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Magical Debates by Ravenclaw

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Wizarding Issue:
The Lack of Math, English, and Music classes at Hogwarts
Authors:
Spottedcat (Anne Rhys' letter) and RedandGold (Professor Dumbledore's answering letter)



Dear Professor Dumbledore:

I have a longstanding concern, and though I don't like two of the people involved in this mess, I'm going to write this letter anyway.

The way Hogwarts is set up assumes that students all come in with a good working knowledge of both Mathematics and English writing. This is assuming a lot. Well, it's assuming too much. Hogwarts needs to offer classes in Mathematics and English (especially writing). In addition, I strongly feel that Hogwarts needs a music program.

This is my fourth year at Hogwarts, and as I'm in Slytherin, I've had ample opportunity to see two fellow Slytherins struggling in their schoolwork. Actually, it's impossible to miss their struggles. Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe are falling further behind all the time. And though I am happy to concede, along with three Hufflepuffs, two Gryffindors, and four Ravenclaws in my year, that Crabbe and Goyle are inherently stupid, I think a lot of their academic trouble stems from an inadequate education.

Yesterday in Potions, I watched while Goyle made his Sudden Sleep draught. Professor Snape put the directions on the blackboard, then told us to make one-quarter of a batch. This required us to use one-quarter of each ingredient in our potion (except for essence of eel slime, which we had to cut down to one-eighth, but that's neither here nor there.). (Well, actually, it is either here or there, as you shall find.)

Now, I freely admit that I have trouble with Math, and it's caused me problems in Potions. I made pits in the bottom of my cauldron last year when I accidentally doubled one ingredient of a potion, instead of halving it. But I've never seen anyone struggle with potions as much as Goyle. (Well, maybe Crabbe, but he hasn't done anything spectacular in Potions.) (At least, not yet.) While I divided the amounts in half, and then divided them again to make a quarter (except the essence of eel slime, which, since I needed one-eighth the amount, I divided yet again), Goyle hunched over his cauldron with his tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth. By the time I had my arithmetic done (and listened to a quiet lecture from a Gryffindor about being able to do simple arithmetic in my head instead of dragging it out over half a page of paper), Goyle had put his ingredients in his cauldron.

I had my mind on my cauldron, and I'm used to ignoring Goyle in Potions, so when his cauldron began to shake, I figured he'd put in too much hemlock and his cauldron would quiver for a while. I was just walking past him when his Sudden Sleep draught melted his cauldron. The draught ran down the table and onto the floor. I'm sure you're familiar with the results of a poorly made Sudden Sleep draught, especially since excess eel slime mixed with hemlock can turn a sudden sleep into a permanent sleep. If you received another note from Madam Pomfrey about my being in the hospital wing yet again, Goyle's potion was why. Sally-Anne Perkins overheard Goyle telling Professor Snape that he'd just tried to figure out how much "four outta ten" should be, then put that much in.

Not only is Goyle unable to figure out how to work even the most simple of fractions, but he doesn't comprehend a fraction.

As far as Math is concerned, I'm worried about my own skills, or lack thereof. I've checked ahead in the Potions textbook, and some of the potions near the end require what looks suspiciously to me like algebra. If this is the case, I'll be going down into the depths as far as my Potions grade. I just hope I don't injure anybody. Of course, since Goyle may kill us all with his amazing potions errors, I may not have to worry about a * a(b) = I when I = the second potion ingredient above freezing.

As to English, and writing, I offer yet another Slytherin example as to why Hogwarts needs these classes. Being in classes with Vincent Crabbe, and sitting behind him, as I have frequently in Transfiguration, I have noticed that he writes terrible papers. It's hard to miss his scores, since Professor McGonagall writes all our scores at the tops of our papers, and she has clear, readable handwriting. He has never scored above 50 percent. I have no idea why he is being continued to the next level; the boy can't write. It's not just that he can't write a convincing paper. He can't even write a sensible sentence.

