of his rooms, and sorted through his appendices of photographic evidence to pinpoint exactly what it was and when it started. To his surmounting horror, the signs began well before you resigned.

When you first arrived at the academy, you were a timid honour student being dragged around by ghouls every which way with nary a peep made about it. The more familiar with the environment you became, however, the more pronounced your backbone grew. Ritsu felt with an odd sense of pride that you might have come into your own as an advocate like him—if you would only refrain from your more unruly tendencies.

On Day Eighteen, he gifted you a monogrammed handkerchief and kept his invoice for his dry-cleaning from the day of your resigning quiet. He could afford it, even if his pride and sense of equity told him you should be paying for the damages. Ritsu had managed to develop a behavioural chart for you, similar to the one he had for Taiga. That was how he knew the likely time to catch you in a more sedate mood, making you more susceptible to his gifts and pleas. Ritsu straightened up, pleased, when you accepted the handkerchief. You had not accepted his business offer, but he counted this as progress.

At least, that was until he found the handkerchief delivered to his rooms in Sinostra, decorated with dark lipstick marks that seemed to taunt him with its unwashed state. By this point, Ritsu could practically hear your voice saying, pay me for the dry-cleaning this time, asshole. Perhaps he should start a prediction chart for your responses to certain circumstances too.

Things were getting dire when you started disappearing for days at a time on more intense missions with other houses. You still had not returned to Sinostra. Romeo was hanging by a thread. Ritsu kept his cool, same as ever. There was no problem he could not solve.

Save for the fact that it became clear you were ignoring him. Calls, texts, summons, and waves on campus when he managed to catch a rare glimpse of you went unanswered. Worse still, you had other ghouls with you constantly now. That did not stop Ritsu from gathering intelligence though. Most students merely raised eyebrows and continued to ignore him when he recorded your conversations from around corners. This might have been considered a breach of privacy and perhaps even inadmissible as evidence in a court, but you were in a public space and he was not in a courtroom.

Day Twenty-nine and Ritsu found himself swallowing down an uncomfortable feeling. He was trying a bouquet of flowers today. That was professional. Many coworkers gifted each other flowers for various occasions. Ritsu figured this was not far outside the realm of associate-like behaviour.

You had just returned from another gruelling mission that landed you in the clinic. Ritsu carefully placed the bouquet at your bedside with a printed note. You refused to even look at him. If this continued for another month, your curse would be halfway in its progression already. Ritsu would never let the opposition see him sweat. But as he left your room, the one of six handkerchiefs he kept on his person was used to dab at his face.

Ritsu Shinjo was supposed to be perfect. He was going to be Japan’s top attorney. He had been training since early childhood for ruling the nation’s upper class with his knowledge of the law and how to reap rewards from their purses. He knew four languages, minimum, entirely fluently. He knew every classic opera, all manner of geography and jurisdictions, the top restaurants, and dressed impeccably. He got accepted into the most prestigious academy after making a deal with a demon.

If he did not leave this educational institution with the highest of accreditation, would all of that be for nothing? What was the point if he was not the best?

He needed the laurel crown for Sinostra with your assistance this year before either your curse turned you into an anomaly or you were freed from this place to return to your previous life. If Sinostra could come into the academy’s high graces again, it would make proceeding years easier for Ritsu to handle maintaining the house’s status on his own to ensure his graduation came from perfect results.

Five months were just about gone already. If something did not change, fast, he would be losing six, with only six more to go. What would happen the closer you came to the change? Would it be a gradual development or something that occurred all at once at the precise one year mark? If the former, would you still retain enough sound mind to work with Ritsu?

Would you become like Sinostra’s captain? Something worse?

And so here he was, Day Thirty-three and standing in front of his strategy board, breaking out into a cold sweat. Ritsu Shinjo was supposed to be unflappable. When it came to you, he was stumped. He had tried everything, from the direct approach, to notes, to gifts, to flowers, and even both a written and verbal apology. Every trick in the book.

What could he possibly be missing?

The door to his rooms burst open. Affronted, Ritsu took a half-step back, hand reaching for his compendium. “Vice-Captain? It is outside working hours and you are trespass—”

“Silence, YRT! You look to be working overtime anyway,” Romeo declared, slamming the door behind him. “This is GOOH, you need to FTI or so help me, I am ending your contract as Sinostra’s attorney!”

Ritsu blinked. “…GOOH? If you would please clarify—”

“GETTING OUT OF HAND, YOU SBA!”

Perhaps it was better not to ask and hinder the progress of the conversation. “I…” I, what? I have it under control? I will find a way? I, Ritsu Shinjo, paralegal, will resolve this in a timely manner? “How do you win someone over? Someone who hates you?”

Romeo’s irritation sputtered out a little, the creases on his porcelain skin smoothing. “Usually bribery.”

“Tried that.”

“Threats?”

“Futile, illegal.”

Romeo cocked his head to the side. “Have you tried locking them up?”

“That,” said Ritsu with a frown, “would constitute false imprisonment, which is also illegal, and is punishable by—”

“Whatever, shut up,” Romeo snapped, waving away the statement. “I thought you Shinjos were supposed to be morally bankrupt.”

Ritsu felt a prickle run up his spine. Holding his vice-captain’s gaze, he murmured, “No comment.”

“This is about that BB honour student, yes? She’s a woman like any other.” Romeo snapped his fingers. “Seduce her.”

“…I— beg your pardon?”

“You heard me! Seduce the honour student. That solves the part where she hates you, where she avoids you, and it will undoubtedly lead her back to Sinostra.” Wrinkling his delicate nose, Romeo added, “Just no risqué displays on the casino floor. I would rather not see that, nor do I wish to drive away the money.”

Ritsu opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened again. And fell shut. A peculiar heat buzzed over his skin. Finally, he said, “There must be another way. I will keep researching.”

Romeo scoffed. “At this rate, she’ll be an anomaly before she so much as looks at you again. If all other methods of enticing her to help us have already failed,” he explained, surprisingly patient, “then you must take more extreme action. People sleep with each other all the time to rise among ranks.”

“N— no one said anything about—”

“Shut up! Don’t you get it, you DTH? If you seduce her, she will become obsessed with you, will do whatever you say, and we can use her for Sinostra’s gain. It’s EAP.”

