How Green Becomes Wood

"For some, yes, but others could hardly be considered credible, and I could find no evidence to the contrary," she said with a faint smirk. "Unfortunately, it has been proven many times that governments like to alter the truth, hasn't it?"
 
"That's true," Daizi agreed slowly, "but it seems..." Finding her words was a struggle. It seemed unfair to her, but she couldn't determine how to explain that without seeming like she was just emotionally defending her precious baby. The suddenness in which she stopped speaking, and the clear look of thoughtfulness in her face, made it seem like she perhaps just didn't remember the word. Instead, she was trying to articulate how a teenager should be critical of the government, and not accept information blindly, but also that there needs to be some standard of accessible sources.

Dark, though, simply looked to Ciara.
 
Ciara said nothing just yet. She had been silently listening to every word, letting Miss Jones have her time. She still had the paper and appeared to be studying it quietly.

Miss Jones waited a moment, her face trying to remain neutral, but there was a tiny, impatient crimp in the corner of her mouth, and her finger tapped the table very lightly. Finally, she said, "I know it may seem harsh, but I want my students to learn to be able to dig into their sources and check things like, 'have they been altered?' As well as consider the consequences to using sources incorrectly and the harm that can cause."
 
"What were his other sources?" Dark asked impassively. He did understand Miss Jones' pedagogy, but felt a growing pit of dread regarding her application of it.
 
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