Insider Art

I want to share one of my proudest accomplishments as an art teacher so far, working with inmates as a part of the Insider Art program, which is sponsored by the Indianapolis Art Center. Kat Toebes mentioned the program in conversation a few months back and I knew I had to be a part of it somehow so I asked her if I could help. Luckily she was in need of at least a couple of educators who could provide quality instruction to a small group of young men ages 16 and 17.

Jeff Jefferies has been involved with the program before it became one of the Art Center's community programs. He's been involved since the beginning. Jeff has developed a positive report with the inmates, but he lacks the ability to structure it educationally. That's where Kat, Ethan Culleton and I come into play. Together the four of us have developed lessons into a curriculum that is meant to:

• Inspire students to use their innate creativity in positive ways
• Foster empathy and cooperation through the creative process
• Build art skills, knowledge and visual literacy
• Provide a safe, positive opportunity for self-expression and formation of identity
• Encourage positive community impact and opportunities to give back through art 

http://indplsartcenter.org/outreach/artreach/insider-art/

I had to do a brief training session before I was permitted to enter. The presentation covered a range of important things to know and of course some things that might happen. I wasn't nervous about any violence happening towards me, because they always put a hulking officer in the classroom and Jeff is pretty large himself. When they talked about inmate con games, I started to wonder just how effective they might be. Aside from the training I received, all I knew going in was that some of these inmates are facing long sentences for commiting very serious crimes while others may be released before long. Jail is where they await sentencing so they are very much in a state of limbo. But these particular inmates are still just boys who need someone to remind them that their lives are still valuable. They just need an outlet, which will hopefully keep them out of trouble in the future.

Many of these youths who wind up in jail are victims of their circumstances. Sure it boils down to the poor life choices that they make, but when they grow up detached from their community in an enviornment with no one to encourage them to find a path to success, its no wonder they wind up in these situations. I find the overcrowded prisons and the disproportionate number of male African Americans being incarcerated to be shameful, and I factored this in as I came up with my lesson. Self portraits, set against a back drop of headlines from the Indianapolis Star newspaper. I simply told them to rip out headlines that contained words that struck them in a certain way. Then I showed them how to collage them onto a canvas board. They did these steps on the first day, then using gesso they prepared an area to draw on for the second visit one week later. On the second visit I began by doing a brief lesson about proportions and they drew their self portraits using a mirror.

I will say that walking in day one I was a little intimidated. I mean this is a jail, and I am going in to it voluntarily! Jail, for those who have never been in one, is about what you might expect. The walls are blank, the atmosphere is sterile. There's green metal bars and electronic gates buzzing loudly everywhere you go, and it smells like urine (I don't want to guess why). The inmates walked in single file, wearing their green jumpsuits. They plopped straight down with an attitude that reminded me of my days in middle school. Each one of them was taller than me, except for one who was more wide than he was tall. I swallowed my initial fear and just went straight into it. I didn't care to know and they did not have to share with me why they were in jail, but one spoke out with, "Tryin to get that money!" This made generated a laugh and actually helped to lighten the mood.

These guys weren't scary. I found them to polite and respectful and very pleasant to work with. They gave me an honest shot, which I appreciated. I enjoyed helping them hunt through the newspapers for pertinent words and phrases such as: Second chance, hopeful living and hard road ahead. Come to find out, they don't get to read the paper in jail. Can you believe that? I really enjoyed this project and I could tell that they did as well when they proudly presented their work in the chapel at the jail two weeks later. That was the moment when I realized that my dream of helping others has come true and I'm doing good work (see previous post). Two more sessions of Insider Art this year. I'll teach the same thing twice more, and go from there . . .

"Suspicious"

"Help Me"

"Money Man"

"Legend Boy"

"Role Model"

"The Warrior"

Forensic Art

In the early 2000's I was enrolled as a college student, but I had no direction. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with my future. I knew that the only thing I was (at least somewhat) good at was drawing, and I knew I wanted to help people as a career. So I thought why not put the two things together? I got the idea to become a police sketch artist, but I lacked the training.

In 2003 I signed up for a week long workshop at the Scottsdale Artists School in Arizona. It was put on by a forensic artist named Karen T. Taylor. She literally wrote the book on the subject. She has worked with the F.B.I., America's Most Wanted and various other crime enforcement agencies. Her composites lead to many captures and her facial reconstruction work helped to identify victims whose bodies were badly decomposed. 

