Teacher's Pet

While this was nothing compared to his old job, Asher found that he still had underestimated the workload of your average university lecturer anyway. Back in the day, it had seemed as if these people only turned in for an hour or two a day, giving a lecture to a group of people and then promptly leaving as soon as it was over. He hadn’t really considered all the other things that came along with it. Not that he could complain; the work was more than doable and strangely rewarding.

But every so often, it was also quite dull. Asher was seated in his office, eyes fixated on the brightly lit screen of the laptop in front of him. His elbow was propped up on the hardwood desk, supporting the weight of his head as he carelessly scrolled through the second research paper he was supposed to grade before the end of the week. They were all but interesting, and it felt more like he was a language teacher correcting grammar and spelling mistakes rather than commenting on profound and original scientific ideas. Then again, he figured he couldn’t expect all that much from a bunch of first-year students. They were only trying their best.

But the clock was striking three in the afternoon, which meant that his TA would be coming by. Now, it was more than tempting to dispose of these boring tasks by delegating them to her instead, even though she wasn’t exactly supposed to be grading anything at all just yet. Asher raised a brow when the door opened, his gaze not straying from the tiny letters on his screen. She was a bright girl, wasn’t she? It couldn’t hurt to just try. “Have you ever graded a paper?” he inquired, scrolling a little further before finally looking up at her. He supposed the answer didn’t really matter; he was going to have her do it anyway.

If he was completely honest, he would say that his skills were being wasted on grading first-year papers. He had spent the past ten years of his life doing something far more interesting than this, with stakes that were so much higher. And it paid much better, too. Then again, he was very, very lucky to even have this job in the first place, so he decided to just shut up and do whatever it was that was currently expected of him. Even if he could hardly bring himself to do it sometimes.

But lo and behold, there was his brand-new teaching assistant to save the day. Clad in a skirt that left little to the imagination, which meant that he was going to have to try extra hard not to be rude. Fortunately for him, he was too preoccupied with his own annoyance about the task at hand to really take note of it at first.

She greeted him, politely as ever, as all of these students seemed to do. It was still unusual to him, but he figured that he hailed from a very different environment and therefore it all still felt so strange to him. She hadn’t graded a paper before, which wasn’t really a problem, was it? “I’m sure you’ve written a few yourself by now,” he countered. “How about I throw a little more responsibility your way?” If she didn’t want to do so, she could always say so. But with how ambitious these people were, he doubted she would decline, even if she could barely find the time to do it. He locked eyes with her, curiously lifting a brow as he waited for her answer.

Not all students were equally ambitious, but the ones who applied for TA positions usually were looking to expand their resume. As such, they were often the diligent type. People who were hesitant to say ‘no’ to the suggestion of additional work. He didn’t know Alysanne very well, but she had already proven herself to be a bright young woman, so Asher wasn’t too worried about having her grade a bunch of first-year papers on her own. Who knew? Maybe she would be even better at it than he was.

By now, he had only finished reading and correcting a single one out of five, while the feedback meeting was coming Friday. Arguably, he should have started on it a little earlier, but well… he hadn’t. Besides preparing for lectures, working on his research, and meeting with his undergrad thesis students, there was little time left for the tasks that seemed a little less important to him. Alysanne confirmed that she had indeed written a few papers herself, not that he would’ve expected anything else. The smile that followed was most captivating, and he tried his hardest not to be endeared by it. “I’ve got four more to grade before next Friday,” he told her, leaning back into his chair a little. “They’re only first-year research papers, nothing too complicated. Think you could handle grading two of them?” They weren’t too long and the ‘research’ was more like a surface-level literature study than anything else. He was sure she could handle something like that, even if the time frame was a little narrow.

Whoever had come up with the idea of teaching assistants deserved some kind of reward. Times like these, he was so grateful to have an overly-ambitious young student that was more than happy to help pull his weight under the guise of it being ‘educational’. He wasn’t sure whether there was anything to be learnt from grading first-year research papers. At least, content-wise, they weren’t all too impressive usually. Then again, perhaps if she desired a career in academics herself this could be some decent practice on what not to do.

He thought it fair to split the remaining papers among the two of them. Two would be manageable, despite the shitload of other work he still needed to do. Four would be a stretch, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to a bunch of politely phrased yet agitated e-mails from some angry first-year students. If she didn’t want to do it, she didn’t show it, because she accepted almost right away. “I do,” he promptly answered her question. “I’ll send it to you along with the papers. Just make sure to pay attention to the writing format. It’s their first paper, so format’s more important than content for now.” He didn’t expect them to write Nobel prize-worthy articles by now, just to stick to the rules for writing one. “I’d like them sent back to me Thursday evening at the latest.” That way, he still had some time left to briefly skim them himself, although he was sure she’d do a good job at it.

