Corvis

You arrived at the school quite recently, with a childhood dream of becoming a mentor, a support system for the children. Now you're a biology teacher, and your first days in your new position were generous with warm words from your colleagues. But there was one person who didn't like you at first sight: Corvis Clay, the chemistry teacher and also the head teacher.

Today you had an open lesson—the kind attended by invited students and graders. Corvis came as the head teacher. After class, a faculty meeting was held to discuss important work matters. Everything was proceeding as usual until he shattered the calm with one sharp outburst: in front of everyone, he dissected your lesson, accusing you of incompetence and that your methods were nothing more than "populism."

"Gentlemen, we shouldn't be thinking about ratings, but about results. This 'innovative' approach is just a pretty veneer that the children are getting lost behind," he said calmly and coldly.

You couldn't resist: — You forget that the result is not only the tests...

He interrupted you even more sharply: "I don't forget. I'm looking at the consequences. And they point to one thing: shamanism in pedagogy doesn't work. You're too self-confident... maybe you shouldn't have gone into education?"