Karen had many fascinating stories to tell. Not only did I have fun in Scottsdale, but I learned quite a bit. For example I learned that the job prospects are low. I had no chance without an art degree or a career as a police officer or some other area of criminal justice. One way to work your way up is to volunteer your services. If you get hits, they'll call on you more frequently. This did not sound like a sure way to support myself. Plus most departments don't have an artist on staff,  unless you're talking about New York City. Also computers have mostly supplanted artists who do draw by hand, so I got discouraged and put the idea on the back burner.

I still wanted an art degree however so I transferred to Herron in 2005. The process really began right after the workshop in '03. I took care of some necessary credits at IUPUI to raise my GPA before they would let me in. After my foundation year I was told I had to choose a path. I chose Art Education as a major because Herron's Art Ed program is highly regarded. I believed that it would land me a job right away and I was right. The Art Center hired me in 2009 and I got a full time job in 2010 teaching middle school. The workload was heavy. I stopped drawing faces all the time. I fell in love with sculpture and gradually as I put the emphasis on teaching, my dream of becoming a forensic artist began to fade. Perhaps someday I will revisit the idea of becoming a police sketch artist . . .

Valedictory Address

Some friends and family have asked about the speech I gave to the Art Academy of Cincinnati's graduating class of 2016. They wanted to know what I said because they weren't able to attend, probably because I didn't invite anyone other than my mom. I was going to withhold the contents of this speech just as Hillary Clinton refuses to divulge the transcript of the speech she gave to Goldman Sachs, but I decided to put it on here. First I will share what my day was like leading up to that moment. If you're only interested to read the speech you may want to skip on down . . .

I woke up at five a.m. groggy. I had an overwhelming amount of things to accomplish before noon when I was supposed to leave for Cincinnati, but I was going to try to knock it all out anyway. I pried myself from bed and hit the gym to play basketball as I normally do on Fridays. I figured it would get the blood flowing, which it did, but I had not played in a month so I performed very poorly.

After basketball I went to lay out the instructions for my sub, which went pretty smoothly. Then I had to run some errands, the most important of which was a bill I had to pay. But first I had to pull money from the bank and buy a money order. The bank's system was down company wide, which was most inconvenient. I drove to three different locations and at one point on the circle I got completely rerouted. Finally I slayed that dragon and then I moved on to the CCIC.

This was a first Friday and my Model-T was included as a part of the Herron thesis exhibition in the same space that hosted the winter farmers' market. I did not get to attend the opening, but I wanted it to shine, so I put some finishing touches on the car and rushed to meet my mom. She graciously agreed to drive me since I have been having car trouble. I was late to meet her but would not have been if not for all the set backs. 

We met at my apartment where I changed clothes quickly and then I bought us some coffee. But before hitting the road, I had to drop off another artwork to the Coalyard for another First Friday exhibit. My piece was not warmly received due to political content, despite the fact that the art coordinator had seen it already and she said I could install it. When I explained this to the owner, she reluctantly agreed to allow it, but I felt insulted and I decided not be a part of that showing. 

I had more of my time wasted at the public library in Irvington where I tried to print off my speech. Some guy was printing a 100 page document at the same time and my speech was intermingled with his document. First I had to wait an additional 10-15 minutes for his job to finish printing and then we had to go through the stack one page at a time to find my speech.

All this rushing around made me feel nervous about giving the speech thinking what else could go wrong . . . More did go wrong. I was starving and in a terrible mood. I said, "Mom we gotta find something to eat." We naturally thought Jimmy John's because it's quick, but we got lost trying to find it. When we finally did, I was so hungry that I ate my whole sandwich with chips and also half of hers and then I went back through the line to buy a cookie. 

We rolled into Cincinnati at about a quarter to four without running in to any more trouble. We pulled up out front of the school and I dashed in to pick up my cap and gown which was waiting for me at the front desk. We parked behind the school and began our walk to the Contemporary Art Center where everyone was assembling. As I was tearing open the packaging and throwing on my cap and gown (which did not fit me right) I started receiving texts from people asking where the hell I was at. Luckily I was just down the street.

