citing sources

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, I know we have a new student but let's settle down and get some work done before we harass Miss Brittany for her life story." Shooting a knowing look towards a group of Aphrodite girls, Dylan smiled at the new addition to his room before turning back to the smart board and switching it back to the next screen. A picture of two Knights sparring greeted them, along with the words Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. "This week we'll be discussing Arthurian legends, specifically their relations to morality. However, this is history class, so our story will have to wait for next hour. Please, hold off on the disappointment until after the slideshow." 


Clicking over to the next slide, Dylan wondered how well the students would take the jump between time periods. They had been covering the Trojan war the week before, but he couldn't quite take the subject anymore. They needed a change and stat. "Now, I know we deal quite a bit with legends that do happen to be true, but I can assure you that I have found no evidence that these would be the same. I hate to break it to you ladies, but Lancelot and Gweneviere did not exist. Now, can anyone tell me why these legends exist if that is the case?" Expecting one of his brighter students to pipe up with the answer, he leaned against the podium and waited. 

@gwen

Briella had spent the entire morning confused by this modern ritual known as school. Something about yelling out the answer without provocation didn't sit well with her. But by the time she had reach Mr. Bridges' class, she though she had gotten the hang out it. And what luck? He was talking about those ridiculous tales the bards wrote from her life. They changed the names to avoid being killed for treason and King Arthur and his traitorous wife Guinevere took on a whole new life.

Think back, she wondered if Lancelot was meant to be the slain knight Sir Landon. Shaking her head, she couldn't bring herself to stay quiet about the insanity of folklore. Raising her hand to gain his attention, she smiled slightly before speaking in a very prominent English accent, "I believe, Mr. Bridges, that if you are referring to the fact that Arthur was not his name, then you are perfectly correct in saying he never existed. Otherwise, you are quite wrong."

Oh great, an AP student. Yes, there was a slight chance that the folklore was based off of some lord, but historians had thus far disproven the theory. As far as he knew, they were just allegorical tales. "well, Miss Brittany, since you seem to have such an extensive knowledge of the subject, would you like to explain your answer? I'm assuming youve covered this lesson before and the class would benefit from the insight." Well, at least it was better than the last time a student had attempted to convince him that Achilles was his father and that the hero didn't die in the Trojan War. That, and he did enjoy allowing the students to express their ideas, even if he had to correct them later.

Smiling kindly, Briella nodded slowly, "The tale of King Arthur was based on the Crown Prince Richard of England. He never did become the King." She giggled quietly, shaking her head, "He was not valiant or chivalrous. In fact, he was quiet mad. Lancelot was based on a young and talented knight by the name of Sir Landon. He gave the Prince's wife his favor during a tourney once and the jealousy ate away at the Prince until he finally snapped. He tried to kill the Princess and, in a true valiant effort of heroics, Sir Landon saved her. He was slaughtered before he eyes, so close that she was covered in his blood." Frowning at the table, she tilted her head to the side and continued, "I think the bards changed the story to paint their Prince as the victim or a treacherous Princess run away with her low-born lover. But I can assure you that is not what happened." She looked at the teacher, not realizing her explanation had been cryptic and not backed up by verifiable fact in anyone's eyes but her own. 

Nodding slowly, Dylan took in the girl's words while glaring at a few of her classmates. The other students seem to have taken her response as a joke and were beginning to gossip, something he would not tolerate even if the story was far fetched. "Alright, Miss Brittany. While I will concede that there have been occasions throughout history where things like this have happened, I'll need you to tell me where you found your information."

Turning to point at a sign on the wall about research, Dylan's eyes swept over the class as a whole. "Remember, citation is key when making an argument. Like a safety net, sources and citations will save you should your thesis begin to fail." Anything could be a teachable moment, right? Maybe Dylan could salvage the class if they still thought they were learning something.

Slamming her hand on the desk, her palm flat so it would make a loud noise, she stood abruptly and looked at the teacher with intense eyes, "I apologize for my interruption, Mr. Bridges, but may I suggest a primary source as documentation of these events?" She said in a clipped tone that suggested she was irritated that he implied she wasn't telling the truth.

"I think now, sir, would be a wonderful time for me to tell the class my life story." She walked gracefully to the front of the classroom and turned to face the class. Briella's eyes found Mr. Bridges and she watched him patiently as if waiting for him to take a seat and listen to her.