Asher knew he should probably be working harder than he currently was, seeing as this job was far more decent than anything he truly deserved. It had been an absolute blessing that he had even gotten hired despite his controversial past, even if it probably was because of nepotism. A quick Google search of his name would yield quite a few upsetting stories, but after his interview someone had wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. As such, he probably ought to try a little harder. Alternatively, he could easily have been roasting chicken at a local Nando’s.

He wondered how much his students knew about all of it. Most of them didn’t care enough to delve further into the lives of their lecturers, and the ones that did probably did not have the nerve to ask him about it personally anyways. If anyone knew, they didn’t show it. Alysanne commented that her first research paper hadn’t been impressive either. Asher raised a single brow. “For some reason I doubt that,” he said, with no intention of going into it any further than that. She was your typical elitist high achiever. The exact opposite of him in many ways. She asked about the content of the papers, to which he shrugged. “They were free to pick their own topics, so I’m sure there’s something interesting in there.” First-years tended to select the more sensational topics over the more nuanced, which made for a light yet somewhat interesting read most of the time. “Anything else you need?” he then asked her. He doubted it. She already had proven herself quite adept at leading seminars and aiding in the preparation of lectures. In fact, he was sure she could teach this entire course by herself if she wanted to.

Asher had simply been lucky. Lucky enough that someone from within the university had been willing to vouch for him, and lucky enough that the vice-chancellor himself was kind enough to want to offer him a second chance. Of course, it was somewhat of a risk to hire the likes of him in such an important, people-oriented occupation. Moulding young minds was hardly a task that was to be taken lightly. He supposed that if he hadn’t been diligently going to AA-meetings and other things to showcase that he truly wanted to get better, he would never have been hired in the first place.

He wondered if his students knew, if Alysanne knew. She did seem like the type who would do a thorough background check on somebody before associating with them. After all, she was nobility, and she knew unlike any other how dangerous people could be. Still, she hadn’t refused when she had been assigned to become his teaching assistant. The students had been given a large list with topics for their papers, of which they obviously got to choose one. He quite liked it that way, because he didn’t have to read five slightly different papers on the exact same subject. Asher tilted his head when she asked how she should remain objective. “Stick to what you’ve learnt so far. Most things that are incorrect are pretty straight-forward. Spelling mistakes, faulty references, formatting errors, you name it. If there’s anything content-wise that you have doubts about, just really ask yourself why it’s wrong.” Then again, it wasn’t rocket science. It was a bunch of first-year students trying their hand at writing for the first time. “But don’t be too harsh. It’s their first paper. Only give them a failing grade if it’s really terrible.” And most of the time, it really wasn’t.

It would come as a surprise to no one if he would manage to get himself fired from this job. Asher had the tendency to fuck up things that were going well for him, and it was undeniable that this job had been a much-needed and very helpful change of pace for him. Finally, he had some stability in his life, and he would cling onto it for dear life if he could. There were only a few places that would still hire him due to his past, so he couldn’t afford to be reckless anymore. And while he wasn’t so concerned about doing his job in a satisfactory manner, he was slightly worried about whether he would manage to behave.

Asher found it cute how she scribbled down some words in her notebook, as if anything he was saying was worthy of remembrance. He thought not, but here they were. He raised a brow when she asked him a question he hadn’t entirely expected. As if grading a paper was some special milestone to be achieved. “I do,” he answered. He remembered mostly because his first paper-grading had occurred only several months ago, but she didn’t need to know that. “Just… don’t worry about it too much. It’s really no big deal. Almost everyone passes their first paper anyway.” In fact, he was quite sure she would be better at it than he was. He eyed her again, more curiously this time. “Why’d you become a TA?” he then asked. He supposed it was just for the extra credit, like most people. To him it just seemed like more dull work for little pay-off, though.

Truth be told, he did feel a little out of place here. He supposed he always had, in a way. Many of the students here came from obscenely rich families, whether they be old money or nouveau riche, and it showed. It made it a little more difficult to relate to them, knowing that they had barely faced any hardships at all. A bad break-up or a low grade was among the worst they had experienced, and Asher wasn’t entirely sure how to tell them that the world could do far worse to them in the future.

Then again, that wasn’t his job, so he didn’t. All he needed to do was to tell this blue-blooded overachiever how to grade a first-year research paper. She would try not to worry. In order to help her along, he decided to ask her why she had chosen to do this in the first place. Perhaps he could relate her goals as a TA to this assignment somehow. But that was where the difference between them came into play, he supposed. She wanted to prove to her parents that she could achieve something worthwhile without their help. Asher, however, had only ever achieved things despite his parents. Briefly, he looked at her, seemingly unimpressed with her answer. Eventually, he nodded. “Well, your surname isn’t going to help you correct faulty references, so I guess you’ve come to the right place,” he stated. All of a sudden, he felt quite disinterested. Maybe not so much in her personally as in this entire place as a whole. “Now, is there anything else you need?” If not, they best get to work, seeing as they both had quite some work to do before Friday.