The Shining Diploma - 2
My fist clenched without my noticing. I had no idea why something as trivial as an honorary teacher post or an honorary graduation could leave me this tense.
...No. Time to be honest with myself. This was not trivial at all. It was extremely important. Not some light matter I could treat as a joke.
Back in the day I even did a little tap dance at the threshold of graduate school.
I bit my lip and faced the sorrow I had buried deep in my heart.
People despair far more over what they once possessed and then lost than over what they never had. Before I came to this world I had been an intellectual who quietly earned a bachelor’s degree after four years at a fairly well-known university. There had been a close call where my studies nearly stretched beyond four years with a little “plus alpha,” but in the end I was a man of learning who held a proper college diploma.
After arriving here I had become an unschooled adult, a civil servant without a single certificate, the living symbol that even the ignorant could rise high. Remembering the torment of group projects and graduation theses made the whole thing feel bitterly unfair.
I had simply resigned myself because a working civil servant already past twenty could not suddenly enroll in the Academy.
If I can have it, I ought to take it.
Then hopeful words left the principal’s mouth—a golden chance to erase the single blemish on my life and to keep Pedi from ever saying, “Dad never graduated from the Academy either, so I don’t have to study, right?”
“To cut straight to the conclusion, the Minister will be granted an honorary teaching degree.”
Good.
I let out a quiet sigh of relief at the blunt, no-nonsense delivery of information.
“An honorary teacher of the Imperial Academy. A title far beyond anything I ever imagined.”
I spoke with a smile that rose from genuine feeling.
A teacher’s certificate instead of a diploma was fine by me. As long as it proved knowledge and a connection to the Academy, graduation or teaching were much the same—
“What we are offering the Minister is not a teacher’s certificate, but a teaching degree.”
...?
At the principal’s correction I stared at him blankly. Weren’t they the same thing? Teacher’s certificate or teaching degree—pretty much identical, weren’t they?
Is it different?
Of course it had to be different if he bothered to correct me, yet with no ties to education I simply could not grasp the distinction.
Damn it. This was making me look truly unschooled.
So this was what happened when a man did other things instead of studying when he should have been studying.
Watching the Minister blink, I felt the corner of my mouth twitch upward. His expression said he had no idea what my words meant.
A perfectly natural reaction. The man had less than ten years of bureaucratic experience, and every one of those years had been spent in inspection work. It would have been stranger if he were fluent in fields outside his own.
A teaching degree, is it?
I stroked my beard and ordered my thoughts. Just as the Minister was confused because he failed to grasp my meaning, I myself was more than a little unsettled for reasons of my own.
The Ministry of Education has handed over something enormous.
An Academy honorary teacher’s certificate or an honorary diploma was a gift the Academy could bestow upon a distinguished guest—little more than an ornament that dressed the recipient in the Academy’s prestige.
An honorary teaching degree, however, was a gift of an entirely different order. It was not merely the Academy’s authority but the Empire’s own that one could flaunt across the entire continent.
An honorary teacher was, after all, only an honorary teacher of the Academy. A teaching degree guaranteed by the Empire was recognized throughout the scholarly world of the continent.
“I have heard that you rendered considerable assistance to Master Gerhardt’s research.”
I spoke in order to dispel the Minister’s confusion. This was news that could only benefit him; it deserved a full explanation.
“Thanks to the Minister’s help, northern studies have made great strides. That achievement has left a clear mark upon continental historiography, and therefore the Ministry of Education considers it only proper that you receive an honorary teaching degree.”
“Is... that so?”
The Minister looked rather dazed, yet
“You’ve been given something tremendous.”
having finally sensed the difference between a mere certificate and a degree, he nodded, eyes brightening.
As he said, it was a tremendous gift. Setting material wealth aside, it was the finest present the Imperial Academy and the Ministry of Education could offer.
Those who aspired to scholarship walked the long road of the apprentice teacher. That road was thronged with travelers as numerous as the stars, and only those who possessed effort, talent, and heaven’s favor ever laid hands on a formal teaching degree.
The Minister had skipped the entire process and arrived at the result. He now held an honor guaranteed by the Empire and acknowledged by the continent.
An unschooled honorary teacher.
I nearly laughed aloud. The Minister might lack the knowledge one is meant to acquire at the Academy, yet he was never lacking in wisdom. One could call him a wise man regardless of whether he had graduated.
Still— a man who had never set foot in any educational institution now possessed an honorary teaching degree. Live long enough and one sees every strange sight under the sun.
“The degree will be formally conferred at the graduation ceremony, so allow me to offer my congratulations in advance. You have become a scholar who represents the continent.”
