"Have you asked about his studies?" Alfred reminded while folding towels, "Sir, you've just transferred Jason, and you've been closely supervising their howork lately, perhaps you should also pay more attention to the young master's studies."
Bruce rubbed his chin and nodded, agreeing with Alfred's insightful observation. He pondered and then said, "Previously, I underestimated the toll frequently changing schools can have. He's experienced bullying as a result... I think I need to visit his school personally. But I certainly can't storm in there in my Batman costu, that would be horrifying."
"How about picking him up from school tomorrow?" Alfred suggested, "You could go early, et his teachers, observe his classmates, and get an idea of his school life."
Bruce arched an eyebrow, nodding as he responded, "I must say, Alfred, you always provide valuable inspiration. I should indeed speak with his teachers, about his grades, his future direction, his extra-curricular activities, and so on."
Back in his bedroom, Bruce pondered the discussions he would have with the teachers tomorrow before drifting off to sleep.
It was a restless night. Bruce didn't sleep well, filled with an inexplicable tension.
He knew that in Gotham, hardly anyone could criticize him, but thinking about facing Dick's teachers and understanding his school life made Bruce feel sowhat helpless.
Like any student preparing for an important test, Bruce got up early the next day, making his way to the Gotham University cafeteria to find Victor, who was having breakfast.
Victor was surprised to see that Bruce had co looking for him. He paused, putting down his cutlery, and said to Bruce, "Didn't you confuse the eting tis? I said next Tuesday, not today."
"No." Bruce sat down, appearing sowhat stiff. He declined the approaching waiter's invitation to order food.
"I'm going to Dick's school today, to ask...about his studies." Bruce's choice of words was dry, and the darting eyes suggested he was a little nervous.
Before Victor could respond, Bruce quickly continued, "I made a mistake before, I let him constantly change schools. This has left him perpetually in unfamiliar surroundings, he was even bullied. Had it not been for Tim, I wouldn't even have known."
"I'm a bit worried..." Bruce fiddled with his finger, expressing his vulnerability.
"Worried about what?" Victor asked.
"What if Dick isn't doing well at school? Can I just keep switching his schools? Until when? He is uncomfortable in one environnt and wants to change to another, but what if he can't adapt to new surroundings?"
Victor laughed softly and just said, "Don't worry, Bruce, Dick's a big boy now. He has his own ideas. He will choose a way of life that feels comfortable to him."
While Victor continued eating his breakfast, he added, "I don't have children, but I've taught middle-school children. They have a lot of ideas. As much as adults may have trouble believing it, they can manage more than you'd think."
"Children at this age are not as fragile as you might think. Dick, in particular, is incredibly smart and resilient. You mustn't fuss too much."
Bruce nodded again, although his rational mind was telling him that Victor was trying his best to soothe him, he still felt Victor's consolation didn't quite give him the answers he needed.
Bruce didn't eat breakfast but he didn't feel hungry, he just felt a hollow emptiness in his stomach and a sinking in his heart. Once he arrived at Dick's school this feeling intensified.
The school's principal warmly received Bruce, and Dick's guidance counselor was an experienced older woman. She sat with Bruce in the visitor area of the principal's office, discussing matters related to Dick's school life.
But in reality, there wasn't much to discuss. In front of the principal, the counselor couldn't possibly say that Dick was being bullied or hurt, let alone admit that Dick wasn't a good student.
When it ca to discussing actual grades, the counselor subtly suggested that Dick might have better prospects in ballet and artistic gymnastics. Bruce imdiately understood her implied ssage.
"Are Dick's grades not very good?" Bruce asked.
The female counselor hesitated a bit, but then spoke out: "We do not encourage putting too much academic pressure on children at this age. Many parents in the class are eager for their children to excel, overemphasizing grades, which puts a lot of pressure on the children."
Bruce understood her hint; the counselor couldn't directly say "Dick's studies are not good because the parents do not pay attention to him".
Bruce didn't really have the emotional intelligence to understand the counselor's subtle hints. He could only force himself to use his superior intellect to decrypt the secrets behind these social hints, but it was really exhausting.
"What do you think I should do? I an, how can I help him improve his grades without putting too much pressure on him?" Bruce asked thoughtfully. He then added:
"I don't necessarily want him to get into a prestigious university, but I feel that such grades are wasting his talents. If it's because I didn't demand anything from him and let him slack off, I think things should change."
The female counselor took out a few notebooks from her bag, pushed them towards Bruce and said: "These are the exercises left by the math teacher yesterday. The problems are a bit difficult. Given his academic level, it's normal if he doesn't understand sothing."
As Bruce listened to her and flipped through the notebook, the counselor continued: "We also allow the kids to write their calculation process next to the questions. This way the teacher can better understand their problem-solving approach and help them correct errors."
"What worries though, is that Dick's calculation process appears a bit haphazard. He started off fine, but for so reason he got stuck on one result. Even after many attempts to solve the problem, he ended up scratching out the previous steps in frustration."
The counselor shook her head gently and said, "We always emphasize to the children that if they can't figure out a problem, they should skip it. They could even hand in a blank and ask us later about how to solve it. Every teacher would be willing to help."
"However, in the howork he handed in today, there's not a single correct answer, the calculation process is sloppy, the notebook is scribbled on, and throughout the day, he never sought out a teacher to ask about the correct problem-solving process."
"Mr. Wayne, if you hope for him to obtain better results, I think we can start from study habits and patience. This phenonon is not limited to the math subject only for Dick. If you can accompany him and help him manage his restlessness, it should greatly boost his grades."
Bruce looked down at Dick's notebook and furrowed his brow deeply. He could feel himself growing angry because Dick's exercises were indeed very sloppy. It was clear they weren't written properly, sitting at a table. So of the strokes even left thin ink marks that looked like small bugs crawling across the page.
Interestingly, it wasn't an issue of capability, but an attitude problem. It was clear that Dick didn't put in much effort doing his howork last night. He haphazardly scribbled a few calculations, found out they were wrong, and then crossed out all the previous steps, as if afraid soone would discover his many, albeit incorrect, calculations.
This was sending a bad signal, Bruce thought. Dick's teacher was being too indirect. This lack of patience and attempt to cover up mistakes would infuriate any teacher grading this assignnt.
Thus, when Bruce picked up Dick from school that evening, he was sowhat silent.
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