#academic teacher

[opera-ghosts]

OTD in Music History: Composer, conductor, pianist, organist, and pedagogue Max Reger (1873 - 1916) was born 150 years ago in Bavaria. As the central figure of the so-called "Back to Bach" movement that gained steam in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries, Reger represents a rather strange case: Many modern day "classical" music fans -- if they are familiar with him at all -- deride him as something of an aesthetic monster; the prototypically tasteless late-Romantic composer of swollen orchestral scores filled with long and pointless fugues on stylistically unsuitable subjects (like his gargantuan "Mozart Variations"). But Reger was actually a remarkably prolific composer, and a good deal of his original music -- which includes beautiful chamber works, charming piano miniatures, profound solo organ music, artful lieder, and daring unaccompanied violin sonatas -- is entirely devoid of the heavy-handed counterpoint which has given him a bad reputation in certain circles. Arnold Schoenberg (1874 - 1951), for one, was extremely impressed by Reger the composer. Schoenberg summed up his thoughts in a 1922 letter that he sent to his friend and colleague, Alexander von Zemlinsky (1871 - 1942): "Reger must, in my view, be played often: 1. because he has written a lot, and 2. because he is already dead and yet people are still not clear about him (I consider him to be a genius)." One story about Reger has achieved a special scatological immortality within certain "classical" music circles: Reger had a very acrimonious relationship with Rudolf Louis, a German music critic who absolutely despised his work. After Louis published a particularly scathing review of Reger's "Sinfonietta in A Major" (Op. 90), Reger responded with a curt letter which read as follows: "Ich sitze in dem kleinsten Zimmer in meinem Hause. Ich habe Ihre Kritik vor mir. Im nächsten Augenblick wird sie hinter mir sein!" ("I am sitting in the smallest room of my house. I have your review before me. In a moment, it shall be behind me!"). What more is there to say? PICTURED: A lengthy six page autograph letter that Reger wrote to a friend in 1913, discussing various musical matters.

Although in his own day he was often viewed with suspicion as one of the "dissonant ultramodernists" (a fact which is almost hard to believe now), as former New York Times Chief Music Critic Harold C. Schonberg (no relation to Arnold) explained:

"Reger himself thought of his music as a continuation of the German tradition. He also claimed that his music was written in the spirit of Bach and Beethoven. 'I can say with good conscience,' he wrote in 1914, 'that of all living composers, I am probably the one who is closest in touch with the great masters of our rich past.' The music of his own day, composed by epigones of Wagner and Strauss, he called 'perverted rubbish'… [and yet at the same time,] Reger himself felt an affinity to [Arnold] Schoenberg. Indeed, he once told the violinist Adolf Busch that of all of the then-modern composers, he felt closest Schoenberg. Likewise, scattered throughout Schoenberg's writings are references to Reger that make it clear that Schoenberg put him on as high a plane as Gustav Mahler and Richard Strauss…”

Perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising that a mutual fan club existed between Schoenberg and Reger -- after all, despite his own fearsome reputation as a "dissonant ultramodernist" (a reputation which, unlike Reger’s, persists to this day) Schoenberg also cut his compositional teeth working well within the lush Post-Romantic idiom (ex: "Verklarte Nachte")… and he too always proudly claimed an artistic lineage that extended straight back to Brahms, Beethoven, and Bach…

[dreamingawayyour1ife]

[ruthlesslistener]

really feelin' that characteristic finals crunch time experience rn

[teacherstudiies]

August 10 2023 | 🐝

And with this post I conclude my journey of becoming a teacher. Thank you to everyone who has been following along, ever since I started posting in High School. It's been almost 10 years of working towards this diploma. 3 years of High School, 5 years of University and 1 1/2 years of teaching training has gone by so quickly I cannot quite comprehend I am there where I dreamt of being when I was 16. I know she would be proud we did it - so this is for her. I will make sure to become a kind, compassionate, patient and knowledgeable teacher. I truly believe in the power of education and knowledge, and I will forever fight for those who are being denied this power. As Malala once said: “Let us pick up our books and our pens, they are the most powerful weapons.”

However your books may look like, I hope you find the courage to wield them.

[dramashii]

Dr. Romantic Season 3 | Ep 1

They were famous for being inseparable in college. Where she was, he was always there. They were rivals to everything. They argued a lot and it felt like they could never agree on anything. Flash forward ten years later; you hear them buying a house and starting a family together.

Well, I always figured they'd end up together some day.

