Emerging global governance Research Paper Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1000 words

Emerging global governance - Research Paper Example A child who is defined as person of age below 18 years is entitled to healthcare, free education, adequate nutrition, freedom from violence, abuse, exploitation and leisure and recreation (Verhellen, 66). The CRC originated from the Geneva declaration o 1924 which according to Verhellen (64) is the first international human rights instrument dealing with children rights. Before then, various organizations like ILO have made efforts to improve the well-being of children by setting minimum employment age for children to avoid abuse and exploitation. The Geneva declaration was made after the First World War to deal with the plight of children and remove them from deplorable situations. The declaration had a preamble and five aims referred as â€Å"Declaration of the rights of the child.† Under this declaration, a child was entitled to receive relief first in times of distress, protection from any form of exploitation, to be fed and sheltered and to develop normally materially and spiritually. This is the obligation of parents or adults. More declarations concerned with children issues continued to emerge. The declaration was reconfirmed by the League of Nations General Assembly ( UNICEF, 2011). Another Declaration which forms the basis for CRC is the declaration on the rights of the child in 1959. Whereas Geneva declaration focused on social and economic needs, the 1959 declaration focused on families, right to name and nationality and need for love among other issues. It had a preamble and based on 10 principles hence it was more complex than Geneva declaration. It touched on issues such as non-discrimination, name and nationality, education, opportunity for development and enjoyment of social security benefits among others (Verhellen, 66). The 1989 convention was a culmination of various human rights instruments developed over the years and its work began during the 20th

Relationship Between Identity and Employment

Relationship Between Identity and Employment How important is the relationship between a person’s occupation and his or her identity? Within human social contact, many of the interactions we have presume a link between paid occupation and identity. Such a presumption extends not only to the identity of the individual in question but also to the notion of a collective identity: an identity shared by the individual and his or her co-workers. The income generated from our work and the way in which we distribute it – the lifestyle it affords us – all help to shape our identity. However, there are other things which influence our identity; work being only one of them, and so establishing a causal link between occupation and identity can sometimes be difficult. When thinking about our identity within the economic framework of employment we must also consider the notion of representation: our feelings about our occupation and the money and lifestyle it affords us are shaped by the way others see us, and what they have.[1] Our identity is an encompassing concept that influences and is influenced by our relationships with other people. This logic dictates that our identities must be closely tied, in some way, to what we do, and how we interpret what we do in the context of our relationships. There is a close connection between doing and identity and the use of language in the creation of meaning and understanding of this[2]. Piaget[3] and Kagan[4] illustrate how children learn about the world through doing; how the realisation that we can act upon the environment contributes to our sense of self, and the realisation that we are separate from our environment. Children, therefore, come to realise that their actions have social meaning and that their approval as individuals is in direct correlation to what they do: we begin to learn about ourselves as individuals and as members of social groups. As we develop our identity is shaped by our competencies, especially in comparison with others, as well as our s ocial standing and the expectations placed upon us[5]. As adults, our identity becomes goal-oriented and this is largely influenced by society[6]. Occupation is a goal-oriented life activity. Goals are motivators because we view them in terms of the effect of goals met or unmet. Working late, volunteering, taking on extra responsibility allows us the opportunity to imagine praise, promotion, recognition because of our virtue. This imagining shapes our views of our future self and motivates us to further goal-directed action. Motivating images are often called possible selves[7] and they represent what we like might like to become or are afraid of becoming. Possible selves are useful for providing the catalyst to transfer thought to action and as we shape our own identity in a positive manner, our satisfaction increases. Our occupation is the vehicle through which we can develop and express our identities and in order for us to do so within our occupations we must demonstrate to others that we are competent to gain approval and avoid rejection. If we are competent it suggests that we are able to deal effectively with challenges that come our way; the more successful we are at dealing with challenges, the higher our self-confidence. Self-confidence highlights a clear link between our identity and a belief in the things that we are able to do. If our identities are crafted by our occupation and the way in which we perform within that sphere, then a threat to our ability to engage in an occupation becomes almost a threat to our identity. Disabilities often threaten the establishment of an identity based on competence.