「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(228) Teaching

Xavier's School, December 2000

Lynn's POV

For decades, teaching has been something I held dear to my heart.

Not so much for the sense of satisfaction derived from sharing knowledge, though it was undeniably rewarding to observe the youngsters gaining new insights, whether it was to material subjects or the abstract understanding of their own composition and abilities, but rather because I was allowed to play an active role in helping Charles fulfil his dreams.

Although his greater ambition to expand and extend the academy to accommodate humans amongst us had regrettably been met with more than just a couple of obstacles with none willing to join our family once they discovered how gifted the student population and even members of the faculty actually were, Charles never abandoned the idea.

The impossibilities are endless, but he continuously reached out, always bearing this remarkable, and often positively contagious, optimism built upon the most classical concept ever established.

Hope.

While the results reciprocated were usually disappointing, and sometimes even daunting, the dismaying reactions never so much as deterred him from maintaining his faith towards the stubborn community frightened by improvement, or just change.

It has always been something I admired about Charles, his unwavering beliefs in the inner good of all people and his strength to stay loyal to those notions. He never asked, but over the years it had naturally grown upon me to take up his aspirations as my own, and learning to deal with them in the same compassion as he does truly developed my soul into a fuller, and plausibly better, one.

Probably, this would be the core reason why educating was never an entirely similar experience back in Laughlin, even when I was warmly welcomed by the same innocence and liveliness of the young and pure individuals.

Children, mutant or not, all radiated with that precious energy, a boundless burst of pristine vitality untainted by the sins and atrocities of the adult world. They were instinctively curious, but their speculations never surpassed anything evil, and the unwitting insensitivities in their imaginations basically sprouted from their temporary incompetence in formulating their thoughts any more tactfully.

And certainly, I had gotten used to it.

Upon his trip to D.C., Charles endorsed my assignment to relieve one of Jean's Chemistry classes for the elder teens, rationalising that the mature bunch would be an easier one to handle during the span of my recovery, rather than chasing after the wilder kids with my single remaining accessible limb.

Adolescent rebellion, however, was something all of us curiously seemed to have overlooked but thankfully, my powers, coalesced with valid rumours of my conduct during my reign as Disciplinary Mistress, sufficed to keep the defiance at bay.

Irrefutably, it was challenging to juggle my own lectures, taming the sporadically rowdy pupils, assisting Charles with miscellaneous matters, regardless if it was merely for the preparation of his lessons or the tedious administrative work mandated by our college, and caring for my own injury but the series of ordeals suffered, and ultimately conquered, by my body had equipped it with the mental resilience to overcome the normally overwhelming load, albeit with age diminishing that capacity slightly.

Nonetheless, I was utterly grateful for the things that would occupy my time.

Almost like my initial adjustment period when I originally departed the mansion, any idle second would automatically drift my mind into a treacherous abyss, eventually reducing it into a severely depressed state that could only be pacified by the considerable efforts of Charles.