[anglerflsh]

forever scarred by the fact other countries don't do spoken tests. Like at all. Not even in college. You didn't get called at random in front of the entire class to be interrogated on a subject? You didn't have your grade announced to everyone? Not even once? You didn't experience the slithering joy at being interrogated with someone else who knew less than you, knowing that after they failed to answer your correct answer would look even better? Deranged to me. Absolutely insane.

[x3nshit]

teachers be like “take your time” then give you a fucking time limit

[audliminal]

Anyways I'm so fucking relieved that Porter was evil actually. Bc I was actually so damn mad that he got to be right about Gorgug. Like there's just something insidious about the idea of a teacher who comes in and says they know more about what your path should be. And they push and push and keep telling you that they're only hurting you bc they know you can do more. And it doesn't matter if you feel that way or even if you want to do more, bc they've decided they know the right path for you. And it's only ever your life and your sanity on the line; they're risking nothing. So I was so fucking mad when Gorgug succeeded at the barbificer thing and Porter got to be all 'see? I was only pushing you bc I believed in you' bc you better believe if Gorgug hadn't managed it, the blame would've been on him not Porter....

Anyways with the hindsight that Porter is basically the big bad, it suddenly becomes a question of if Porter even wanted Gorgug to succeed. Like they had to know the Bad Kids were the biggest threat to their plan, so like. Undermining them in whatever way was possible would be smart. And so instead of Porter getting to be Right about how to treat Gorgug, it's like. Was he sabotaging him? Was he trying to make Gorgug fail? And it becomes more that Gorgug succeeded in spite of Porter's bullshit.

[yourdailyqueer]

Chayanika Shah

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Queer

DOB: N/A

Ethnicity: Indian

Occupation: Activist, feminist, professor, academic, writer

[lu-luvslestat]

𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍

𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆

»»————><————««

please, don't let school get to you. I know it's important but it's not worth your sanity. I struggle with this as well. we were taught to give our life to school when in reality, school should just be a part of our lives. be well my loves♡

[hella1975]

they should put snipers in lecture halls and if u talk over the professor they just straight up shoot you

[actual-changeling]

I know that Ellie eventually going to school is a pretty much universally accepted part of the world building, but I am itching to explore her trying to do so and simply being unable to do it.

The child abuse she went through at the hands of FEDRA was probably prolific and cruel, and her life was basically nothing but different kinds of "education" strung together, whether that's whatever they cobbled together for general education or the military training. Joel might know it was bad (cause it's fucking FEDRA), but the extend of her trauma is hard to gauge when you are not in a situation that triggers it.

Her academic trauma does not disappear outside of school, but unless Ellie is in a similar situation it simply won't be immediately obvious (speaking from experience). On top of that, David being a teacher does not help whatsoever.

-

Joel and Ellie agree on a first day of school, but they want to check out the building beforehand, just so they're both a bit more at peace. Ellie is somewhat excited but also scared, and the closer they get to the building, the quieter she becomes, just hanging onto Joel's hand and squeezing it until her knuckles turn white. He pulls her close, notices she is nervous, but he doesn't press and gets them inside. One of the handful of teachers, a woman about Joel's age (they're aware enough to not have it be a man, Silver Lake is a known topic), meets them at the door and shows them around.

Small classrooms with surprisingly comfortable looking wooden chairs (Ellie sees the pillows on them and her mind short-circuits), some old sofas and couches, armchairs, spacious desks and all kinds of posters and materials. There's an art room and it is the only time Ellie's grip on Joel loosens a tiny bit, the array of brushes, paints, and instruments fascinates her, but that moment passes as quickly as it came.

With every step they take, the teacher's voice blurs with Joel's and turns into white noise, her vision grows fuzzy and grey, and she has to keep blinking with fluttering lashes to not sway on her feet when the dissociation gets worse. Absently, her mind keeps cataloguing the floor plan, windows, doors, all exists she can make our and imagine, but by the end of the tour, she cannot remember anything past leaving their house this morning. Something tugs on her hand, and she blinks up at Joel, his gaze loaded with a question she didn't hear, and maybe ten weeks ago she would have pretended she had; she doesn't know.

Ellie doesn't even know why she is reacting like this, there are no specific memories popping up, nothing to fight back, just her mind and body slipping into a protective armor of static like they're pulling her into the fizzling TV in their living room.

"Ellie?"