[8] Redundancy, for example, or unemployment can erode the shared experience of the labour process which can act as the basis for group identity[9] as well as the benchmark that enable us to sustain and articulate our individual identity.[10] For men, unemployment or redundancy can undermine their masculine identity as the traditional male-breadwinner and relegate them to the private rather than the public sphere, and for those used to employment, a lack of occupation can lead to identities becoming more privatised.[11] Turnbull argues that an occupational based identity may offer the individual the highest status and most positive self-image available to them.[12] In this way, those without an occupation, or w hose occupation affords them only the most basic living have identities defined by the notion of falling into a particular class, e.g. working class – here an identity is defined by subsistence. Poverty becomes a marker of status and position and can almost be a deprivation of identity. It is clear that an occupation is central to a sense of who we are and our worth which in turn influences how others see us and how we see other people, and since we spend most of our lives working this provides us with a sense of coherence which helps plays an important role in the shaping of both our individual and collective identity. It is important to note though, that occupation is only one factor amongst many which impacts upon our identity and its relative importance must be viewed alongside that of other social factors. In what ways do social factors shape our identities? It is true to suggest that our identity is made up of individual traits and interpersonal relationships as well as ideas and beliefs we derive from belonging to different groups. Every one of us has a number of different identities open to us and these identities tell us who we are and what each particular identity might involve. Social contexts will generally indicate which identity is most pertinent at any given time. Tajfel argues that there are times when our ‘group’ identity or social identity is more important to us than our personal identity and this decision is particularly dependent upon social factors.[13] Categorisation shapes our identities – when we categorise someone or something we do so in an attempt to understand them and their social environment. So labelling someone as a Muslim, or a Jew, or a football fan or black or white, unemployed or employed allows us to define the kinds of behaviour that are appropriate or even expected of that category. There are a number of different categories which bring with them their own factors which help to shape our identity and the behaviour that is expected of individuals who fall within a particular category. Perhaps some of the most obvious categories are those of race, gender, nationalism and class. When we talk about categorisation by gender, for example, it is often assumed that the role of an individual is defined by their genitalia and that there are social roles for males and social roles for females. This categorisation can be something against which individuals may rebel, but this can also be a group to which they belong tha t brings with it negative aspects, too. For example, a sub-category for women is often that of the victim; such groupings can have a substantial impact upon the identity of the individual. In everyday speech, we often use the word race to denote a group of individuals who have a particular way of talking about themselves and others – and again we often expect of these people particular types of behaviour, some of which can reinforce stereotypes and contribute to prejudice: social factors which can all affect the identity both of the individual themselves and the identity of the group itself.[14] We identify with groups we perceive that we belong to. This has two ramifications: part of what make me ‘me’ is my membership of a particular group, so sometimes there are in-groups and sometimes out-groups (us vs. them) but my identity is also shaped by the fact that I am truly a unique individual. My membership of a particular category or group is just as real to me as the fact that I know that I am unique. A further ramification of this concept is the notion that despite the fact that I am unique, my group self also makes me the same as others within my group. There will be some occasions when I will treat members of my group as being the same as me in some important and pertinent way. For example, I may believe that although I am different to the members of my group, in that I am ‘me’, I am also the same in that I believe that my nation is superior and more deserving of respect than yours (nationalism). Within individual groups Tajfel argues that group members compare themselves with each other, because this comparison allows them to define their group as positive (or negative) and therefore by default, see themselves in a positive (or negative) light. People are generally motivated to see their group as better than other similar groups, but