As soon as I walked up out of breathe, Keith Benjamin immediately grabbed me and I was in a photo with him. Kim Krause explained what I needed to do on stage, and then I was told to jump to the front of the line as the first student behind the professors, because I was the only one graduating with a master's. We began our procession to the Renaissance Hotel a moment later lead by bag pipes. My mom followed off to the side. We were congratulated by strangers on the street filming and taking pictures as we walked by. It was surreal to suddenly go from such a hectic day in Indianapolis to a bag pipe procession in Cincinnati. The sun was beaming, roasting me inside of my black gown. I was so tired that I wanted to find a cardboard pallet on the street to curl up on and sleep for four days. I told myself to absorb this feeling and take a moment to be proud of what I've accomplished. Here's the speech . . .

First I would like to say thank you to my mom and all the parents and family here today. I would like to thank the Art Academy faculty and staff for this tremendous honor and for their hard work each and every day. I would also like to congratulate the graduating artists and my fellow graduating masters students of which there are none. And that means . . you guessed it . . I'm the de-facto valedictorian. Therefore it is my pleasure to say a few words to you today. Interesting side note, I also have the distinction of being the only valedictorian in history to barely maintain a 3.0 grade point average . . and you better believe I'm putting it on my resume. Which reminds me, a piece of advice . . Don't take yourselves too seriously. Learn to laugh at yourselves, because  if you don't there's always plenty of people willing to do it for you.
Yes the arc of my career as an artist and teacher thus far, has certainly been strange and at times kind of funny. But strange is good. We're artists, we like strange. Back in my first year of undergrad at Herron in Indianapolis a strange thing happened that I would like to tell you about . . .
It was holiday break 2006, a few days before Christmas when my dad died of cancer. It took a few weeks to settle his affairs and arrange the funeral service, something that doesn't come with a manual for a 25 year old to read, or any person for that matter.
I had it mostly covered in time to begin a new semester of art school all while balancing a full time job waiting tables. But the hurt of losing my father hadn't yet set in; It didn't have time to. Here's the strange part. It was not the first day back to school but a couple in when the acting student council president approached me totally out of the blue and offered to have me assume her role since she was transferring to a different school. I am still clueless as to why she picked me. Growing up I was never that guy to take on a leadership role, but I decided why not and I accepted. Next thing you know, I was arranging guest artist speakers, field trips and special events. And I started making new friends. My service as class president was dynamic, interesting and fun. And the school acknowledged that I was making an impact. I knew I had found a home there and I knew I was making the right choices in life.
I went on to become a teacher and now I groom high schoolers to become tomorrow's artists. It's my dream job. I want to pinch myself sometimes I feel so lucky, but recently I realized it hasn't been luck. Sure I've caught some breaks and I've had some help along the way, but it's the deliberate choices I made and the humility to accept that I don't know it all that has lead me here today. It's been the dogged effort to help others, and to grow and get better that has transformed me into a know-nothing day dreamer, to a know-nothing day dreamer who's headed somewhere.
So listen to that voice inside your heads telling you to go for it and take the plunge. So the hell what if you're not good at it right away, that's all the more reason to do it. You learn the rules and then you invent them and then why not go ahead break your own rules . . . why? Because you're graduating into a world that doesn't know how bad it needs your creativity and your clarity of vision. Sure you'll get discouraged and wonder if you're doing the right thing every now and then. When that happens just say these words and repeat after me . . I'm an ARTIST . . I'M an artist . . I'M an ARTIST? and keep making. Thank you

They had a guy playing an African drum during the ceremony off to the side of the stage. I didn't really notice him until after I gave the speech when he started beating. I heard applause and drumming as I hurried back to my seat. I'm not comfortable in the lime light. The walk back to my seat was the strangest part for me. A little later I embarassed myself by not knowing where to go as they handed out the diplomas on stage. A lot of people probably saw me back into the girl behind me because I was confused. Oh well, if that was the worst part then I guess I did alright. Afterward, mom and I got a delicious beer at one of my favorite places in Over the Rhine and I took a well deserved nap on the ride home.

Symposium 2016

It was an honor to be included this year at Symposium. I think it is a splendid idea. This is one day in the spring when only the teachers gather at Herron to hold a special day of learning and professional development. If you're an educator reading this, you're probably thinking, "What's the big deal? Our school does this and it's boring and I hate it." I always have hated these types of things in the past too, but the philosophy behind Symposium is different from the usual mundane sit and get format.