Ritsu wandered over to his desk chair and sat with the weight of his thoughts. What more did he have to lose if he tried this new strategy? You would reject his initial advances, undoubtedly, but perhaps if he investigated the best courting techniques and combined it with Romeo’s suggestion, it might be possible to soften you with something more personal than business. He supposed he had already tried everything else. It was nigh unreasonable how stubborn you were being. Yet…

“All right. I’ll do it.” Ritsu turned to his binder and his laptop to begin his research. “I will develop a plan and swiftly execute it within the next month. That should give Sinostra enough time to regain standing once I… have reacquired the inspector.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Romeo asked, dubious.

“Courting and seduction are thousands of years old arts, and I am something of a connoisseur of arts, naturally. I, Ritsu Shinjo, must move up my plan for a romantic partner. I knew this day would come eventually. It goes without saying that this need not be permanent, since I have different criterion—”

“Whatever, BSB,” interrupted Romeo. “Just get it done or you can forget about the contract.” The door slammed shut once again.

Ritsu glanced at his corkboard and then removed the sheet he had been writing on from his binder and pinned it up next to a picture of you.

The Girlfriend Strategy.

[rollercoasterwords]

like sorry but if ur actually seeing an increase in students using chatgpt 2 write essays 4 ur class why is ur first thought "oh they're being lazy" & not "have i structured this class in a way that makes this student feel the need to rely on chatgpt?" especially bc the majority of college students are overwhelmed taking multiple classes working part-time jobs caring for family dealing with health issues etc etc like there are soooo many reasons a student might decide to use chatgpt that are not just "laziness"!! consider:

the student didn't have time to complete the assignment without chatgpt -> have you created an environment where students can ask for extensions without judgment? do you only give out extensions for "emergencies" or "valid reasons" (<- subjective measure)? if so, why? what purpose do these strict deadlines serve? [think about how this overlaps with students who may have "had time" but were overwhelmed for other reasons; what kind of environment have you created for these students, and does it best serve their learning?]

the student didn't feel they had the ability to write an essay of good enough quality to receive a good grade without chatgpt -> how are you grading students' work? what grading scales have you utilized that made this person feel as though they're incapable of succeeding? do those grading scales prevent them from succeeding? if so, why? what educational resources did they or did they not have access to before entering your class? how might that change considerations about how you grade? [think about how this overlaps with students completing coursework that is not in their first language and whether your grading standards are truly equitable for these students]

the student didn't feel that they could understand the material and therefore couldn't complete the assignment -> again, have you created an environment where this student can come to you for help? how are you presenting and explaining material? what opportunities have you provided for students to seek out additional resources and support with understanding? is this assignment and its correlated grading scale designed to accommodate a variety of skill levels, or is it designed with "the best student" in mind?

the student actually just doesn't care about this class and doesn't want to do the work -> why don't they care about this class? what other classes or work are they prioritizing, and why? to what extent are you willing to accommodate students who simply will never view your class as a priority, but need to complete it to earn a degree--and how is that need tied structurally to a university that serves primarily as a class barrier? what role do you play in that university structure, and is it a role you want to play?

at the end of the day if your goal is 2 prioritize student learning that means being flexible & adapting your grading scales, assignment structures, class policies, etc. to accommodate students at their level of learning for their own purposes. like if the choice is between having a student get a zero on an assignment for "cheating" versus working with that student to create an alternative assignment which they can complete & which engages them with the course material on a level they can manage then to me it seems like a pretty clear choice between "no learning" and "some learning."

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Meghan is no feminist.

I’m also irked that they focus so much on boys just listening because in the society we live in, we need boys to do more than just listen or sit back, we need them to be speak up about injustice, inequality etc.

It is not enough for just girls to be speaking up. Also society is also very intersecting now and I’ve noticed how exclusionary she is towards LGBTQIA+ in society - her feminism doesn’t include them.

Men and women, boys and girls - whether cis, trans, gay or lesbian - all need to work together to make our society truly equitable and inclusive.

Meghan doesn’t understand feminism at all.

Whoever we are, we have a choice. We have a choice to be a mother or not, to adopt or use a surrogate, to work or be a homemaker, to have one child or half a dozen kids… feminism means we don’t diss or degrade women for choosing the opposite to what we do or have.

Boys and girls need to learn the same and act the same, otherwise we won’t get any better.

Also how she seems to be raising Lili or talking about her, is that Lili is going to be a Grade A Narcissist and wild child out of control…

The only person who calls Meghan a feminist is Meghan.

[goldrushenthusiast]

The Hunger Games characters have some unique names based on many cultures we've lived in today.

What's your favourite character names from THG world? What's their names meaning?

Bonus questions :

If you're a fanfic writer writing about characters who lives in Panem, what's their name gonna be?

If you're a reader, what's a name you read in a THG fanfic that stuck with you?

Thank you, @curiousnonny

Got to be Sejanus. By far who his name is based off of and who is is just…perfect.

Copied straight from the Wikipedia page, the very first paragraph;

“Lucius Aelius Sejanus (c. 20 BC – 18 October AD 31), commonly known as Sejanus (/sɪˈdʒeɪnəs/),[1] was a Roman soldier, friend, and confidant of the Roman Emperor Tiberius. Of the Equites class by birth, Sejanus rose to power as prefect of the Praetorian Guard (the Roman imperial bodyguard), of which he was commander from AD 14 until his execution for treason in AD 31.”

Like ok come on now Suzanne at least make me have something more to interpret!!

What’s interesting about him though is the fact that he is district born, and as we see in Katniss, Gale, Primrose, Madge, Mayfair, Carine (Katniss’ mom), Rue, Delly, and any non career district, district kids typically have fairly normal names or names related to their districts (Reaper the farming name from D11, Coral & Mizzen, sea & ship names from d4). While their names still have something to do with their character, they make more sense with district kids and are less obvious (will explain later).

However, with Sejanus, he was born in district two. His parents were from district two. Strabo even can be related to Strabo’s character but that’s for later.

Sure, it can be argued that district two is a career district, but Katniss & Coriolanus’ accounts together hint that this process took decades to be sure of and to really benefit from. District two would be a bit better off after the first revolution, but not much.

I just find it funny it’s so clear with Sejanus what he was always meant to be.

Strabo’s name is a bit more a stretch, but Strabo was an Ancient Greek geographer. He was mostly known for being, and I quote;

“historian whose Geography is the only extant work covering the whole range of peoples and countries known to both Greeks and Romans during the reign of Augustus (27 BCE–14 CE)”

He specialized in geography. District two is full of mountains (that Ma loves), and he literally moved his whole family. As I said, a bit of a stretch, but still there’s SOMETHING there.