The teacher's voice snaps her back to a pounding heart and a breath stuck in her lungs, and when she looks down at their clasped hands her nails have left marks in Joel's skin. She lets go at once, holding onto her wrists with her arms behind her back, and she still didn't hear the question. Every cell in her body is telling her to leave, pulling her toward the nearest exit, but she doesn't. There are memories flickering across her vision now, a decade of unjust, painful punishments and her body being pushed to its breaking point, and she decides the answer to that question is more important than whatever they had asked her.

"What do you do? For, like, punishment?"

Her voice is steadier than she is on her feet, so she rocks gently back and force to stop herself from swaying. Joel's gaze burns hot on her cheeks, but she keeps her eyes on the teacher, whose eyebrows are raised so high they disappear beneath her fringe.

"Punishment? We don't- there's not reason to punish forgotten homework or the like here, Ellie, it's supposed to be both fun and educational."

Something about the tone in her voice unsettles her, but the answer isn't satisfying, and she needs to know, needs to know the rules so she can follow them, because the art room looks like it might actually be fun to be in and she is so tired of dark lonely spaces and marks on her back; imagining the disappointed look on Joel's face when her teachers tell him about it is the worst of it all, though.

"What are the rules? When are the drills and what's the consequences for breaking the rules? Is there-" is there a hole, she wants to ask, but her breathing is fast and shallow, periphery dotted with dancing black spots, and she doesn't want to give them any ideas they didn't already have. Joel's hand lands on her back, right between her shoulder blades, and the warm weight his comforting without being oppressive, her breaths slowing just a smidge.

The woman with a name Ellie forgot is taller than Joel with the shoes she is wearing, and she she squats down, the look on her foreign face looks like a a finished puzzle, the final piece having snapped into place. Her features are rounded, soft, a stark contrast to the borderline malnourished and hardened look of pretty much every person around the QZ including her teachers, a few light-brown and grey strands escaping from her ponytail, and Ellie can't help but think that she looks - nice, non-threatening. School isn't supposed to be non-threatening, but this whole building is dripping with it, and it scares her to death; getting this ripped away from her as punishment will hurt even more than escaping packed, concrete classrooms.

"You grew up in a FEDRA school, right?" she asks, voice almost tender, and Ellie can only stare and nod while Joel rubs circles into her back.

"I heard stories about what it was like before I came here, horrible experiences no one should have to go through, especially not a child."

She sounds so much like Joel the comfort laced into her words manages to penetrate the static and soothe some of the panic, her eyes a bright hazel shade, not blue, and she keeps her distance even though she could easily get into Ellie's personal space

"Even before the outbreak, school wasn't like that, and it is definitely not like that here. There is no punishments, Ellie, no real rules or structure outside of general lesson plans, no consequences for not turning in work or being late. This is meant to provide some stability and education, give you a places to hang out with people your age, have some more people to connect with. If you don't want to be here, no one will force you."

Ellie doesn't cry. She doesn't. A deep breath and some determined blinking pull back the tears from her waterline and her chest aches with a vengeance when she thinks about how different it would have been here for her and Riley, how much better. Riley would still be alive. For a few minutes, they're all silent, allowing her to gather the scattered pieces of herself and glue them back together, and when she does, a tiny bit of the fear in her bones has made space for tentative excitement.

"I like the art room," she says quietly, feeling younger than she ever has, and a wave of something washes over all of them. "Do I- can I-"

"You can use it whenever you like, even outside of school hours, as long as you don't leave too much of a mess and use it responsibly."

Liliya, her brain finally provides, straightens her back again, and the lack of a last name during her introduction is probably part of what through her off. Ellie looks up at Joel, a muscle in his jaw ticking with suppressed anger, not at her, at FEDRA, she knows him well enough to realize that, and decides her question about The Hole is both best saved for another time and hopefully not relevant at all.

"Okay," Ellie responds, pressing herself back against Joel and melting when his arm protectively wraps around her shoulders, "I'll give it a try."

Over the relief rushing through her hairs, she barely hears the details the adults next to her discuss, happy to bury her face in Joel's shirt without shame, and she manages to shake off the last wisps of static clinging to her. Maybe this will work out for her, maybe it won't, maybe all she will use are the art supplies, but when they are lead back to the entrance, more than ready to go home, Liliya gives her a smile, eyes crinkling. For the first time in her life, Ellie smiles back at a teacher simply because she wants to, and the hopeful excitement sprouting in her chest is enough to tell her that she will be right on time for her first class on Monday.

[thecryptidzenith]

how much do we wanna bet that Kipperlilly was at the Ashgrove Cemetery mourning a parent when she found the rogue teacher?

[bubblesandpages]

people who want to read dark academia while still in school are madmen

[beau9]