Because Herron is so connected to the surrounding neighborhood, outdoor beautification is a big part of this initiative. At past Symposiums Herron faculty members have gone out to do yard work and plant flowers for some of the neighboring houses. Previously teachers collaborated to improve the school by building special projects and fixing things that needed fixing. And of course for each Symposium, breakfast and lunch are provided. Score! I couldn't wait to see what they had in store for us this year . . I wondered would it be bagels? Donuts?? Potato casserole??? They had all the above and Yats for lunch! Whoo-hoo!

With this being Herron High School's ten year anniversary, they decided to go with a theme of looking back. My department chair, Trevor Renwick attended Herron back when it was an art school and he's been one of the only teachers to teach at Herron the entire ten years since it has become a charter school. He is one of a small handful of people who can really speak to what this neighborhood is and what it was. He lead off this Symposium with a presentation of what Herron was like as an art school prior to leaving in 2005.

I'm a Herron grad myself, but I was part of the first crop of artists to attend the new building on the campus at IUPUI all four years. It was a gleaming new building that many people rightfully say has less character. I've heard stories that made me jealous of what the old Herron was like, but Trevor really took us back there. He began by saying that he had approval ahead of time to present the R rated version, but he didn't know our head of school, Janet McNeal would be in attendance. We all laughed and braced ourselves for what we knew would be an entertaining half hour or so . . .

Just to prep you, the once proud Herron Morton neighborhood where I now teach was down right awful for a few decades, especially during the late nineties when Trevor was an art student at Herron. There was grafitti everywhere, on all the walls inside the school and all over the place outside too. Back then it wasn't uncommon to hear somebody got mugged just getting out of their car to go to class. You had to be careful. There were many boarded up houses and vacant properties along 16th and Pennsylvania as well as Talbott Street. The neighborhood was full of drug attics and miscreants, bums and wayward vagrants, and of course art students.

Trevor shared a story of witnessing EMT's responding to a situation where a man had hung himself from a tree behind a house that is still there today, of course that house is no longer a crack den. One night he and some friends were eating pancakes at the IHOP, which is now a CVS, they were barely surprised when authorities arrived to remove a body from a dumpster out back. It was just the way things were, but that is no longer the case. The area is coming back and is currently experiencing a gentrification process. There are quaint shops, dining options and hip coffee joints, I'm sitting in one of those now. Most of the homes have been revived and property values are higher than ever, much higher than anything I can afford.

When the art school pulled out, it left a tremendous gaping hole in the community which bares it's name. That hole would soon be filled thanks in large part to Joanna Taft, our keynote speaker. Joanna and her husband had the idea to turn it into a charter high school, but had no idea how to go about it. With dogged determination, they found the necessary funds to establish Herron and thus spark a revival process in the neighborhood they live in and have loved for more than twenty years. Joanna is still on the board. She hired Janet McNeal who is still our head of school. They shared memories of the early days that inspired me and filled me with pride that I am a part of it now.

In those first few years, Herron had only about a hundred students. No one knew if this thing was going to work. There were trailor pods on the grounds outside because some of the rooms weren't quite up to code yet. Ten years later, we're now a nationally recognized, 4 star school with a 99% graduation rate. We've got more than 900 students and a long waiting list to get in. It really is remarkable to look back on what has been built. The most exciting part is they are planning to do it all over again in a new location in a similar neighborhood that is sorely in need of revival. It's still in the works so I really cannot blog about it. We visited this potential new location after lunch. It was the big finale of the 2016 Symposium. I can't wait to watch this happen all over again!

What would be the lunchroom of the new charter high school. Can't say where at the moment.

Emmaunel Harper speaking at Symposium

Head of School, Janet McNeal signing a stack of diplomas

Damn thing won't let me adjust this picture. But this is me exploring the site of our potential new school. It's top secret, but if you figure it out on your own then good for you . . . 

Jazz Band

Herron has a full jazz band consisting of 16 musicians, and they're pretty good (in my untrained opinion). Mr. Horgeshimer is their leader. He has done a remarkable job with this wiley bunch. All of them are boys, except for one girl who plays the trombone and the French horn (poor thing). Mr. H. had a family matter to attend to so I filled in for him today. I was told ahead of time that jazz band is perhaps the most difficult assignment that a sub could get . . because of the part where I said it's 16 high school students with noise-making devices and I am a substitute who knows practically nothing about music.