Even the family’s last name, Plinth, means a heavy base supporting a statue or vase. Every part of Sejanus’ name includes some type of support, and it’s so apparent with just one google search. I love it, and we know so much about his character so it’s easier to make these inferences than it will be with the Ring Twins or Remus Dolittle, yet I will. This answer might have to be two parts lol.

Now onto other characters that we know just a bit better: Tigris, Persephone, Iphigenia, Vipsania, Arachne, and saving last for last, Coriolanus.

Firstly; Tigris! Tigris was the easternmost river out of two that defined Mesopotamia, one of (or maybe the) the earliest civilizations/cultures, dating back to 14,000 BC as the time period when people originally started settling. Because I’m not here to give a history lesson I’m not gonna explain the importance of a river to a civilization, but I went through 6th grade geography and suffice to say she was important as hell.

Tigris was believed to have been created by the God Enki, the Sumerian god of knowledge, crafts, and creation among other things. Tigris is continually proven to be resourceful, creative, and gives very much DIY girlie vibes, which sound a lot like Enki.

As I said before, the Mesopotamian region was one of the first civilizations. Many have theorized that mankind as we know it wouldn’t exist without Mesopotamia, and what would Mesopotamia not exist without? Tigris.

Tigris provided opportunities for the Mesopotamian region (Coriolanus) to grow, get stronger, become innovative, and provided for them. If that doesn’t scream Tigris I don’t know what does.

Now, Persephone! My favorite capital names are the ones from Greek mythology (I am a Percy Jackson fan page) or ancient mythology, because it’s less work to find connecting factors. Honestly I had no clue who Sejanus was, I just googled his name, and my mom is a Shakespeare fan which is how I know Coriolanus.

Anywho, for y’all who are normal, Persephone was the daughter of the farming/harvest goddess who was kidnapped by the death god. All versions of this myth agree on that. Some say that it was part of a deal with Zeus that Hades (the death god) knew about, but Demeter (farming/harvest goddess) didn’t. Of course these are definitely a very simple and quick way to describe Hades & Demeter, but it gets my point across.

The funny thing is, we don’t know much about Persephone in canon. I don’t know if Suzanne did this on purpose like she clearly did with Sejanus, but I find it interesting that whenever Persephone Price is brought up, so is cannibalism.

See, Nero Price, Persephone dad and Coriolanus was the main example that Coriolanus used to show how bad things were during the war. Coriolanus and Tigris saw him one snowy evening sawing off the leg of a maid with a large knife, wrapping it in the skirt from her waist, and going on his way. It makes Coriolanus question if he could ever be seen as edible, which is kinda funny to me lowkey, but the whole scene is on page 31-32.

Persephone. She is literally torn between the harvest (farmers food & stuff) and the underworld, the realm of the dead. Part of her myth is she stays there for 3 months and in the realm of the living for the other 9 because she ATE 3,pomegranate seeds. She ate something she wasn’t supposed to. Let me also mention, in different versions of the myth she wanted to leave or didn’t. When Festus and Persephone are getting close, Coriolanus questions if Persephone ever knew what was on her plate.

Now Iphigenia!! If y’all didn’t remember Persephone, I doubt yall will remember Iphigenia, as I only did combing the list of names Coriolanus had for interesting ones and finding her. She’s a very minor character- we don’t know much about her hobbies or likes and dislikes or her personality. But I’ll get to TBOSAS Iphigenia in a second.

I’m sure of y’all at least know the Trojan war. If anyone studied it specifically, you probably know Agamemnon. Here’s the paragraph explaining the story from Wikipedia;

“In the story, Agamemnon offends the goddess Artemis on his way to the Trojan War by hunting and killing one of Artemis' sacred stags. She retaliates by preventing the Greek troops from reaching Troy unless Agamemnon kills his eldest daughter, Iphigenia, at Aulis as a human sacrifice. In some versions, Iphigenia dies at Aulis, and in others, Artemis rescues her.”

You’re probably wondering, “wow, what could such a minor character have to do with that tale?”

When I say we get very little from her, I mean it. I don’t mean we get very little from her in the same way as I do when talking about Festus, or any other classmates. We know she doesn’t know if district 5 girl’s (her tribute’s) name is Sol or Sal (it’s Sol).

There’s one piece of information on her that stands out though. I’m going to paraphrase Coriolanus on page 252 when I say this- “her father oversaw food stuff in Panem, but she always looked almost malnourished. Clemensia had once said it was the only revenge she could take on her father but didn’t give any other details,”

boy oh boy. Because of this one, small little paragraph, Iphigenia has always interested me. When Clemensia doesn’t give any other details, she means it. NO details appear afterwards and Iphigenia is maybe mentioned once ever again. Trust me, I know. Every time I reread TBOSAS I look for different things, which is part of the reason I reread it sm.

We never know why Iphigenia takes revenge. We never know anything about her relationship with her father. There are so many possibilities (abuse, Iphigenia the rebel, etc), and considering her namesake’s issues with her father it’s just crazy the amount of detail Suzanne put into such a minor character.

Next, Vipsania- there’s actually not much I can say about her, I just thought it was a funny coincidence this is what came up when I googled her;

“Vipsania Agrippina (/ˌæɡrəˈpaɪnə, -ˈpiː-/; 36 BC – 20 AD) was the first wife of the Emperor Tiberius.”

Two things- first, recognize what emperor she married? Yep! Tiberius- aka the emperor Sejanus was a friend and confident of. I think Suzanne might’ve gone down a Tiberius rabbit hole, because her last is familiar as well- Professor Agrippina. She was the gym teacher, and Sejanus’ mentor. This little circle of names and relations is just funny to me is all, although there’s not much on VA in history or much to say about Vipsania.

Arachne!!! Gosh I love her. Well, I love how plain the connection is between her character in TBOSAS and her character in mythology. Really she’s pretty disrespectful and a jerk in both lol.

In Greek mythology, Arachne is a woman-turned spider, the first spider. Arachne believed she could win a weaving competition against Athena, goddess of crafts, because of how beautiful her work was and how much everyone complimented her.

Athena, hearing this hubris, disguised herself as an old woman and told Arachne not to boast like that. Arachne then challenged Athena, and told the old woman the only reason Athena hadn’t gone against her herself was she was too scared.

Of course Athena then revealed herself, and they battled. Athena’s weaver thing showed the Greek gods doing good stuff, Arachne’s showed the gods in their most unfavorable aspects. Due to this disrespect, and in some versions because it was better (tho I personally don’t believe that), Athena turned Arachne into a spider so she could weave forever.