often groups might try to belittle differences between groups in order to be able to view their own group favourably. For example, people from developing countries might regards their country as inferior technologically or economically but might believe that they live a morally much superior way of life. [15] Social factors, therefore, shape our identity in a variety of ways: they influence the way we view ourselves and others, the people we feel that we belong to and identify with, the behaviour we feel is expected of us, and of others and the worth we attribute to other individuals and groups, as well as to ourselves and the groups we feel we belong to. Bibliography Christiansen, C H. Defining Lives: Occupation as Identity: An Essay on Competence, Coherence and the Creation of Meaning. American Journal of Occupational Therapy. 1999 Cooley, C.H. Human nature and the social order. New York. Scribner. 1902 Kagan, J. The Second Year: the emergence of self-awareness. Cambridge, MA. HUP. 1981 MacKenzie, R. Stuart, M. Forde, C. Greenwood, E. Perrett, R. Gardiner, J. All that is Solid? Class Identity and the Maintenance of a Collective Orientation amongst Redundant Steel Workers. Sociology 2006. Piaget. J. The construction of reality in the child. 1954. Basic. New York. Ruble, D. Social Cognition and Social Behaviour: developmental perspectives. New York. CUP. 1983 Tajfel, H. Social identity and intergroup behavior. Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press. 1982 Vygotsky, LS. The instrumental method in Psychology. P134-143. 1981. Woodward, K. ed. An introduction to the Social Sciences: Understanding Social Change: questioning identity: gender, class, nation. Routledge. London. 2002 1 Footnotes [1] Woodward, K. ed. An introduction to the Social Sciences: Understanding Social Change: questioning identity: gender, class, nation. Routledge. London. 2002 [2] Vygotsky, LS. The instrumental method in Psychology. P134-143. 1981. [3] Piaget. J. The construction of reality in the child. 1954. Basic. New York. [4] Kagan, J. The Second Year: the emergence of self-awareness. Cambridge, MA. HUP. 1981 [5] Ruble, D. Social Cognition and Social Behaviour: developmental perspectives. New York. CUP. 1983 [6] Cooley, C.H. Human nature and the social order. New York. Scribner. 1902 [7] Christiansen, C H. Defining Lives: Occupation as Identity: An Essay on Competence, Coherence and the Creation of Meaning. American Journal of Occupational Therapy. 1999 [8] Ibid. [9] MacKenzie, R. Stuart, M. Forde, C. Greenwood, E. Perrett, R. Gardiner, J. All that is Solid? Class Identity and the Maintenance of a Collective Orientation amongst Redundant Steel Workers. Sociology 2006. [10] Ibid. [11] Ibid. [12] Ibid. [13] Tajfel, H. Social identity and intergroup behavior. Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press. 1982 [14] Woodward, K. ed. An introduction to the Social Sciences: Understanding Social Change: questioning identity: gender, class, nation. Routledge. London. 2002. [15] Tajfel, H. Social identity and intergroup behavior. Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press. 1982

Child Abuse and the System :: child protective services, protecting children

Can someone help! I feel alone! Why won’t they hold me? Why don’t they love me? A child that has been neglected, beaten, and unloved are crying out. When child abuse comes up in a conversation or just a thought that passes through when a story about another child being mistreated pops up on the news is a topic that most people have a hard time grasping or even understanding. Child abuse is a physical abuse but also can be an emotional one as well that is caused by a parent, guardian or someone else who is suppose to take care and protect them. Though some parents or care takers don't plan to hurt the child, abuse still can occur. Children of any age can be expose to abuse, child can be brought to dangerous drugs, beaten or even sexual taken advantaged of. A child as young as still in the mother’s womb can be abused. Children are mistreated by their loved one’s all over, but does taking them out of that situation help them? A child that often gets removed from a dangerous situation has to still relive the memories and hurt, when having to be forced to visit with the one’s who hurt them or even by the system itself. Child abuse does not discriminate against any child, it can happen to any age, race, religion, sex, or socioeconomic background. The spirits of these children are shattered, tender hearts are broken, and precious bodies riddled and limp from abuse. Children are broken down by the hatful words, the exposure to drugs, and the phyical handle from parents or others. Children fall into victims of abuse as young as unborns that have to suffer and deal with not being loved and introduced to harmful drugs. Some abused children are not noticed until it is too late. Phyical abuse is easier to notice or piont out such as the broosing from punches, beatens, kicks, bites, burns, or other harmful physical handlings but a child that is being sexually abused or emotional such as doing inappropriate touching or just the harmful sayings and the lack of love may be harder to notice but still happens just as often. These children are left to fend for themselves, learning signs of abuse my help a c hild, may even stop a parent from abusing and damaging a child even farther.