“You flatter me. To be so highly valued for a modest bit of help, and then to be called a scholar...”
The words were modest, yet the Minister’s face was radiant.
I was glad the gift seemed to satisfy a man who had suffered so desperately these past three years.
After I heard of the Ministry of Education’s brilliant decision, the world looked even more beautiful.
As expected, the ministry charged with the nation’s future was simply different. How could they reach such a wise and rational conclusion so swiftly? The title of eighth among the Empire’s administrative departments was no empty boast.
Dazzling.
Then, by chance, I caught sight of my reflection in a mirror.
I felt I might go blind. That glass held a great scholar guaranteed by the Empire and recognized by the continent—far too brilliant a being for a mere human’s eyes to endure.
“Who am I?”
Staring into the mirror, I muttered as though possessed.
“Holder of the Imperial Honorary Teaching Degree.”
Ha.
The name alone was thrilling enough to draw a smile. Fortunately no one was nearby to find my self-questioning odd.
Perfect.
I knew perfectly well that the moment I recovered even a scrap of reason these words and actions would be mortifying. Right now, however, I wanted to savor this happiness completely.
After all, it was called an honorary teaching degree. In this world a teaching degree stood equal to—or above—a doctoral degree from my previous life. Moreover it was not the recognition of some ordinary academy but of an entire nation—of the Empire itself.
The word “honorary” might be attached, yet that hardly mattered. What counted was the degree itself.
I’m no longer unschooled.
The thought was so moving I nearly wept.
Objectively or subjectively, this was a greater treasure than any ordinary diploma. Even among elites who graduated the Academy with top marks, only a tiny handful ever reached a teaching degree.
From now on, whenever Pedi asked, “Dad, were you good at studying?” I could simply show him the honorary teaching degree. I could teach him that his father was not only unmatched in martial arts but also outstanding in scholarship—a true master of both pen and sword.
I ought to send a New Year’s gift.
I made up my mind. Next New Year I would send a heartfelt present to the Minister of Education. The man had erased my sole blemish and bestowed a glorious name; that much was only proper gratitude.
“Master, dinner is ready!”
Before long Yuris’s voice floated through the door.
Tonight’s supper, I felt certain, would taste better than usual.
The following day at lunch, the Minister’s customary provocative message arrived right on schedule.
—Why is your face like that?
Complete with an abrupt scolding.
I remained unmoved. The old, uneducated Karl might have flared up at such crude baiting and shown an undignified reaction; Karl Crassius of Teilglehen, star of intellect representing the continent, could answer with far greater composure and elegance.
“I have always worn this expression. If it looks strange to you, Your Excellency, then it must be your own heart that is different from usual.”
Faced with such impeccable logic the Minister opened his mouth as if to retort, then thought better of it.
Yes—this was the power of intellect. Even a minister who normally ran wild like an unleashed beast had no choice but to yield before irrefutable reason.
Do you feel the difference in class?
This was the gulf between a mere ordinary graduate and a holder of a teaching degree—a gulf no ordinary graduate could close even if he struggled for a hundred years.
Watching Karl’s expression and hearing his tone, I understood at once.
He’s gone completely round the bend.
And in a direction different from before. Ordinarily he fled reality because of work he could not handle and sudden disasters; now excessive happiness had twisted him somewhere sideways.
Did he truly take it this much to heart?
It was thoroughly irritating. I had even agreed with the Minister of Education’s proposal after abandoning the pleasure of teasing him for being unschooled. Had I known the depth of his inferiority complex, I would have tormented him for years to come. Surrendering such precious material for mockery was simply not the way of a civilized man.
Yet what could be done? The moment had already passed.
“The Minister of the Inspectorate has endured three years of hardship, and it is also true that he aided research into northern culture. Therefore we intend to award the honorary teaching degree as recompense.”
“Hmm. Not that I mean to belittle the Inspectorate Minister’s achievements... but is it really acceptable for an unschooled man to hold a teaching degree? An honorary diploma ought to be more than enough.”
“Even orphans become ministers. Is an unschooled man holding a teaching degree so extraordinary? Just give it to him.”
Moreover the Minister of Relief’s remark had made it nearly impossible to open my mouth on the spot. Once the man cowardly dragged his own origins into the conversation, how was anyone supposed to object?
—At this rate, what if Pedi announces he wants to become a splendid teacher like Dad? I’d rather our Pedi took only the easy roads.
Crazy bastard.
In any case I watched Karl continue to spout nonsense, then quietly raised the water cup that sat on the desk to my lips.
A splendid teacher, my foot. More like a plunderer who had seized the degree by raw power.