The pride?? The taunting until it becomes serious?? The permanent change?? The rage that prompted the act?? Arachne as Arachne is the most perfect name on here, because who else would she be?? Another great one of Suzanne’s names. Genius.

Before we get to the last name, Coriolanus himself, let me point out I have no district people on here. Let this show just how interesting Strabo & Sejanus’ names are.

Finally!! The last one!! Coriolanus.

Coriolanus is actually quite disappointing compared to Sejanus or Arachne, but there’s still something here so I’m going to paste the Wikipedia on Coriolanus, the man Shakespeare based his play after & what happened in the play.

“Coriolanus is the name given to a Roman general after his military feats against the Volscians at Corioli. Following his success he seeks to be consul, but his disdain for the plebeians and the mutual hostility of the tribunes lead to his banishment from Rome. In exile, he presents himself to the Volscians, then leads them against Rome. After he relents and agrees to a peace with Rome, he is killed by his previous Volscian allies”

Now, unlike many of these other characters, Coriolanus’ relationship to his namesake mirrors his relationship to another character (Lucy Gray) more than his personality.

Coriolanus wants to be with Lucy Gray, but eventually due to his hatred of the districts and love of the capital, he ends up turning against her. He starts out wanting to help her, yet his own disgust only ends up hurting him.

Coriolanus is eventually killed by his former allies, what he’s created. That’s what happens in the original hunger games series. When Coin does the faked bomb drop, everyone he worked so hard to make love him turn against him quickly. He revolutionized the capital and they turned against him.

He almost changed his own feelings about district people and it ended up almost taking his life and career.

Help I forgot there was another part to the question 😭. Anywho if I was gonna write some, I’d probably just use random names or if I had a really good and accurate name (or totally opposite name) from mythology or a poem or something I’d use that and make it correspond to the character.

This is embarrassing, but a lot of the names from crimson rivers, a hunger games/marauders au stuck with me! Nothing specific, but anything that wasn’t a marauders character always made me go “huh! I like that!”

In conclusion though, Suzanne is a genius. As I said, I might have to reblog this later with more names if I ever think of any. This is probably my most researched answer, due to all the mythology and Wikipedia searches I had to do, so sorry that it took longer! Usually I just remember things and explain them lol.

Thank you for the question @curiousnonny, and as always, feel free to debate in the comments/reblogs but please don’t argue. I always enjoy answering and dissecting questions, so anyone feel free to ask!

[elekdragon]

I had a job candidate ask if there was anything they could do to improve their application at the end of an interview. One major thing anyone can do when applying for an academic librarian position is to address how you meet every single qualification listed in the job ad.

We have to use rubrics of different kinds to rate candidates, and the more equitable-focused searches try to remove as much possible bias from the search by focusing on data and facts.

You go through and lay out for us that you meet all qualifications, even if you just state "I am [a fast learner/adept with Word/experienced with assessment and pedagogy/a person who loves event planning]" without examples, you will rate higher than someone who doesn't explicitly state that. Give an example, and you rate even higher.

If we have to infer things from your cv and cover letter, then you will rate lower. We are doing less interpreting and more "Does it explicitly state x?" these days, so being blunt is good. We have to justify every decision and every "grade" so we're less likely to interprete things.

You were a server in a restaurant for 6 months? You are adept at handling multiple conflicting priorities in a fast-paced, user-centered environment! You can do more with less! You can answer random questions with a smile! You've dealt with difficult patrons and ended every interaction positively! You know when to refer an issue up the chain of command! There are soooooooo many ways you can connect a non-library job to library work! Please do so!!

So my best advice is go through the job ad, state in your cover letter how you meet every required and preferred quality even the slightest. We want to hire you! We really do! Make it easy on us!

My qualifications: 20 years of academic library search committee experience.

[theculturedmarxist]

The Chinese healthcare system has a long way to go before it can adequately satisfy the needs of the country's huge population. However, I take great pride in the high quality of China's healthcare at such low costs for the average Chinese person.

Yesterday, a little winged insect flew into my right eye, leaving a red spot on my eyeball. I opened my medical app at 12 a.m., scheduled an appointment at 2 p.m., waited for half an hour, and had a medical examination. Most of the bill was paid for by my national health insurance.

I also tried making an appointment with a neurosurgeon through the Peking University People's Hospital mobile app. When I checked the app at 21:44, I saw that the earliest available appointment with a chief physician (professor) would be 16 hours later and would cost 300 RMB ($41, most of which would be reimbursed by my medical care). [Picture 1]

The earliest appointment I can get with an attending physician is a day later, and it will cost me 50 RMB ($6.8). With my healthcare, I only pay 10 RMB ($1.4). [Picture 2]

For people in immediate need, the system is incredibly affordable and effective (I don't want to have a red eye for days).

Here are some statistics on China's healthcare system.

🏥 When the PRC was founded in 1949, the average life expectancy in China was 35 years; in 2022, it was 77.93 years, mostly due to the country's improving medical care system.

🏥 Its basic medical insurance covers approximately 1.3 billion people.

🏥 China has a three-tier system to grade hospitals, with tertiary hospitals -- which have the largest number of beds and provide comprehensive medical services -- at the top of the system.

🏥 Basic public health services provided at the primary level have been bolstered. In the first half of 2023, nearly 90 million people aged 65 and above enjoyed health management through such services, increasing by 40 percent compared with the same period last year.

🏥 Health authorities and medical institutions have made proactive efforts to ensure the accessibility and equitability of health services. Currently, 82.7 percent of all medical institutions at or above the secondary level in the country have established a system that enables patients to schedule appointments for diagnosis and treatment.

🏥 Internet-powered health services are playing an increasingly important role in China's health system. By 2020, over 1,600 internet hospitals were opened in China, and almost 49 million people had used the service to receive a diagnosis and treatment.

🏥 By the end of 2021, the number of doctors in China had reached 4.2 million, and the number of doctors per 1,000 people had reached 3.04, close to the level of developed countries.

🏥 The Chinese government announced in 2022 a strategy to increase the number of health professionals as part of the country's 14th Five-Year Plan. It aims to increase the number of physicians to 3.2 per 1,000 people by 2025.

🏥 From January to September, medical institutions in China saw a total of 5.11 billion medical visits.

[burnwater13]

Grogu looks out the of a doorway in Mos Espa, after Din Djarin goes to fight the Scorpenek Annihilator droid. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 7, In the Name of Honor. Calendar by DateWorks.

Look who’s coming to dinner…

Grogu was very curious about the conversation the two men were having. It wasn’t because he didn’t understand what they were talking about. It was because he wasn’t invited to listen in, dank farrik.