Cultural Experience Essay

A friend of mine is a close friend of an Indian family who lives in the same general area that my friend and I live in. My friend told Mrs. Suayna Patel about my assignment and we were both invited over to dinner at her and Mr. Rajesh Patel’s house for Saturday dinner. My friend and I were warmly invited into their two-story really large tan blockhouse. It is actually located just yards from a hotel they own called â€Å"Passport Inn. † They also occupy the two closest/adjoining rooms to the hotel’s lobby designed as a more modest second home they live out of when there are working as the hotel clerks. Their house was very elegantly decorated in a way with an obvious female touch. It had an incense smell to it, but enjoyable, not over-powering. I was initially invited into what I believe was their living room. The house had quite a few rooms downstairs so I’m not positive it was their living room. I think all of the family’s bedrooms were located on the second floor. Mrs. Suayna Patel invited me to sit on a sofa and then she proceeded to sit down on the other end. She was very soft-spoken and I really didn’t understand everything she said. She introduced me to her husband Rajesh. Rajesh, on the other hand, almost spoke as if he were a native of the U. S. although they both came here in 1997 after his uncle purchased two hotels. Their children, nine-year old son Siva and a twelve-year old daughter, Sanirika were born in the U. S. They pretty much acted like American children but possibly with more manners. I’m only stating this because we were to keenly observe things, but both children were over-weight probably like the majority of their American peers. The only communication barriers I had or I should say we had, was between Suayna and myself. Sometimes we didn’t understand one another but my friend would subtly and courteously intervene and help. They gradually lessened but her husband was quite a bit more extraverted than she was, so he talked to us while Suayna finished cooking the dinner. Suayna was definitely more passive and mild-mannered than the typical American woman and Mr. And Mrs. Patel did assume what we refer to as traditional male and female roles, although my American parents do also. I talked with the children because they were in the room. They had very little Indian accent and were more than willing to answer questions and talk to me. They were the most extraverted and talkative members of their family, possibly partially due to that they were raised here and have no communication differences from Americans. Suayna invited my friend and I to the table and had us sit down first and then the rest of the family sat down with Rajesh being the last one to be seated. I followed their lead at the table because I didn’t want to talk much at the table if it wasn’t something that was acceptable. However, they made me comfortable and just talked like any American family at the dinner table. Suayna served the best Chicken Curry with Rice, Naan bread (Dsouza, 2006), and lentil dish I have ever eaten in my life, by the way. I do think their family was more polite between one another and in talking with me than a typical American family. It could have been because of their company but I don’t think so. This isn’t always untypical of American families but I did notice Rajesh didn’t help out with the making of dinner. He did, however assist in removing the dinnerware and utensils from the table after dinner while neither of them allowed the company to help with the work. Unlike most families of my culture, I guess part of their behavioral language could be that they didn’t seem like had felt a need to occupy every second with words. There was no usage of divergence speaking or emotive language. I feel this is at least partly due to that they didn’t speak at all in a â€Å"self-important† manner whatsoever—even the children, at least while I was there. There was no usage of gestures when talking and there was no creativity or sense of humor in their conversation. They did use relative words when they were telling us why it was easier for them to visit their relatives in India then for their relatives to visit them in America. Overall, their language was cordial and to the point. They spoke pretty succinctly without being verbose. In fact, Mr. And Mrs. Patel spoke slower and less often than the families and friends I typically would eat with. It actually felt pretty peaceful. The children spoke a little more but they never spoke loudly at the table. As far as what I learned about the culture, because this was just one Indian-American family, I can’t make too many generalizations but I do feel they relate to one another in a quieter, probably a more gentle and peaceful manner than a typical American family. Their overall home and family had a more peaceful feel to it. It was a pleasant experience of India. Source Used D’souza, Z. (2006). Veda: the essential Indian cookbook. Baltimore [Md. ]: PublishAmerica.