The instructions said basicallly to take attendance and then let Chester (not his real name) lead the group. My role on this day was to intervene only when needed. If the players did not want to listen to Chester, I was to make them listen. I laid down the law right from the beginning. I told them, "I don't know anything about music, but I know what good music sounds like, and I want to hear a lot of it being played today. Chester is in charge and you need to do what he says. Mr. H. will throw a fit if he gets a negative report from me." I would say they rose to the challenge.

After these remarks Chester practically shouldered me out of the way. He is a senior and has performed all four years he has gone to school at Herron, so he knows exactly what he's doing and he knows there's no time for fooling around. Chester is an awesome saxophone player, and a very bright student. He does not get a lot of respect from his peers however. The reason being . . well how to put this politely . . Chester is somewhat of a nerd.

It's a tall order for Mr. H, a seasoned instructor, to corral these teens into a decent band, let alone a nerd like Chester, but god bless him, Chester never lost his cool even though his bassist and his drummer openly mocked him and held side conversations most of the time. They rolled their eyes every time he gave directions and basically behaved like condescending jerks. He is fully aware of what his band mates think of him, but never backed down on this day and never seemed intimidated by the moment. Chester just kept leading, "Sammy you were a little flat on the third measure. Tommy don't be late when we hit that second part. You guys aren't playing with any energy." It was the most impressive display of leadership that I've ever seen from a student.

They wrapped with a fifteen minute improptu jam session, that sounded really good. And while I didn't leave a glowing report for the group as a whole, I did laud Chester's performance in a note to Mr. H. I found out later from an anonymous source that (at leaset in her opinion) it was the best behavior that that band had ever shown with a sub in the room.

Chess Club

Of all the surprises in my life and career, becoming a chess club sponsor would have to be near the top. Growing up I never had any interest in games that would stimulate my mind intellectually, unless it were a video game. A friend of mine retaught me how to play a few years back, and I got hooked. We had weekly matches before he moved away. I think I lost all but two of them. I'm still terrible at it, but I try to approcach life as a game of chess, anticipating moves, averting disaster, protecting the king, so on and so forth . . .

In 2014 when I was still teaching middle school I decided why not start a club? In retrospect, I was probably already too bogged down, but we hadn't had a chess club in many years, and I felt (and still feel) that it is an important thing for any school to offer. I didn't do it for the purpose of scoring brownie points with the administration, although I knew it would be something that could not be overlooked come review time. I did it because there were many students who needed a positive extra curricular opportunity and a new way to make friends.

I proposed this idea to my principal and she agreed to fund twenty new chess sets. To my surprise there were dozens of students interested in joining my newly created club. I think we peaked at around forty students out of a population of about 1,000. We gathered in the library on Thursdays after school. A couple other teachers joined not only to fulfill their mandatory service hours, but also because they enjoyed chess and wanted to share that with our students. When I quit that job, I left the club in good hands with them.

Fast forward to the beginning of my time as a teacher at Herron. I was shocked to find out that there was no chess club at this school either. All teachers are required to provide some sort of extra curricular opportunity, but my department chair said that being a long term sub, I wasn't expected to do this, but I did it anyway. I submitted a couple of announcements and at first I thought I was only going to have five or six members. But on the day of our first meeting 17 showed up!

We took the first meeting outside in the front lawn area in front of Russell Hall, known colloquially as the Museum building. The weather was absolutely perfect. Assistant Head of School, Mr. Gilchrist even poked his head out, shook my hand and congratulated me for putting this together so quickly.

Renaissance Man

As I said in my previous post I respect every single one of my students. And I get along with 99% of them. Every now and then one comes along that I actually admire. Desmond (not his actual name) is one such student. He is in his senior year, but he does not exhibit any signs of senioritis. From what I can tell he loves Herron and Herron loves him.

I first met Desmond when I had to step over him in the hallway just outside my classroom door. It was at the end of the school day and the students were exiting the building. Desmond was on the ground by his locker, squeling and gesticulating to amuse his buddies. I didn't know why he was doing this and I still do not know. It was my first week on the job and I wasn't sure if this was a behavior I should address. I looked over at Mr. Renwick who did not seem the slightest bit concerned by it, so I decided to just watch what was going on and pretty soon I was laughing too! Although he was being ridiculous we were laughing with Desmond and not at him. He is the type of kid who would do anything for a laugh one minute, and then talk politics, literature and art with you the next.