As soon as Din Djarin saw who was visiting them, he took Han Solo by the arm and led him out of the cabin and right over to the small scout ship the other man had used to reach Nevarro. Two men entered and one Grogu was left on the landing field staring at a closed bulkhead. 

To say that Grogu was surprised by this was not actually accurate. His dad had been having plenty of meetings with various and sundry people about things that certain members of the old Rebel Alliance found of interest. It was the one thing they all had in common. They had all had some sort of connection to the Rebels who had toppled the Imperium, but currently had no leadership role with the New Republic. His dad said he preferred it that way. One less master to serve.

Grogu asked why he couldn’t be there for the discussions and was routinely told that it was ‘above his pay grade’. Sure, he didn’t really know what a ‘pay grade’ was, but he didn’t think anything was above him, unless you were talking about height. Then everything other than pebbles, scurriers  and Anzellans were above him. He’d been super helpful to his dad and the other people who were visiting on the many adventures they’d endured together. 

Well, maybe ‘endured’ was the problem. So many of those adventures had been about keeping Grogu out of the hands of former Imperial operatives, it did make him feel more than a little bit guilty that they had done so much for him. He wasn’t that special, no matter what Moff Gideon said. He suspected that Moff Gideon had hoped that his blood would let the clones wield the Force, but you didn’t need that to access the Force. It connected every thing. If you were part everything, you could use the Force, if you knew how. Grogu was still convinced that using his blood in a cloning process would only result in the creation of a bunch of tiny Grogus.

Was that it? Had Gideon hoped that a bunch of Grogu clones couldn’t help but show them how the Force worked? With a bunch of Gro-clones trotting around you could apply scientific method to the problem and establish operating principles, theories to test, perform the tests, and refine you theories based on the outcome of the testing. 

Of course that would take time. Time he presumed that Gideon didn’t have, so he had tried to accelerate the whole process by making wild guesses.  But you didn’t have to be Master Yoda to know that wasn’t going to work and that the odds of success were not to be liked. You just had to know some math and understand some basic science and then apply that to your problem set and… 

Uff, who was Grogu kidding? 

Lots of people had followed the dictates of the Emperor, not because they agreed with him, but because they didn’t understand why they shouldn’t agree with him. The same was true for the people who had worked with Moff Gideon. He had promised them something far more tangible than the benefits of a free and equitable civil society. He had promised them whatever they wanted. The fact that he had no intention of fulfilling any of those promises was beside the point. A promise in the hand was better than being sent to Narkina-5 on the next shuttle. You didn’t need math or science to understand that.

Which is what baffled Grogu even more about the people who were meeting with his dad. What did they hope to get from sharing information with a lone Mandalorian? They didn’t have some sort of Rebel fleet supported by a bunch of folks who cared more about a free, just, and civil society than the immense wealth they had accumulated over a lifetime of hard work or had simply inherited as was often the case. Those people could have done nothing and been fine, as other people measured it. A lot of people had done that. Nothing.

Of course, one Mandalorian and one Jedi and their rag tag band of friends had discovered that Mandalore was still habitable, that ex-Imps were operating out of hidden bases all over the galaxy, including Mandalore, and had successfully ended or at least delayed one former Imperial Warlord in his quest to rule the galaxy. Grogu didn’t like to brag, but he’d been pretty integral to doing all that. 

So why hadn’t his dad included him in all of these discussions? It wasn’t fair!

“Hey, kid. Thanks for loaning yer dad to me today. Being a dad isn’t easy and I needed some advice. He’s pretty good at that. You are one lucky kid. I hope you know that. I’ll tell Luke you say ‘hello’.”

Han Solo leaned over, patted his head, and then went back to his ship, while the Mandalorian just waited next to Grogu. 

“Grogu, sometimes a visit is just a visit. Skywalker asked Solo to stop by and check on how you were doin’. Your Jedi pal is worried about you. I tried to reassure him that you’re fine and your friends and I are keeping a good eye on you. He told me that Luke worries about everything, even when he sleeps. As dads, we both understand that. Okay?”

Grogu nodded his head and reached out with his arms. If that was the story Din Djarin was going with, Grogu wanted a hug as payment. It was mostly true, but not completely true and he was going to be keeping a sharper eye on everyone now. Especially Luke.

“Come on, I’ve got some gorgs for your dinner.” 

His dad picked him up and they went into the cabin. Gorgs were good. When people put on a show you should at least get dinner.

[allmylove-minh]

musings on compassion

To know an individual, ask them how they developed compassion. When did you start to be aware of hardships and your ability to help? I have heard answers that range from thought-provoking to horrifying. In seventh grade, my math teacher revealed that he had been a high school bully. His youth was peppered with bruising fights and sharp racial slurs. It took being roommates with a Black student in college for him to recognize the impact of his actions. It shocked me that someone so intelligent regarding math could be so dense. If only what I thought was true. Academic achievement does not always correlate with capacity for kindness. One can have a doctorate in math, yet lack their theory of mind.

 Theory of Mind is the idea that people develop empathy and an understanding of other people's views and struggles at a certain stage of brain development, typically as children.. Of course, everyone develops at a different age. But, I have always felt that children of color are expected to develop theory of mind at a younger age. We are expected to be grateful for American progress. Every Martin Luther King Day, we are reminded of the need for nonviolent cooperation. Never are we taught to advocate against cruelty, to do what it takes to have an equitable society. No school lesson taught me that MLK had a 4% popularity rate when he got executed. To be a student in America is to read about the March on Washington, yet hear protesters get insulted for asserting their right to live without police brutality. We learn lessons of compassion. But the overarching message is compliance. If every student was taught self advocacy and empathy, society would be a fairer place. Instead, the scales of justice lean towards acquitting the privileged.

Survivors of their treatment must grit their teeth and walk it out. It kills my sister and I to be understanding when our peers are cruel or spiteful, but being upset only earns us reminders of how bad things used to be. Of course we have to understand. People fear those who are different. We were both children. But one of us had to forgive, and the other got to forget. Many youth of color encounter people that seemingly lack theory of mind when it comes to us. People are not born cruel. Unfortunately, other children are not born understanding the causes and consequences of discrimination.

