Exchange of Realities

Because most of us are young, and because so many stories are from the point of view of the Teenage Hero Out to Save the World, we tend to deal with the mentor-student relationship primarily from the student’s side. As such, we probably have a rosier picture of the student.

But we need to bear in mind that the student isn’t just going to be an admiring little Mini-Me, or cheerfully loyal and friendly. There are reasons why “Apprentice” can be a major Flaw in some game systems. Imagine being a teacher and let me show you what I mean.

The student might just not listen. Maybe he just plain doesn’t respect you, or maybe there’s some sort of social difference—class, gender, family, species, you name it. Perhaps he’s completely uninterested in the material. Or he doesn’t see the point of having a teacher, and thinks he’s one of those Speshul Geniuses, and that he doesn’t need to apply himself and certainly doesn’t need to waste his time on little things like the basics.

Or maybe he doesn’t get the material, no matter how many times—or in how many ways—it’s explained to him. This gets even worse when he’s still convinced he’s a Genius; “mastering” a technique incorrectly can lead to extremely bad habits, and will he believe he learned it the wrong way? No. Or if he does, clearly it’s your fault. You can’t win!

Conversely, he could believe he’s stupider than he is. I’ve known a lot of people like that; most of them are wrong, and I find myself wanting to throttle whoever convinced them they were that ineffective. Or maybe he is considerably smarter than you, utterly gifted, and capable of mastering concepts that still leave you shaking your head. How do you teach someone like that?

But lack of enthusiasm or difficulty fitting the style to the student aren’t the only things that can make a student hard to work with. Too much enthusiasm is dangerous as well. Some have an incorrect image of the field they’re studying. Take (please!) the oft-repeated stable of fantasy, the kid with a head full of stories who doesn’t understand how un-glamorous fighting is and needs to be set straight. Or “conspirators” who need to be reminded that acting like the spies in their stories makes them blasted obvious and that they need to be subtle. And then there are the ones who want to try something new, get to the good stuff, come on already (see Speshul Genius above). Or the ones who, while they ask good questions, always ask the ones you can’t answer (and may or may not be smarter than you).

And then there’s the kid’s family. Particularly if they are more powerful than you. Not only could they be constantly pressuring you to make sure he learns fast! and well!, never mind that those are usually mutually exclusive, they might be reinforcing him in any of the above patterns. Or just chewing you out if Junior is unhappy with his lessons.

Now, imagine all these issues coming together. Say you’ve got one of those noble brats who’s heard a bit too much about the Wonders of Magic, mostly in tales of a Great Summoner ancestor of his whom, just your luck, he is the spitting image of, and everyone’s been telling him how this means that he must be highly Gifted as well. So he wants to summon a demon. A big one. And he figures that just because he’s done the circle right once, he can do it again, no problem. If you forbid him from going on, he’ll whine to his parents and you’ll never hear the end of it. If you let him try it—well, best case scenario is that the satisfaction from watching him get maimed by the demon before you banish it will be ruined by his parents making your name and possibly parts of you into mud. (Or the kid will succeed and get overconfident, but that’s usually a symptom of Narrative Immunity. Ew.) What’s a teacher to do?

Having a student isn’t always fun and games. But that’s where the drama comes from, right?