"Actually Briella, I believe now would be a wonderful time for us to have a conference in the hallway." None of his students were allowed to ride rough shot over him at any time, and this would be no exception. His voice was firm as he heard two of the students from the back of the room gasp. It wasn't often that his teacher voice came in to play, but here it was and they were more than slightly amused.

Striding towards the door, he held it open for the younger woman until she passed through it. Once it was securely closed, he turned to face her. Though he was used to confrontations, the fact that she hadn't even made it through one class period without an outburst was more than slightly irritating. "Miss Brittany, I do not tolerate that kind of behavior in my classroom. If you would like to let your opinions be known, you will raise your hand and speak in turn with the rest of your class. Now I am willing to hear you out and to let the rest of the class do the same, but you will do so with respect and remain in your seat unless asked to do otherwise. This is a school, not a barn. Now, before you reenter my room, I would like for you to explain to me what this is about so that when we go back through that door we can become a productive class again."

Briella smirked at the man and shook her head, "I apologize, sir, but what reason do I have to respect you? You have not proven any great knowledge to me, and I fear your position as an educator may be compromised by your lack of ability to believe your students may know better than you." She shook her head, a curtain of brunette curls bounced around her shoulders and stood out against the golden yellow bodice of her medieval style dress.

Tilted her head in a regal manner, Briella looked at Dylan with her cold brown eyes and continued, "My name, Mr. Bridges, is Briella Gwendolyn Brittany, Crown Princess of England and Princess of the Norman Isles in the sixth century before I was assumed a traitor for running away from my husband, and future King, Crown Prince Richard of Britain. Sir Landon was killed before my eyes. In my sleep, I can still feel his blood on my hands and arms, weighing down my dress. I ran away and said my vows to the goddess Artemis." Taking a breathe so he could think about her words, she continued after a moment, "Mr. Bridges, I am one thousand four hundred and fifty eight years old. I was born in the year 542 AD. So please, do explain why you, a child, deserves the respect of a Princess and your elder." 

"If a princess and my elder wants respect, she should not pose as a high school student." Well, this one took the cake for weirdest thing of the semester. He really needed to get that award made up. "I hate to inform you miss, but we don't have princes and princesses anymore and you have no authority here. If you are going to be a disruption, I'll have to ask you to leave. You are, after all, much over our age limits for accepting new students." Yea, those shenanigans generally stopped at the age of 21. "Now, if you would like to consult with me on how my class is taught and the information in our text books, you may stay after class. If not, I would highly recommend that you take a few minutes to decide whether or not high school is the place for someone of your caliber."

Sighing, Briella stood tall and shook her head, "Mr. Bridges," She started in a stern, authoritarian voice, "I did not pose as anything. I simply love to learn." Frowning slightly, she continued, "In my previous, and very ancient, experience, scholars and teachers loved to learn as well. It was the only reason they taught at all." Looking at him with serious brown eyes, Briella pursed her lips regretfully, though she felt very little regret at all, "If you were to have begun with something I did not know, I would gladly have left my education in your hands. I would have trusted that you were not teaching improper grammar or literature to the class. Unfortunately, you chose history, and not just any history. You are telling wretched lies about my history. Can you truly fault me for the desire to defend my name and honor?"

"Your name and honor are not in question when the stories posed are untrue. Isn't that what I started off telling the class? Briella Brittany existed, but Gueniverre did not. She's a cautionary tale to prevent women from straying from their husbands. Sir Gawain and his companion the green knight are meant to illustrate the relations between guests and hosts. The history part, comes AFTER the students realize that not ever legend is like theirs. The Romans and Greeks have legitimate histories written in what the rest of the world has written off as folklore, Britain...takes much more poetic lisence. Everyone knows that." Moving towards the door, Dylan placed his hand on the handle. "I will give you this one lesson, but from now on should you wish to interject, I ask that you wait until after class to do so. A lesson can be corrected the next day if need be. I would greatly enjoy learning from you, but classroom management is hard to maintain if the students think they can jump up and do...odd things. Watch,Achilles boy will make a scene by the end of the hour and it'll take the rest of the week to get him settled again." Sharing a small smirk withe the older woman, Dylan opened the door before gesturing for her to enter.

Narrowing her eyes, Briella cupped her hands together in front of her skirt and looked thoughtfully at Dylan, "Mr. Bridges, I have a proposition for you I think may suit us both much better." Smiling she stepped away from the door so the rest of the students wouldn't be able to hear, "Is there still such a thing as a teacher's assistant?"