Last Friday Professor McGonagall handed back our papers on the importance of concentration and the errors of distractibility in Transfiguration. I can write; that's no secret, and I float my passing grades on my writing. I don't know what Crabbe floats his grades on. I glanced over his shoulder and saw he'd gotten yet another 0 on his paper. And his first sentence: "If we are distract and concentrate and nothing goes." If you can make sense out of it, I congratulate you. I took the liberty of trying to read his paper when he left his book bag unattended in the common room. Yes, it was wrong of me, but I have been considering writing to you for several weeks, and I looked at his paper only to see if perhaps the rest of it was okay. It wasn't. About half the sentences were like unto the first. The other half were sort of sensible, but they were full of bad grammar. Evidently Crabbe has a fear of all punctuation marks other than periods.

We should arrive at Hogwarts, as I mentioned, with basic skills in math and writing. Some of us have not. We cannot do justice to a magical education without these basic Muggle academic skills. I think Hogwarts needs to meet students where they are, and offer remedial classes at the minimum, rather than assuming students are where they need to be and wondering why some students fail so spectacularly.

Music is another subject, and different than English and math, in that we don't need it to perform magic or write readably. So I address this subject separately. Muggle schools are quick to cut musical education when funding is low. Music isn't academic and doesn't (according to Muggle experts) bring academic scores up. Nor (according to the same Muggle experts) is it necessary in life.

I disagree with both these arguments. A student who has taken the time and expended the effort to learn a musical instrument, or to sing well, is accustomed to applying himself to concentrating and persevering. I use myself as an example; I think playing the harp has helped me learn self-discipline.

But beyond this, learning music brings a sense of accomplishment that extends to all areas of life. I can (and do) comfort myself over my frequent failures in Potions by reminding myself that I can make music. It's not just me who feels that way. My friends Sally-Anne Perkins and John Ignatius sing with me in a trio. All right, we aren't professionals, and nobody's asking us to appear in concert, or even to sing on a Saturday night at the Leaky Cauldron while people drink their beer and ale. But Professor Flitwick and the Bloody Baron have listened to us from time to time, and the three of us were recently very flattered to be asked to sing (and play, since I play the harp) at Ilona's wedding. You remember Ilona; she was a prefect for Slytherin. All right, so we're not actually singing, because she broke up with her fiancé, but we were honored to be asked.

Music is a real comfort to me. I've had a rough time here. I don't know how many times I've taken my harp to an empty classroom to play. I'm all by myself, and there's nobody to tell me whether I'm good or bad. I've found something... healing, I think, about music.

I think Hogwarts needs something musical. Even if you don't want to start an orchestra or a band, could we have a recorder band? I don't mean a tape recorder, like Muggles use to capture sound and re-play it. I mean a musical recorder. It's a sort of a flute with a mouthpiece on the top and finger holes, and it makes a lovely haunting sound. The Muggle ones made out of plastic are inexpensive, and they make surprisingly good music. I have a few with me here at school, and I would be happy to play for you so you can hear how lovely they are. I strongly feel that students at Hogwarts would do better in their studies, and feel better about life, if they have the opportunity to learn music. It could save someone's life.

Please consider what I've written here.

Sincerely,
Anne Rhys


My Dear Miss Rhys,

I would like to thank you for sending me this lovely post. It always makes one feel quite special to receive a lengthy missive such as yours.

I also want to reassure you that I have thought long and hard on the points you have addressed so eloquently. Indeed, I have ruminated on them since they were first brought to my attention by two Slytherin prefects, again when I heard from your Head of House, Professor Snape, and later still when I was cornered in the third-floor corridor by Deputy Headmistress, Professor McGonagall. I must say, I am pleased to see you have left no stone unturned. I appreciate initiative in one so young!

Now, I am certain you are as eager to hear my answers as I am. Let us begin with your first concern, namely that Hogwarts takes far too much for granted in assuming that students will arrive on our doorstep with a basic knowledge of English and Math.

