The Forest at the Edge of the World(15)

Mahrree was suspicious and intrigued. “What kinds of issues?”

“Things such as the color of the sky; which is better, cats or dogs; the origin of our civilization; why the western ruins exist; what really happens when a volcano explodes. Small, simple things.” He looked at her haughtily.

“I had no idea all these had been decided!” she exclaimed derisively. “Now, I agree that one or two of those things need no discussion, but to say we know the exact color of the sky? We could argue that all night.”

One side of his mouth—the side with the scar—lifted into a half-hearted smile. “What color is it?”

“Blue. On some days. White on others. Blue with white, then white with blue. Gray. Black. Black with white dots—”

“Yes, yes, yes, the first debate many children engage in.” He sounded bored as he cut her off before she could begin describing sunrises and sunsets. “Of course you’d bring that up. I’ve been told you spend your time teaching the simplest ideas to the youngest children.”

“The earliest lessons are the most important, Captain,” Mahrree pointed out, ignoring his insulting tone. “How children learn to think about ideas when they’re young influences their ability to reason when they’re adults. If they don’t learn to think beyond the simplicity of what seems to be an easy question, then they’ll fail to realize the deeper levels of every problem. That’s why we begin the six year-olds with the ‘what color is the sky’ debate. The obvious answer is blue. But ‘blue’ isn’t obvious; it’s just lazy. From the beginning children need to learn that there are no simple questions, and no simple answers, so they can discover the best answers for themselves.”

Many in the audience applauded, most likely the parents of her students.

She took a step towards the captain. “How have you begun to teach your child, Captain?”

The captain’s half smile returned. “I am not a father, nor am I married, Miss Mahrree.”

She gave him half a smile back and said quietly, in the same tone he had used, “I should have known!”

The captain only blinked at her insulting manner. “So,” he continued loudly, “I suppose I’m not in a good position to judge whether such discussions are still useful. But the Administrators have issued a suggestion to teachers in Idumea. Instead of spending time debating the difficult nature of the sky with the children—”

“But learning is difficult!” she interrupted. “It’s supposed to be! That’s what makes it rewarding—”

The captain held up his hand to stop her.

Surprising herself, she obeyed.

“The Administrators have suggested,” he repeated steadily, “that the children be told that the sky is blue, since it almost always is.”

Mahrree folded her arms. “Years ago I heard a revered scholar argue that the sky is not intrinsically blue. It’s actually black. The blue that we see is merely an illusion—a trick of the sun, since once the sunlight is gone, so is the blue.”

The captain squinted. “Blue is an illusion?”

“Very much so, Captain.”

“Fascinating, Miss Peto,” he said sincerely. “I’ll have to look further into that. But such a concept is too complex for young children, and that’s what the Administrators believe. To avoid confusion, children will be taught that the sky is always blue. This way they need not worry about getting the answer wrong on a test.”

Mahrree’s insides twisted. So much the Administrators had done in the past two years had been of great benefit to the world. They lowered taxes significantly—eliminated them completely for the first two full seasons—and had made suggestions to the manner of food distribution, herd growth, and farm development. None of that really meant much to her, since she knew nothing about them.

But this?

For some reason, the idea that the Administrators were now trying to influence the way parents and teachers taught their children filled her with traitorous thoughts of doubt.

“The sky is always blue? But that’s not accurate,” Mahrree protested.

“It’s accurate enough,” the captain said.

“Accurate enough?” she nearly wailed. “That answer simplifies the question inappropriately and fits only limited circumstances. This past Raining Season the sky was rarely blue. It was gray and depressing!”

“Just tell them that underneath it all, despite what they may see, the sky really is blue and they can count upon that fact,” the captain said indifferently. “Children are simple, needing only simple answers.”