(no subject)

I asked a year 11 to do me a favour in class.

"Yes, boss," he said.

I liked it. I told them I liked it, too. I said that patriarchal name conventions and word associations make female epithets less powerful, and that there is an automatic heirarchical difference between the associated power levels of 'miss' and 'sir'. I told them that transgender teachers ought not to have to answer to an honorific that they feel uncomfortable with, and that a gender neutral term would save a lot of hassle that way. I told them that there is an implied heirarchy implied by the term which might well promote the sort of respect that teachers deserve to have in their classroom; that I am responsible for everything that happens in the classroom and therefore in charge of it; that because they get their rent, food, clothes paid for them school is, essentially, their job.

They stared at me for a couple of seconds, while I giggled to myself about how impassioned an argument I can make on the basis of a minute's thought and a whole ton of bullshit.

"Yes, boss," they said.

Rec

I'm in the middle of reading Neither/Nor, the final part in the When Two Go Together Along the Way series.

It's Lewis fic, listed as Lewis^Hathaway because it's entirely more complicated than '/' or '&'. I recommend it wholeheartedly because frankly it's like reading an episode of the show; it's like I can picture exactly the way it would be filmed, and that is something that is absurdly rare for me. Mostly my head is words; almost entirely my head is words. I know how something ought to be described when I write but it comes to me as sentences and not images, so although I can keep things internally consistent it's not because I have any idea where anything is. This story, though, recreates the honey-gold tones of Lewis' Oxford in my head perfectly. I'm really impressed and enjoying it hugely.