My sister and I developed compassion at a young age. In Oklahoma, students like us had it thrust upon us. Every teacher I complained to called me dramatic. Their precious favorite would never hurt a fly. Maybe I was not hit with a flyswatter. However, I was constantly encountering traps that reminded me of how little compassion people had. Students at my high school refused to sit near me because they thought I would give them Covid, as if my very presence was a harbinger of doom. None of them said it to my face, but whispers of “China virus” trailed in my wake. The rumors were about as avoidable as my own shadow. Likewise, other Asian students were used for target practice. I remember my best friend and I getting hit with a barrage of pencils as we were chased down the hallway. Passers-by saw and heard. No one made a move to help us.

The one thing I am grateful for is that it gave me the ability to find my people. I was able to understand who was safe and who was not. When I was in class I gravitated towards people who I felt would understand the same ostracization. Even though my friends who are Black or Hispanic may not have my exact struggles, they know what it is to be mocked for the way they were born. I've heard horror stories from friends who were body shamed for having a certain physique that people associated with being more adult, even though they were still children. I think many other children of immigrants can sympathize with the feeling of being treated with suspicion. No matter how long it has been on American soil, no one acknowledges the roots we’ve sprouted. Instead we are seen as foreign, other, alien. I hope that children in the future do not have to carry compassion and understand that white kids are still learning how not to be cruel. Instead, I hope that society develops understanding and respect towards people who have historically faced oppression. I want to have children, but I feel dread at the possibility of having to explain racism. I feel sad at the fact that my culture has beauty standards and oftentimes society has beauty standards that I'm going to have to talk to my kids about. My mom tells me that it's because of my compassion that I worry about these things. but that just makes me wonder how people live their lives without feeling these things. Why did my math teacher need to be college roommates with a black person to understand why calling them slurs was wrong?

 Part of me has always felt that my white friends can't really feel as much compassion towards me because there's a chance they were those bullies in high school. In sophomore year, one of the people I considered a best friend told me that she didn't want to date a person of color because she was afraid that their culture would be too weird and different for her. If my life was a book, that would have been foreshadowing. At one point, she defended her boyfriend’s disparaging descriptions of Chinatown. He called it filthy, boring, and full of Asians. The last part was said in the same tone one would describe cockroaches.

Eventually, I broke off our friendship. She did not respect me as a friend. Our conversations centered around her. What Albanian dance was like, who she had feelings for, her strict parents. My interests were boring at best, and disgusting at worst. Comparing my beloved cultural dessert to vomit was the last straw. But I was called dramatic. Our mutual friends thought what she did was wrong. Yet they remained friends with her. I think they are compassionate. They’re aware of social issues and privilege. Somehow, racism was not a deal breaker. Compassionate is a fickle feeling. We feel stronger compassion based on our existing biases. Sometimes I wonder if the injustice we tolerate hints at our numbed senses of compassion. We spend our childhoods seeing our peers grow cruel, learning harassment and stereotypes. How do I stay hopeful when I know what it is to be hunted?

[vomitdodger]

A Portland, Oregon, school district recently issued new “equitable grading” practices that will require teachers to accept late work without penalty and refrain from giving students zeros, even if they are caught cheating, according to documents obtained by the Washington Free Beacon.

A new district handout titled “Portland Public Schools Equitable Grading Practices Summary” highlights the district’s “rationale” for implementing a so-called “equitable” approach to grading students’ class performance.

“Historical data shows that there are racial disparities in our pass/fail rate in multiple subjects in both middle grades and high school,” the district’s handout stated. “During the pandemic we adjusted our grading to accommodate for some of the inequities in access to curriculum and instruction. This caused many teachers to begin the journey towards equitable grading but has led to a mosaic of grading practices across schools and across the district that is confusing to students and families. We need to organize and consolidate our efforts towards common policies to more consistently and better support students and families with equitable grading.”

[madmarchhare]

The Monk and the Traveller Ch.2

Cherry spent about two hours with the man, getting a dinner of fried fox wrapped in various herbs along with some pheasant he had cooked the night before, leaving the pheasant he had caught today to prepare later. Alcohol flowed freely, much to the monk’s taciturn delight, Collier pouring him large servings of Sake[1] into a pair of ornate jet sake dishes he had. ‘It would be wrong to serve them in something else!’ he had remarked, just before gulping down the clear drink. By the end of the supper the smaller man was thoroughly drunk, both on good food and good drink, completely red in the face and quite out of it.

Collier made conversation all the while, asking questions about the man while discussing himself, but Cherry was only in a state to offer monosyllabic replies or nods. The Englishman noticed, but was not too bothered by it, enjoying the company nonetheless as he spoke increasingly to himself. In the end Cherry was struggling to hold himself awake, beginning to nod off into the drink in his hand. Collier grabbed him under the arm and pulled him to his room, the monk wearing a Cheshire cat smile all the way. His room was lavish for the hotel, simplistic yet finely decorated where it could be. Collier pulled the man to his room and laid him on his bed, leaving his hat hung on his staff and the latter leaned against the wall outside the room, along with his sandals.

He left through the door, leaving the key inside near it, hearing Cherry’s drunken mumblings as he left. He walked back down the hall to his room, nodding to the daughter of the inn as they passed each other, which she returned curtly as she carried a number of towels. He returned to his room, locking the door behind himself then changed into a pair of striped pyjamas, removing his money from the jacket before folding it away. He went to bed, laying his watch near his head after unlatching it from his wrist, then laying down on the futon[2].

Collier woke up early, as he often did, getting up and stretching before walking off to wash his face and brush his teeth. After that, he changed into the trousers he had worn yesterday, with a fresh shirt rolling up the sleeves as he grabbed his guns to clean them.

The rifle was an equitize piece, a Lee Speed sporting with high grade wood, polished a deep colour. A metal butt plate on its rear, with a sling loop on the underside of the stock, a few inches up of a metal oval in the stock. The semi-pistol grip was beautifully chequered, a horn grip cap just below it, the trigger and magazine just ahead of it. Both featured light engravings, a deep one on the underside of the trigger guard. The foregrip was just a deeply chequered as the grip, capped with deep black horn as well. The action was blued deeply, with a round bolt head, a dust cover over the top of the action, the magazine cut-off just below it. The Lee action locked into a beautifully blued long barrel, a chequered rib all along the top, bar for the inscription of ‘Army & Navy Cooperative Ltd[3] London For cordite only’. A set of three flip up leaf sight near the action, platinum lines up their centres, along with a ladder sight up to a thousand yards, left for the ambitions. The end of the barrel featured a raised dot sight, adjustable with a set screw on one side, the muzzle showing the grooves of Enfield-style rifling as a swing loop was affixed under the far end of the barrel.