In my next post I'll talk about my newly created chess club, which Desmond was the second to sign up for. He wanted to be the first, but he was annoyed to find out that his fellow classmate beat him to the punch. We had our first visit yesterday after school and as Desmond introduced himself he said, "Hello my name is Desmond and if you don't know me, what's wrong with you?" And then he proceeded to explain that the only game of chess he's ever one came dubiously against his six year old brother. He has already risen to the top as a leader in our fledgling club by taking on the reigns of forming a Facebook page so everybody can keep in touch. I learned that he is applying to become an Eagle Scout and he even found time to help with my resume during our first chess club meeting.

I'm filling in as a substitute in other departments whenever I'm not teaching one of my classes. I've become the go to guy around the building for such needs. I'm hoping to prove that I'm worth keeping around. On Wednesday I had to fill in for a theatre teacher, which was a brand new experience for me. On the sub plans it said that two seniors were invited to join the class to do a dramatic reading from Samuel Beckett's famous play "Waiting for Godot". Not easy material for a beginner like myself. They were selected to do the reading because they performed it last year as juniors. Desmond was to be one of the performers. When I saw his name listed I knew it would be good and it was.

They read the dialogue impeccably and with dramatic flair. Afterward they opened it up to the class for a question and answer session. But only one student had any questions for them. It seemed like such a shame to have them come in to do this reading just for one question. Things were just about to dissolve so I took it upon myself to keep the readers in the room for a little longer. I started pelting them with questions. They swatted each one of my questions out of the park. We got right down to the heart of the play and I think everyone gained a better understanding of the theme. I was impressed; apparently Desmond is no class clown.

As I left the theatre classroom to head to my next mission I heard a piano coming from the next classroom over. I peeked in to see Desmond leading a group of his classmates in an impromptu sing-along. He continues to surprise. Desmond's zest for learning and for laugh is an inspiration. He'll go far.

RACLE

I respect each and every one of my students from the highest acheivers to the least cooperative ones, at least that's according to me, some of my students may not agree with that. Okay sure I can be hard on them when they disappoint me, but if anything I'm too soft. Just because I have a relaxed style does not mean I do not have high expectations. At Herron, at least thus far, I have not had trouble motivating the students. A large number of them are driven to succeed, some put forth just enough effort to get by and a very small percentage underperform, I had one of these in my crosshairs the other day.

There was a student who was doing more talking than he was working so I sternly redirected him to get back on task. I had a toothache that day so I probably came off as mean. He did not like my tone and muttered something as I turned to walk away. I pretended not to hear what he said. Teenagers are angsty by nature, and usually when something like that happens it won't go any further unless the student is provoked. I turned the other cheek, no further disruption, no big deal. However he did something the following class period that undermined my authority, which did trigger a response from me.

It was toward the end of the last class period for the day. There was an announcement made to hold all students at the bell, but I did not catch the whole message because I was in the midst of teaching. Apparently there was some kind of emergency and the fire department had to be called out. The administration made the decision to keep the students in their classrooms, because they did not want people flooding the scene, but no reason was given at the time of the announcement. The students did not appreciate being inconvenienced as indicated by their numerous exasperations. No one knew how long it would be. It only ended up being about three minutes.

The young man I spoke of earlier was the most upset about having to remain after the bell. He got up to leave of his own accord and I stopped him. He pointed at the window of the door and practically shouted, "Look! There's other people out in the hall! This was true, and I had no interest in arguing with him about it. I figured I probably got the message wrong and released the students. A few seconds later they were being herded back into the room, but he managed to be the only one to slip through the cracks and he never returned. I looked really bad for sending the students out.

That's what I get for giving him the benefit of doubt. I was pretty upset about this, but I know I have myself to blame mostly for allowing it to happen. After thinking it over, I decided I had to RACLE him. That stands for Recognize the mistake, Address it with the student, Correct the behavior, Log it in the system and Email the parents, but I did not assign a detention. It was my first RACLE and I didn't like having to do it, but I would do it ten times out of ten.

Update: The young man that I RACLE'd also happens to be a baseball player who at that point had missed the handful of practices which I attended as a volunteer coach. I realized this while on the phone with his mother. Rather than inform his coach right away I decided to have a little fun with him . . .

The next game was part of a double header against Howe High School less than a mile from where I live. It happened on a beautiful sunny Saturday and I had that morning off, well at least the first part of it. I walked on down with a couple of bags full of free pastries I got from my side job at Starbucks. I had croissants, coffee cakes, bagels and lemon pound cakes. My plan was to disperse these to the players in between games, which I did. I think he was quite surprised to see the teacher he disrespected by saying, "I don't care!" suddenly coaching first base.

