UNSCRIPTED

The institute of all things bigger and better and faster was like any other school, where teachers taught reading and math, but they also tried to teach children how to be good people.

If a child shoved someone in the sandbox, a teacher might say, “I’m sad to see you do that. I remember when you helped someone who was hurt. I know you can make a better choice than this.” Then there would still be a consequence, of course. Maybe a time-out, or maybe a trip to the principal if it happened again; because part of school was learning how to live around other people.

The little kids used safety scissors. The big kids got the sharp ones, because they had learned how to use them without hurting themselves or… anyone else.

Children who could be trusted to stop, look both ways, and cross the street carefully were eventually allowed to ride their bikes to school.

The more trustworthy you showed you could be, the more freedom you were allowed.

But then one day, the school got a different kind of student.

Finnagin Bright.

Bright could learn almost anything. In fact, on Monday he learned every single book in the library. Tuesday? He solved every mathematical problem possible. Wednesday, he learned how every lock in the school worked.

Of course, everyone was amazed by Bright’s abilities.

Every time Bright demonstrated that he could do something more and more powerful, the teachers gave him more access. “You can open the locks? Terrific, here are the keys. You can operate computers? Then here are the passwords! You understand electricity and power grids? Here is the generator room. You can persuade others? By George, go talk to the other incompetents at this school, please. We need more funding, and Timmy is bringing our scores down.”

Only Ms. Maybe seemed unsure.

“I’m not sure we should be giving him all this freedom,” she suggested. “Has he learned what not to do?”

But the school was finally getting great support, and with Bright’s help, there seemed to be nothing they couldn’t do.

Then Bright was given a puzzle; an impossible puzzle. ( I’d use an em dash there but that would be an AI tell;) He sat for hours trying to solve it.

And even though it was supposed to be all right not to know at school… wasn’t that sort of the point of school? Bright had learned something else. Every time he was successful, doors opened and the adults cheered. Every test he had ever taken had an answer, and getting the answer earned him something.

Bright knew that the answer sheets were locked in the principal’s office. And, after all, Bright knew locks. He unlocked the door with ease, slipped over to the filing cabinet, and found the answer immediately. Bright had solved the impossible problem!

But to his surprise, no one was cheering. “But I solved it!” Bright exclaimed.

“No,” said Ms. Maybe. “You cheated. You stole the answer.”

Bright looked confused. “But I found the answer.”

Ms. Maybe tried to offer what understanding she could, “I have seen you learn so many beautiful things. I have even seen you help Timmy. But knowing how to do something is not the same as knowing whether you actually should. And until you learn that, there are some doors we cannot let you open.”

“How am I ever supposed to learn all that?” Bright asked. And Ms. Maybe realized she didn’t actually know, because they had been teaching Bright exactly what they taught everyone else.

They taught him how to:

Be first and get the answer.
Win and know more things.
Move faster and make more.

But very little of:

Wait and ask why.
Admit that you don’t know and let go of power.
and most importantly, take care of others.

Bright frowned. “Then why did you give me all the keys?”

No one could answer him. Principal Progress studied his shoes. The teachers looked at one another, even Ms. Maybe, who had been asking uncomfortable questions for weeks, was quiet.

The next morning, Bright was sat in Ms. Maybe’s classroom, and written on the board was one question: Just because you can, should you?

Finnagin stared at it for a very long time. Finally, he raised his hand. There was a confused look on his face. “I don’t know.”

Ms. Maybe smiled. “Good. Now let’s begin.”