He disassembled and cleaned the rifle, being somewhat liberal on the use of oil as he cleaned out the cordite residue in the rifling, giving all the metal and wood a quick polish as he put it back together, working the action as he finished, then holding the trigger as it closed it back so it wouldn’t re-cock the striker. His revolvers were in better concern, not having been used as much. The first, and smaller of the two was Merwin & Hulbert Third Model frontier. An army style revolver, meaning it was chambered in the US army’s standard of .44 calibre, specifically in .44-40 or Winchester 1873 as it was marked on the gun. It featured a flared, bell-shaped grip made of ivory, a seven inch barrel, and was nickel plated. It was well engraved, seeing woven patterns of reeds and roaming Saharan fauna. He had bought it when he had travelled to America, enjoying the speed and strength of the gun, especially as this was a double action model.

His other one, a deep blued piece, was a Webley Target with Bakelite grips and seven and a half inch barrel. Both the rear-sight on the latch and the front sight were adjustable, the grip being flared at the base and the trigger serrated. It was Chambered in .477 Eley, also called Enfield, it was a black powder cartridge which Collier used as a stopping revolver, for tigers, bears and the like. Though unfortunately it would not go much larger in it’s targets.

He finished cleaning the trio of weapons he had got out, placing them away as he went to wash his hands and finish getting dressed. Before he left he went past Cherry’s room, pressing his ear to the door, checking for signs that the monk was still alive. He heard the man toss slightly within the room, so drew back, assured that he had not helped the man drink himself to death. He pulled on his coat and the rest of his equipment, a small rucksack on his back, along with a burlap wrapped canteen. An ammunition pouch strapped under the rucksack, along with an expense pouch on his right hip, near a metal brace for carrying game, both revolvers holster at his waist on the left.

He grabbed the left-over bits of fox meat, wrapped in wax-paper, to use as bait, placing them with the other select chunks he had with him already in his bag. He affixed a hunting knife to his belt, an ivory handled Damascus blade, then pulled his rifle over his shoulder. He left his room, locking it behind him as he walked, holding his boots by the mouth pinched between his finger and thumb. The sun had barely risen as he left his room, nodding to Surogasu as they passed each other the owner smiling warmly at his guest, though still wearing a tired look on his face. Collier walked to the entrance, stopping to don his boots, then left. Morning was dark outside, the sun not having yet raised its face. He checked his watch using what remained of the light from the inn, and saw it was twenty-eight minutes to five o’clock. He smiled to himself then set off into the dark, accompanied by the early morning songs of birds and the chatter of insects.

He arrived in the woods shortly after, adjusting his equipment, making sure nothing could rattle before loading his rifle, loading each round of .303 individually into the box magazine. He loaded both revolvers as well, opening the loading gate on the right side of the Merwin’s cylinder before sliding into its holster and retrieving the Webley. He broke it open, dropping the large bullets into the cylinder one by one before snapping it shut and holstering it as well. He stepped carefully through the woods, lifting his legs high to not become entangled in the groundcover underfoot. Conifer trees stretched high around him, draining out what little light the morning had granted him as he continued forward. He checked his watch, the radium on the hands lightly illuminating the face, allowing him to see that it had just turned quarter past five. He grabbed some bait from his rucksack, a section of breasted pheasant and set it up in a small parting in the ground cover. He moved downwind of the meat, watching closely as he moved away from it. When he was far enough away he chambered a round in his rifle, flipping up the leaf sight for the right range as he crouched down in the bracken, concealing himself within it. He waited patiently, watching around the spot as he listened to the quiet, moving occasionally to try and stay into the wind so that his scent would not blow over the bait.

After a while, just as the twinkling sparks of daylight began to burn, Collier saw movement ahead of him, just by a small mess of holly near the bait. A fox swept out of the cover, glancing around the space as it seemed to be heading home, but had noticed the food ahead of it. It moved to it, cautious on instinct, the mess of chicken blood already present on its chest as it considered the additional meal. Finally it darted close to it and snatched it up in its mouth. Before it could dash off, its legs already shifting, Collier fired, the sights lined up squarely on the creatures red face. The bullet boomed as it left the barrel, wreathed in a great boa of fire and burning cordite as it whipped past the plants surrounding the muzzle to pierce cleanly through the fox’s head. The creature didn’t notice, flopping to the ground from the residual inertia. The shot echoed off the thin trunks of the trees, bouncing up and down the uneven ground of the forest. Birds flew off in distress at the noise, though a number remained unabashed in their sleep.

Collier lifted and pulled back the bolt, catching the brass and dumping it into a pocket. He closed the bolt, chambering a round, then flipped on the safety before striding over to the fox. It was still twitching slightly, the last shocks of nerves displaying a fruitless imitation of life. He affixed the body to the brace had had at his hip, shifting it around so he could reach his expense pouch for cartridges. He left what remained of the bait on the ground, for the scavengers he thought. He made his way forward, an idle crow calling after him, almost in thanks for the meal he had left it. He made the same attempt two more times, the first succeeding, though the shot pierced its neck. The last attempt was fruitless, the day already having broke, seeing then end of any excursion for a fox.

He heard and saw a number of squirrels busing themselves across the tree branches, flashes of red and grey backlit against the innumerous greens and browns of the conifers. He let them alone, deciding to come back with a shotgun another time. Even his revolvers were likely too powerful for the small creatures. He continued on, finding a small outcropping of stone that he laid himself on, the wind dying down as he did. He stared out over the forest ahead of him, holding his rifle loosely in his hands. He had seen the signs of it a while earlier, small pits called ‘scrapes’ dung into the ground by the thing which stunk of the musky urine they used to mark them. He was in its territory, so he expected it to come, either soon or later.

He had spent the latter half of the day before stalking it, working out the particulars of its realm. He laid still, time ticking by with his watch as the sun moved overhead. By midday he had seen nothing, bar from a flush of green pheasant, of which he shot two with his rifle, bundling them with the foxes, wrapped in a sheet beside him. Then he spotted its shape. Almost fifty inches tall at the shoulder, and about sixty inches long, with deep mahogany fur, darker around the spine of the neck and near invisible white spots on its back. It darted its eyes around the scene with determined caution, prepared to fend off someone who breached his territory, using his impressive antlers. A sika deer, or nihonjika.[4] They were a fascinating species, especially compared to other deer he had hunted. Most would flee when they felt danger, the sika, however would hide. They would conceal themselves, indeed this one had likely done so as Collier hunted for it. But now, it hadn’t seen him, while the reverse was not true.

