The backpack field held for the entire morning and it felt like I could hold it all day without straining. Whether it was the difference in weight or size, I didn’t know. Maybe I’d experiment with that later. For now though, I was just happy for the chance to use the field all day long. If my guess was correct, this kind of practice should seriously increase the time that I could hold myself in R1.
The workday with the students was rather typical. Dad had them working on simple shapes using the different tools available. The pieces themselves weren’t the point, rather it was just getting used to the tools, the heat of the forge and the safety precautions. You have to start small, just like in Kung Fu. You don’t put a beginner into a sparring match in their first month. They need to learn how to punch and kick properly first. So, I spent the morning reminding students that were at least three years older than I am to put on their safety glasses or to put on their heat resistant gloves before they use the forge. I showed them how to hold their tools properly so that they didn’t drop what they were working on and when they found that they couldn’t pound their metal into the shapes that they wanted, I reminded them about the importance of knowing the temperature at which different metals became malleable. I also reminded them to stay hydrated. Most of them took my help in stride, but I could see that a few of them didn’t appreciate being schooled by a ‘little girl’. I wasn’t worried about it though. I’d see this often in Kung Fu and I’d learned not to take it personally. Some people just had preconceived notions that they couldn’t get past. Eventually, people either come around or they ignore my warnings and do something stupid. Part of my job was making sure that they didn’t get hurt while doing something stupid.
Usually, it’s the bigger men, those that liked to preen in front of the mirror and admire their muscles, that have an issue with me instructing them. I don’t even blame them really. Their size advantage has other men listening to them with respect, while women see them as alpha males and want to attach themselves to the top dog. They’re just not used to listening to others, especially not high school girls. In Kung Fu, this attitude is easy to correct. I simply make them hold a pad while I show them the proper technique for a kick, and I make sure to put a lot of power into my kick. They get the message very quickly.
In the classroom, things aren’t so easy, and I need to have much more patience. In this class, I had two students that didn’t take me seriously. One was a pretty hotel management student and the other was Tyler, the cute boy that I mentioned to dad. I guess pretty or cute didn’t equal smart. Big shocker there.
Neither of them fell under the ‘big strong man’ category though. Rebecca, the management student, seemed to be a teacher’s pet type that looked down on lowly teaching assistants. Since the first day of class, she had staked out the closest furnace to dad’s and she hung onto his every word. Normally that would be a good thing, as you would expect her to soak up his teachings. In this case, she seemed to hear his voice, but not take in what he was saying. Dad and I had discussed her failings and he had asked me to keep a close eye on her, as she was likely to burn herself or hurt others. If dad still felt the same way towards the end of course, he wouldn’t pass her. Dad is a big believer in safety and if a student couldn’t be trusted, he made sure that they didn’t continue in blacksmithing.
Tyler was a different story altogether. He was smart, but he was too confident in his own abilities. I think that he saw me as an annoying little sister type, and he tended to ignore me because of it. When I’d come around and offer suggestions, he’d cut me off with an ‘I got it’ and continue to do what he was doing. Maybe his past had given him good reason to be so confident, but I’d found that the voice of experience was ignored at your own risk. I didn’t think that he was a danger to anyone, but I was certain that he’d make many mistakes that he could have avoided, if he’d simply listen. Then again, maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was just an asshole who didn’t respect women or believe that they had worthwhile opinions.
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“Hey Tyler. Where’d you get that iron ingot from?” I could see that he was getting ready to place the piece of iron in the forge. I looked him over to make sure he had all his safety gear on.
“The back table on the left. The one with all the other ingots on it.” Tyler kept working, without even looking at me.
“Are you sure? Because it has a blue mark on the side. I put aside a few ingots this morning and marked them with blue to indicate that they had too many impurities in them. They’re going to be returned to the supplier or maybe used by the higher-level students for learning purposes. I also made sure to place them on the table on the right and I mentioned it at the start of class.” Ok, I was a bit pissed off with him. He’d completely ignored me. What a jerk!
“Well if the higher-level students can learn from it, why can’t I?”
“For starters, they can recognize the impurities while they’re working and adjust their temperatures accordingly. They’ve also learned different techniques that can remove the impurities or lessen their impact on the final product. Impurities when you’re forging a sword can result in a weak sword that will break the first time that you use it. Too many impurities can turn the metal brittle. The best option is to not use the impure metal in the first place.”
“Uh huh. And how do you even know that it has too many impurities in it? It looks like all the other ingots.”
“I just do. Some people have a feel for the metal.”
“Seriously? A ‘feel’ for the metal. So you’re just guessing?”
“No. That ingot has too many impurities in it. Maybe it’s a difference in the weight that I can notice. Who know? I’m usually right.”
“Ok. Whatever.” Tyler turned away from me and placed the iron in the forge.
“Actually Mr. Walker, Abby’s judgements about impurities have always been accurate.” My dad had walked by during the conversation. “Even our supplier has stopped testing any batch that she sends back. However, she is the teaching assistant for this course, and you have chosen to ignore her warning. Feel free to continue your lesson, but you will be billed for that ingot. It’s not very expensive, but the school shouldn’t have to pay for your waste.”
“What if she’s wrong? What if I complete the lesson properly with this ingot?”
“In that case, Mr. Walker, you will not be charged, and I will give you a perfect score on the assignment. It goes both ways though. If she’s right and you don’t complete the lesson because of the impurities, you will get a zero on the assignment. Your choice Mr. Walker.”
During the discussion, we had gathered a few onlookers from nearby forges and the noise level had decreased considerably. Tyler looked around quickly at his classmates and looked at dad.
“I’ll take the chance, sir.”
“Very well, Mr. Walker. Good luck to you. Although I have to wonder why you’re taking this course, if you have so little faith in me.” Dad didn’t look upset, only a little sad.
“It’s not you, sir. You’re an excellent teacher and I admire your work. However, your teaching assistant hasn’t earned my respect. Getting a job based on family connections has never impressed me.”
“Do you really believe that I would entrust beginner-level students to an inexperienced assistant? Do you think that the President of the University, who personally approved her hiring, would let me get away with providing someone who is inadequate to the job of ensuring the safety of his charges, just so I can have some extra daddy-daughter time? Really, Mr. Walker. You need to re-examine your basic assumptions. Miss Smith has over seven years of experience at the forge and is at least the equal of almost every blacksmithing student at this university. Now, please tend to your forge, Mr. Walker, and we’ll see how you do.” With that, dad went off to oversee the progress being made by his students.
I looked over at Tyler, who seemed to have wilted under dad’s rebuke. I was pretty sure that offering suggestions at this time wouldn’t be helpful, so I left him to his own, only passing by occasionally to make sure that he wasn’t doing anything dangerous.
As the class was winding down, dad went over to inspect Tyler’s work. Tyler didn’t look happy. I could tell that the impurities had made his object brittle and when dad tapped it with the hammer, it crumbled. Tyler would get a zero on this assignment and he’d have to pay for the ingot. I just hoped that he learned something from this and didn’t end up hating me more.