The Hunters: Moonsong Chapter Thirty-One

Why do they always want to be on top of buildings? Bonnie thought irritably. Inside. Inside is nice. No one falls to their death if they're inside a building. But here we are. Stargazing from the top of the science building while on a date with Zander was romantic. Bonnie would be al for another little nighttime picnic, just the two of them. But partying on a different roof with a bunch of Zander's friends was not romantic, not even slightly. She took a sip of her drink and moved out of the way without even looking as she heard the smack of bodies hitting the ground and the grunts of guys wrestling. After two days of living with Zander, she was beginning to get the names of his friends straight: Tristan and Marcus were the ones rol ing around on the floor with Zander. Jonah, Camden, and Spencer were doing something they cal ed parkour, which mostly seemed to involve running around like idiots and almost fal ing off the roof. Enrique, Jared, Daniel, and Chad were al playing an elaborate drinking game in the corner. There were a few more guys who hung around sometimes, but this was the core group. She liked them, she real y did. Most of the time. They were boisterous, sure, but they were always very nice to her: getting her drinks, immediately handing her their jackets if she was cold, tel ing her that they had no idea what she saw in a loser like Zander, which was clearly their guy way of declaring how much they loved him and that they were happy he had a girlfriend. She looked over at Zander, who was laughing as he held Tristan in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles over the top of Tristan's head. â€Å"Do you give in?† he said, and grunted in surprise as Marcus, whooping joyful y, tackled them both. It would have been easier if there were other girls around that she could get to know. If Marcus (who was very cute in a giant shaggy-haired Sasquatch kind of way) or Spencer (who had the kind of preppy rich-boy elegance that some girls found extremely attractive) had a regular girlfriend, Bonnie would have someone to exchange wry glances with as the guys acted like doofuses. But, even though a girl would occasional y appear clinging to the arm of one of the guys, Bonnie would never see her again after that night. Except for Bonnie, Zander seemed to travel in an almost exclusively masculine world. And, after two days of fol owing the macho parade around town, Bonnie was starting to get sick of it. She missed having girls to talk to. She missed Elena and Meredith, specifical y, even though she was stil mad at them. â€Å"Hey,† she said, making her way over to Zander. â€Å"Want to get out of here for a while?† Zander wrapped his arm around her shoulders. â€Å"Um. Why?† he asked, leaning down to kiss her neck. Bonnie rol ed her eyes. â€Å"It's kind of loud, don't you think? We could go for a nice quiet walk or something.† Zander looked surprised but nodded. â€Å"Sure, whatever you want.† They made their way down the fire escape, fol owed by a few shouts from Zander's friends, who seemed to think he was going on a food run and would shortly return with hot wings and tacos. Once they were a block away from the rooftop party, the noise faded and it was peaceful, except for the distant sound of an occasional car on the roads nearby. Bonnie knew she ought to feel creeped out, walking around at night on campus, but she didn't. Not with Zander's hand in hers. â€Å"This is nice, isn't it?† Bonnie said happily, gazing up at the half moon overhead. â€Å"Yeah,† Zander said, swinging her hand between them. â€Å"You know, I used to go on long walks – runs, real y – with my dad at night. Way out in the country, in the moonlight. I love being outside at night.† â€Å"Aw, that's sweet,† Bonnie said. â€Å"Do you guys stil do that when you're home?† â€Å"No.† Zander hesitated and hunched his shoulders, his hair hanging in his face. Bonnie couldn't read his expression. â€Å"My dad †¦ he died. A while ago.† â€Å"I'm so sorry,† Bonnie said sincerely, squeezing his hand. â€Å"I'm okay,† Zander said, stil staring at his shoes. â€Å"But, y'know, I don't have any brothers or sisters, and the guys have sort of become like a family to me. I know they can be a pain sometimes, but they're real y good guys. And they're important to me.† He glanced at Bonnie out of the corner of his eyes. He looked so apprehensive, Bonnie felt a sharp pang of affection for him. It was sweet that Zander and his friends were so close – that must have been the family stuff he had to deal with the other night. He was loyal, that much she knew. â€Å"Zander,† she said. â€Å"I know they're important to you. I don't want to take you away from your friends, you goof.† She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and kissed him gently on the mouth. â€Å"Maybe just for an hour or two sometimes, but not for long, I promise.† Zander returned the kiss with enthusiasm, and Bonnie tingled al the way down to her toes. Clinging to each other, they made their way to a bench by the side of the path and sat down to kiss some more. Zander just felt so good under her hands, al sleek muscles and smooth skin, and Bonnie ran her hands across his shoulders, along his arms, down his sides. At her touch, Zander suddenly winced. â€Å"What's the matter?† she said, lifting her head away from his. â€Å"Nothing,† said Zander, reaching for her. â€Å"I was just messing around with the guys, you know. They play rough.† â€Å"Let me see,† Bonnie said, grabbing at the hem of his shirt, half concerned and half wanting to just check out Zander's abs. He had turned out to be surprisingly modest, considering they were sharing a room. Wincing again, he sucked his breath in through his teeth as Bonnie lifted his shirt. She gasped. Zander's whole side was covered with ugly black-and-purple bruises. â€Å"Zander,† Bonnie said horrified, â€Å"these look real y bad. You don't get bruises like that just messing around.† They look like you were fighting for your life – or someone else was, she thought, and pushed away the words. â€Å"They're nothing. Don't worry,† Zander said, tugging his shirt back down. He started to wrap his arms around her again, but Bonnie moved away, feeling vaguely sickened. â€Å"I wish you'd tel me what happened,† she said. â€Å"I did,† Zander said comfortingly. â€Å"You know how crazy those guys get.† It was true, she'd never known guys so rowdy. Zander reached for her again, and this time Bonnie moved closer to him, turning her face up for his kiss. As their lips met, she remembered Zander's saying to her, â€Å"You know me. You see me.† She did know him, Bonnie told herself. She could trust Zander. Across the street, Damon stood in the shadow of a tree, watching Bonnie kiss Zander. He had to admit he felt a little pang, seeing her in the arms of someone else. There was something so sweet about Bonnie, and she was brave and intel igent under that cotton-candy exterior. The witchy angle added a little touch of spice to her, too. He'd always thought of her as his. Then again, didn't the little redbird deserve someone of her own? As much as Damon liked her, he didn't love her, he knew that. Seeing the lanky boy's face light up in response to her smile, he thought maybe this one would. After making out for a few more minutes, Bonnie and Zander stood up and wandered, hand in hand, toward what Damon knew was Zander's dorm. Damon trailed them, keeping to the shadows. He huffed out a breath of self-mocking laughter. I'm getting soft in my old age, he thought. Back in the old days he would have eaten Bonnie without a second thought, and here he was worrying about her love life. Stil , it would be nice if the little redhead could be happy. If her boyfriend wasn't a threat. Damon ful y expected the happy couple to disappear into the dorm together. Instead, Zander kissed Bonnie good-bye and watched as she went inside, then headed back out. Damon fol owed him, keeping hidden, as he went back to the party where they'd been before. A few minutes later, Zander came down again, trailed by his pack of noisy boys. Damon twitched in irritation. God save me from college boys, he thought. They were probably going to gorge themselves on greasy bar food. After a couple of days of watching Zander, he was ready to go back to Elena and report that the boy was guilty of nothing more than being uncouth. Instead of heading toward the nearest bar, though, the boys jogged across campus, quick and determined, as if they had an important destination in mind. Reaching the edge of campus, they headed into the woods. Damon gave them a few seconds and then fol owed. He was good at this, he was a predator, a natural hunter, and so it took him a few minutes of listening, of sending his Power out, of final y just racing through the woods, black branches snapping before him, to realize that Zander and his boys were gone. Final y, Damon stopped and leaned against a tree to catch his breath. The woods were silent except for the innocent sound of various woodland creatures going about their business and his own ragged panting. That pack of noisy, obnoxious children had escaped him, disappearing without the slightest trace. He gritted his teeth and tamped down his anger at being evaded, until it was mostly curiosity about how they'd done it. Poor Bonnie, Damon thought as he fastidiously smoothed and adjusted his clothing. One thing was abundantly clear: Zander and his friends weren't entirely human. Stefan twitched. This was al just kind of strange. He was sitting in a velvet-backed chair in a huge underground room, as col ege students roamed around arranging flowers and candles. The room was impressive, Stefan would give them that: cavernous yet elegant. But the little arrangements of flowers seemed chintzy and false somehow, like a stage set in the Vatican. And the black-masked figures lurking in the back of the room, watching, were giving him the jitters. Matt had cal ed him to tel him about some kind of col ege secret society that he'd joined, and that the leader wanted Stefan to join, too. Stefan agreed to meet him and talk about it. He never was much of a joiner, but he liked Matt, and it was something to do. It would take his mind off Elena, he'd thought. Lurking around campus – and it felt like lurking, when he saw Elena, with the way his eyes were irresistibly drawn to her even as he hurried out of sight – he'd watched her. Sometimes she was with Damon. Stefan's fingernails bit into his palms. Consciously relaxing, he turned his attention back to Ethan, who was sitting across a smal table from him. â€Å"The members of the Vitale Society hold a very special place in the world,† he was saying, leaning forward, smiling. â€Å"Only the best of the best can hope to be tapped, and the qualities we look for I think are very Wellexemplified in you, Stefan.† Stefan nodded politely and let his mind drift again. Secret societies were something he actual y knew a little about. Sir Walter Raleigh's School of Night in Elizabethan England wrestled with what was then forbidden knowledge: science and philosophy the church declared out of bounds. Il Carbonari back home in Italy worked to encourage revolt against the government of the various city-states, aiming for a unification of al of Italy. Damon, Stefan knew, toyed with the members of the Hel fire Club in London for a few months in the 1700s, until he got bored with their posturing and childish blasphemy. Al those secret societies, though, had some kind of purpose. Rebel ing against conventional morality, pursuing truth, revolution. Stefan leaned forward. â€Å"Pardon me,† he said politely, â€Å"but what is the point of the Vitale Society?† Ethan paused midspeech to stare at him, then wet his lips. â€Å"Well,† he said slowly, â€Å"the real secrets and rituals of the Society can't be unveiled to outsiders. None of the pledges know our true practices and purposes, not yet. But I can tel you that there are innumerable benefits to being one of us. Travel, adventure, power.† â€Å"None of the pledges know your real purpose?† Stefan asked. His natural inclination to stay away was becoming more resolute. â€Å"Why don't you wear a mask like the others?† Ethan looked surprised. â€Å"I'm the face of the Vitale for the pledges,† he said simply. â€Å"They'l need someone they know to guide them.† Stefan made up his mind. He didn't want to be guided. â€Å"I apologize, Ethan,† he said formal y, â€Å"but I don't think I would be an appropriate candidate for your organization. I appreciate the invitation.† He started to rise. â€Å"Wait,† said Ethan. His eyes were wide and golden and had a hungry, eager expression in them. â€Å"Wait,† he said, licking his lips again. â€Å"We †¦ we have a copy of Pico del a Mirandola's De hominis dignitate.† He stumbled over the words as if he didn't quite know what they were. â€Å"An old one, from Florence, a first edition. You'd get to read it. You could have it if you wanted.† Stefan stiffened. He had studied Mirandola's work on reason and philosophy with enthusiasm back when he was stil alive, when he was a young man preparing for the university. He had a sudden visceral longing to feel the old leather and parchment, see the blocky type from the first days of the printing press, so much more right somehow than the modern computer-set books. There was no way Ethan should have known to offer him that specific book. His eyes narrowed. â€Å"What makes you think I'd want that?† he hissed, leaning across the table toward Ethan. He could feel Power surging through him, fueled by his rage, but Ethan wouldn't meet his eyes. â€Å"I †¦ you told me you like old books, Stefan,† he said, and gave a little false laugh, gazing down at the tabletop. â€Å"I thought you would be interested.† â€Å"No, thank you,† Stefan said, low and angry. He couldn't force Ethan to look him in the eye, not with al these people around, so after a moment, he stood. â€Å"I refuse your offer,† he told Ethan shortly. â€Å"Good-bye.† He walked to the door without looking back, holding himself straight and tal . He glanced at Matt, who was talking to another student, as he reached the door and, when Matt met his eyes, gave him a shrug and a shake of the head, trying to telegraph an apology. Matt nodded, disappointed but not arguing. No one tried to stop Stefan as he left the room. But he had a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was something wrong here. He didn't know enough to dissuade Matt from joining, but he decided to keep tabs on the Vitale Society. As he shut the door behind him, he could sense Ethan watching him.