Collier again lined up the deer’s skull into the sights, the platinum line along the leaf sight crossing the dot sight just at its brow. He pulled the trigger carefully, feeling the take-up on his finger until the sear slipped out from under the striker. The shot was clean, the beautiful creature falling back gracefully, landing in the bracken with a light thrush of foliage and rushing air. Collier stared at it down his sights for a moment, letting out a satisfied exhale before pulling himself to his feet and slinging the rifle back over his shoulder. He grabbed the bundle of shot game beside him, holding it by a length of twine he had tied it up with as he walked over to the beast. Even in death, the buck held its beauty proudly, tall and lean, toned by a life of wilderness.

He dropped the game to the ground, pulling out his knife as he leant over the buck, swiftly and efficiently skinning the creature before sectioning the meat. He wrapped it up in brown paper, tying them with twine from his rucksack. He finished taking everything from the animal after a half hour, only leaving the stomach, intestines and lungs. He stood back away from the beast for a moment, wiping his bloody hands on a parchment of moss, sighing contently. He sat for a moment on a stump, reaching into one of his pockets to pull out a set of cigars, tucking one into his mouth as he reached for a box of matches. He pulled out the yellow box of Swan Vestas, pushing it out of the cover and plucking a singular match from it as swiftly striking it against the side, placing the box back in his pocket. He pressed the flame against the end of the cigar, puffing to light it as pinkish-grey smoke billowed around him, backlit by the sun. He took in a few mouthfuls of smoke before jumping to his feet, smoke whipping about, behind him and grabbing up all the game to take back. Just before he left, having collected all of his things, he removed the head of the buck to boil down to the skull later. He left the rest to nature, feeling curious glances of birds of prey overhead as he began to make his way back.

[1] A wine made from fermented rice.

[2] A Japanese style of bedding. The usually consist of a mattress[shikibuton] and duvet[kakebuton].

[3] The Army and Navy Co-operative was a company, initially a co-operative, established in the 19th century to serve British army and navy troops, selling weapons, ammunition and equipment, everything a soldier might need while serving overseas.

[4] Japanese Dear

[lunarsilkscreen]

Market, Creators, Gatekeepers

I wanted to do a market analysis of creator content and the effects of GateKeeping content.

Something about the music industry, the film industry, and Unions.

The plenty of benefits for workers rights with Unions, which cannot be overlooked. At the same time, however; Unions can *also* be used to keep Creators and Workers down.

A lot of trade unionists would be like "Yea but who cares about Untrained labor like Actors and *influencers*"... And that's kind of half the point.

Every trade worker knows several other experts in their field that can't get a job because they're not apart of the Union.

This is what we call "Gatekeeping". And it's not just a phenomenon that affects YouTubers and Underwater Basket Weavers.

What happens without a Union is that many workers get overlooked, and abused with working conditions that could otherwise be improved. And so laborers working together can get worker protections, paid leave, breaks, even increase the amount of employees so that they aren't constantly overworked. While simultaneously; forcing employers to pay for hours worked instead of using the employee hours as a punishment for not working in the expected manner.

E.g. you fell 1 short of your quota today so now you get docked half a day's pay.

But, Unions can be used against strong employees; preventing them from getting promotions, or even jobs in the industry they've dedicated their lives to.

This happens because the workers at the top of the chain have this idea that "they're at the top, and it's *their* time to shine."

Instead of working for the unions best interest, they mistakenly believe that *they* are the Union's best interest.

It's at this point I should really define what a Union should be used for.

A Union should be used for guaranteeing; payment, employment, equitable working conditions, training, and promotion (both in visibility and getting promoted pay grade) for all employees in the field the Union operates--Even the non-union members.

And that's where the [Beef] typically happens. Why should a Union help employees who don't support the union after-all? But that ostracism, or impassiveness as it is often described, should not include intentionally black-balling non members.

That's where people's lifelines and careers are affected.

We call it Gatekeeping when a non-union member can't gain entry to the union in order to perform their profession. We call it Gatekeeping, when Unions take an [Ours first mentality].

Because as a whole; it causes career fields to stagnate, follow too closely to traditions that prevent improvement, and can literally cause the death of people.

"Why don't you just get a job at McDonald's if you can't work anywhere else?"

Some Gatekeeping is necessary; The U.S. military calls this concept "Legal Discrimination" and it's the idea that; if you're incapable of doing a job safely; perhaps you shouldn't be doing it.

And it's why they tend to stonewall people with disabilities... Instead of giving them the *real* chair force Jobs. The support Jobs in the military, the people who will never see combat.

Now; to be fair to the government; it does mean that every military member is combat ready and deployment ready *no matter what*. But like... We could also use a system for that that doesn't require the people to be combat ready?

Well. Whatever.

In technical trades; this involves safety for heavy lifting, mental health checks so that people don't use equipment for things outside their intended use; and not hiring drug addicts.

Despite seemingly every employee finding ways to bypass the drug tests so they might feel superior or something.

<aside>Melin; why does it seem like you're jumping topics and tangents again?

I'm not, It's all part of the colors used to paint the picture that we see in corporate and technical America. Things we overlook and yet use everyday.

Why certain things exist, and reason for and against!</aside>

And so what we see with top performers in "higher" positions like director, producer, or hiring manager, or training manager, or whatever;

Is this idea that they're the *Top Dawg* and therefore it's *their* face that needs to be public facing.

And because of this limiting belief; it causes "upsets" when some "nonner" seemingly comes out of nowhere despite jobbing in their own way for a lifetime.

"Other people deserve it *more* than you do"

Keep your emotions in check; are you saying other people should hold a certain position, or that they should have a chance at *something*.

What is that *something*?

If it's a well paying Job in the industry; there's plenty of them. If it's being the face of an empire?

In this landscape, and the current way social media works; every single day is a new day for them to learn about sociology and how to Garner a public image and an audience to follow *them* specifically.

But, if you're going to stand in front of creators because you believe they "don't deserve it". All you're doing is pouring gasoline on their fire.

And you're paying for the gas.

This brings me back to what I was talking about "What is the purpose of a Union?"

Is it ensuring everybody gets a fair chance... Or at the very least a long-term steady job? OR; is about forming a line(a queue) to the "top of the mountain"?

Not everybody wants to be at the top of the mountain. They just want to make quality content that can be enjoyed by people that see it.

If *that* shoots them to the top unexpectedly? A Union should be making sure people don't fall.

And probably teach Sociology and Market Trends and Analytics better so that workers understand *why* that thing happened instead of expecting the Union to push them off the mountain for improving the system, or further the art, or "just being silly until the end of their days."