Allow me to say how proud it makes me to find you hold such high regard for education in all its forms, as well as the concern you show for the welfare of others - specifically Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Many of our students would do well to follow your example in such matters, Miss Rhys.

Professor McGonagall was kind enough to check her records and inform me that although you were born in Wales, your own comprehensive education took place in America - Boston, I believe. ( I, myself, have had the distinct pleasure of visiting your country. Several years back, I was scheduled to speak at a Warlock’s Convention in Cornwall, England. Being in a slight fluster prior to Apparating, my concentration was rather spotty and I consequently found myself arriving in Cornwall, Massachusetts. It was a lovely place with simply delightful people. I digress, however.)

I am told that in Boston your education consisted of six years in what is known as an “Elementary School”, where you were fortunate enough to receive instruction in math, reading, spelling, science and music. We find that to be a consistent trend among children who come from Muggle households. Most wizarding families, I beg to point out, do not choose that route for their children and we here at Hogwarts are understanding of that choice.

You see, my dear Miss Rhys, until the age of eleven, the responsibility of education of a child lies solely and squarely upon the shoulders of the parents. To start with, we presume the child will be taught how many Knuts to a Sickle and how many Sickles to a Galleon. Frankly, I find that any child able to fully comprehend Wizarding Money is capable of most forms of math. Dare I admit after all these years that I still have difficulty knowing if I got back the correct change when purchasing socks at Gladrags?

(By the way, I did receive the note from Madam Pomfrey explaining that you were once more a guest in the Hospital Wing. I was exceedingly sorry to hear of it. I do hope you enjoyed the Lemon Drops I sent you; I am particularly fond of that Muggle sweet. Also, I have had a word with Professor Snape and he assures me that Mr. Goyle will be taking Remedial Potions.)

As for learning English, spelling, and grammar, that is also studied in the home. Most parents begin teaching their children to read and write at an early age, with the help of books such as One Witch, Two Witch, Red Witch, Blue Witch, The Poky Little Cruppy, and Goodnight Mooncalf. They continue to improve in reading, spelling, and handwriting until the parents are satisfied with their progress.

(Miss Rhys, I trust no more papers will find their way out of unattended book bags. I have suffered a temporary memory loss and am quite unable to remember the culprit at this time, yet I feel certain a cure will be found for it if the situation were to repeat itself. )

At the risk of being redundant, I will further state that music is also taught in the homes. Children, if they show an aptitude for it, will learn and practice music under the watchful eye of an experienced tutor. Trust me, my sympathies lie with you entirely; I feel music is a magic beyond all we do here. But, to be perfectly honest, the odds are not with us in regards to forming a music class. Let me explain. Hogwarts, any given year, is home to between 280 and 300 students. Let us suppose there is a talented trio such as yours in each House. That only gives us 12 students who show talent for music. And that’s not to say that those twelve are talented in the same areas of music. As often happens in Muggle schools, we unfortunately find that here also musical education of choice is simply not in the budget.

As to the musical devices you call “recorders”, I regret to inform you they are item number 385 on Mr. Filch’s list of banned items as they hurt Mrs. Norris’ ears. You are therefore welcome to take up your cause with Mr. Filch. If he allows them, then the recorders will be obtained for all who wish to learn to play them.

In summation, the Wizarding families of Europe have decided to maintain the Old-World tradition of education in the home until the age of eleven for those children who are accepted into Hogwarts and apprenticeships to a Master Tradesman under whom they can learn a craft for those who are not able to attend our school.

Unfortunately, if a parent wishes their child to learn only the most rudimentary of skills, then we must accept that. Our task once they reach Hogwarts is to teach them the skills they need to make their way in the wizarding world. That is our charge and we strive to carry it out faithfully.

To conclude, it has been a joy reading your highly entertaining accounts of Potions class and, once again, my dear Miss Rhys, I thank you for the pleasure of reading and responding to such a thoughtful and well-written letter. I feel sure this will not be the last time.

All my best wishes,
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster