My class has been making mandalas the past few days. It ties in well to both our studies on India (and related motifs from textiles, tiles, etc.) as well as my principal’s desire to have something impressive to post in the administrative building in May. The pressure is on. Frankly, I’m happy that it is, since it reminded me of this activity, the technique of which I’d like to say I invented last year.

Here is what one student ended up with. Directions below.

Here’s what you do:

1. Get a compass and make the biggest circle you can on a blank sheet of paper.
2. Carefully cut the circle out.
3. Fold the circle in half. Cut.
4. Fold that half in half again. Cut.
5. Fold that half (quarter) in half (eighth). Cut.
6. Now you have an eighth of a circle. Hopefully you have been very careful and it is exactly an eighth of a circle. Otherwise, there will be problems.
7. If you have several students, trace lightly around the eighth and make copies.
8. After showing students examples of mandalas and other circular motifs (and explaining that Buddhist monks had to wait seven years before being allowed to create one) let them decorate their eighth of a circle. Be sure that they realize that a straight line will create an octagon in the final product, whereas a curved line will make a circle, etc. Encourage students to take their time and make intricate designs. They will enjoy hearing, “You MADE this? Yourself??”
9. When the students are finished, make eight copies of their work. Bring it back to each student and have them cut out all eight (identical) pie pieces and glue them together. All of this should be done with great care.
10. After all pieces are glued in place, make another couple of copies. Some students may want to color theirs.

I love this activity because it can be done in two 30 minute parts of a class period. You’ll want to give yourself time to make the copies–otherwise it could be done in one period, sans coloring. It is fun to listen to the students plead with you to make the copies early because they can’t wait to see how their work turned out.

There are many ways that this activity can be extended, depending on what you’re studying. It fits in well with counseling groups, world history classes and English writing projects. Really, your imagination is the limit. Enjoy!

So my class is sitting at the table, eating lunch. A couple of the kids are sitting at seats behind the table, talking quietly. Suddenly, a kid named Desmond starts going freakin’ nuts.

Huffing and puffing like a train gathering up speed, Desmond said, “Crab? Who sayin’ crab? You can’t be talkin’ ’bout no crab with me around!”

The two preppy kids who this diatribe was directed at appeared shocked and confused. They had been talking about how good crab salad is. It was lunchtime, after all.

I explained to the crab salad lovers that the word “crab” was considered a diss to Crips. Then I explained to Desmond that the whole world didn’t revolve around his identity as a Crip, and that he could eat lunch by himself if he couldn’t deal with people discussing crab salad.

Desmond had to leave math class because people were “making a big deal” about the crab incident. We talked about how perhaps he was the one who had made it into a big deal. Then I went to call his probation officer to let her know that Desmond was continuing to make his gang affiliation known at every possible opportunity.

On the phone with her, relaying how Desmond was telling me that he wanted to convert to Judaism (no doubt in order to get away with putting a six-pointed Crip star on his notebook later on) and was throwing signs, she told me the funniest story.

When first arrested, Desmond was sitting with two officers in a holding room, watching television with them. A Red Lobster commercial came on. One of the officers remarked, “I sure could do with some of that blue crab.”

Desmond went ballistic.

We’ve got a long way to go.

Sidenote: In my mailbox today was a flyer about child abuse that had a headline reading, “Let’s Paint the Town Blue!” I’m sure several of my students would be happy to take them up on that.

Photo by: LightisBeauty

This is true. He has come to our program every year for the last five years. He does well, and then he returns to his home school where he gets kicked out again and comes back. He keeps saying, “Miss, why can’t I just stay here?”

I really don’t have an answer for him that makes sense.

Edward is not the only student who has been here five years running. Portia is another student who keeps coming back, time and time again. There’s a difference, though. Portia has “issues”. She doesn’t do well at our school or any other school, ever.

It’s easy to understand what the issues are. Two years ago, I called CPS (Child Protective Services) because the child had scars and recent wounds on her hands and arms from being beat with the buckle end of a belt.

Boy was Portia’s mom mad. I spent a lot of time thinking about whether or not I’d done the right thing. As a teacher, I was mandated to call CPS or lose my job. As a human being, I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. I knew, however, that CPS probably wouldn’t do very much to help the situation, much less calm down Portia’s mom.

We never saw the wounds again, but once her mother popped out of her car in the morning during drop-off and yelled, “Don’t you be telling them white people nothing! Not a damn thing!”

I seriously doubt Portia’s mom has forgotten that we are the folks who got her investigated. Portia’s new dysfunctional behavior at school is to say that staff have wronged her in some way and that she’s going to tell her mom. This has happened three times this year, and twice, we’ve been able to work it out.

The third time was an educator’s worst nightmare. Portia had been talking to one of our aides, Miss Summer, waving her hands about as she expressed herself. Her hand struck Miss Summer’s hand, which then clipped Portia under the chin.

There were no injuries, it was just one of those stupid things that happen where no one is usually even remotely fazed. Not this time, though.

The next day, Portia’s mom was up at the office, threatening all sorts of things. She went to the administration office as well. Miss Summer was put on administrative leave until the “investigation” is complete.

Good grief.

Thank goodness another teacher saw the whole thing and can witness that it was an accident. I’m sure Miss Summer’s job will be okay, although her pride won’t be.

Right now, I am feeling an odd sort of survivor’s guilt, since I can’t help but be grateful that Portia isn’t in MY classroom.

Poor Portia, caught between a crazy mama, her own issues and a school she hates.

Photo credit: Daniel James

Fortunately my friend Mex came through pretty quickly. Marching his class around the building, he handed off the two Advil as he made his way around. I’m sure the kids enjoyed the break from the classroom.

I think the Advil came about right after R. stood up from his cubicle, work in hand, loudly announcing, “I don’t give a (big pause here) FFFFFUCK about this,” and proceeded to go off on a rant about a stain on his back pocket.

I called an aide who works well with R, and she came to get him.

“WHY did you just do that?” I asked as we were waiting.

“I wanted to go to Miz A’s room.”

“You could have asked.” I rolled my eyes. Yes, I know that’s not professional.

It turned out to be a hell of a Friday. My class was peeved at me, because for the first time all year, they had not earned the Friday movie. They thought for certain they could talk me into it anyway, and they were wrong.

AND we had a substitute.

During science class with the sub, my new kid Derek decided to tell one of my oldtimers, Tyrese, that he was an Eastside Crip.

“You can’t be no Eastside Crip, you a white boy,” Tyrese laughed.

What followed was an invitation by Derek to visit his neighborhood, where he promised Tyrese that he would put a bullet in his head and leave him lying in a ditch.

I thank God there wasn’t a complete melee.

Tyrese is 6′2″ and about 240, while Derek is 5′9″ and maybe 150. The other kids were beginning to join in the fun when one of our (very large) aides stepped in and settled things down.

You can’t make a terroristic threat (which legally speaking, is what Derek did) in a public alternative school without getting expelled. So I’ll be seeing Derek sometime next year instead. Especially since his conference with our school principal didn’t go so well.

“You are one ugly bitch,” he snarled, practically coming out of his chair. “Your legs are too muscular, and YOU ARE NOT COOL!”

The police arrived shortly thereafter, thank goodness. After getting hit in the neck last year by an angry student, I’m not eager to test my take-down skills again, ever.

We were all pretty much thankful to Tyrese for not killing Derek on the spot with his bare hands, so he was given props for his anger management skills and asked never to say the word “Crips” in class again, regardless of provocation.

After the whole thing was over, the sub told me that on the state teacher examination, it said to, “let students work out disagreements without teacher interference.” Both of the kids had asked why the teacher hadn’t stopped it before things got to that point. I really can’t believe this guy taught in another state or that he would think that answer realistic, especially in an alternative school, where conflict resolution skills are generally lacking.

I managed to NOT stop at the Dairy Queen and eat an entire banana split, like I wanted to. Instead, I got an awesome foot rub from my husband.

I felt sad, though. I could just imagine Derek’s dad saying the same thing to his mom. You can tell when it’s really someone else’s voice coming out of a kid’s mouth.

I hope Derek doesn’t get a girlfriend anytime soon.

Photo by fling93