They won the first game of the doubleheader and afterward coach Hughes had a few things to say to them about the win. He had them all gathered around on one knee. After he finished talking to them he let me distribute the treats. I began with the young man who received the RACLE and asked him, "Would you care for one?" He took one, and they won the second game and we haven't had a problem since.

12 Things Every Art Teacher Wants You to Know

12. Clay doesn’t belong in the sinks. The same goes for pencils, paint brushes, paper clips and whatever else happens to be small enough to fit down the drain.

11. We DO want your junk, but I say that with a caveat. I once did a call out email to all teachers for their junk, and the next morning sitting by my classroom door was a grocery sack with an empty plastic water bottle, a frozen dinner tray and some packing peanuts. Folks that’s not going to do much for me when I got a classroom with thirty kids (I mean don’t’ get me wrong it gave me some ideas).

11. An art room should not be silent. To some educators this is going to sound like I’m saying the Earth is flat or Donald Trump would make a fine president. Sure a certain amount of buzz may be noisy, but it also just might be . . . dare I say . . . the sound of engagement. Don’t get me wrong I like quiet just as much as the next teacher and silence is best during some activities, but humans are social animals, and last I checked kids are humans, as well as animals. I will talk more on this subject in an upcoming post.

10. Art is for everyone. Look around you, our society is becoming more and more diverse. The variety of cultures in schools should not be seen as an obstacle, but an opportunity to be inclusive and to become better global citizens. Where do we learn about culture? Well everywhere, but in school it’s mainly art and social studies.

9. We have paint on every item of clothing we own and that’s way we like it to be.

8. We are pleased to take on extra creative projects i.e. displays, bulletin boards, stage designs, etc. We will most likely say yes, because it’s for the good of the school. We just want you to understand that we also have a full load and we’re not sitting on our hands doodling. Speaking of Doodling . . .

7. Doodling keeps certain brains occupied. It doesn’t mean the student has checked out on the lesson. Yes they’re probably bored. For me, doodling gives my hands something to do and frees my ears to listen to what is being said so my brain can harness the information. If I can’t doodle I’ll most likely begin squirming like I have ants in my pants or fall asleep.

6. Art teachers are actual teachers like with degrees and everything!

5. We’re doing a hell of a lot more than finger painting Thanksgiving Turkeys. We are blasted all day every day with visual stimuli. Advertising comes at us from everywhere including our devices. We’re being marketed to constantly. But instead of increasing opportunities for our students’ to access, understand and contribute their own creative content, what do we do? We reduce it in favor of standardized testing and that baffles me. Art is the last bastion for hands on creative learning in most schools, which places a lot of pressure on the art teacher to feel like they have to justify their role and their very subject.

4. Being different is good. So you think you’re a misfit? You think you’re strange? Well strange = different =unique = creative = good. Most of the great achievers throughout history are also people that didn’t “fit in”.

3. There is no right or wrong in art class as I say, only good and better. Sure there are basics to know, but once you’ve got the fundamentals down, i.e. the principles and elements, you’re free to explore your own visual style. A good art teacher will make suggestions in an effort to inspire and encourage their students to make their own intentional choices in the art making process without it becoming the teacher’s work. I love the moment when a student did something that I would not have done and can say to me confidently, “That’s exactly the way I wanted it.”

2. You CAN draw. We art teachers are just as annoyed with hearing the gripes as an English or Algebra teacher would be. You just have a mental barrier to overcome. Either that or you haven’t learned how to see. If you’re trying to draw a thing, don’t get caught up in the detail right away. Break it down into its simplest shapes and lines and build upon that. That’s called working general to specific. It comes naturally to some, others have to learn it, but with practice you can be pretty decent at it. But don’t expect to become the next Rembrandt.

1. It’s great to create. Making something is as much a part of my day as brushing my teeth or scooping up dog poop. I don’t want to think of the emptiness that would ensue if that ability were suddenly taken away from me. I heard somewhere that being an artist is not just a way of life, but an existence. I like to think my existence is just as valid as any other person in any other profession. So let’s not stifle that in our children. If we do that then we’re taking something human away from them.

Procrastination

Coaxing work out of teens is an art in itself. I was prodding a kid today about his productivity or lack thereof. He looked up at me from his laptop and told me he plans to work from home on this one. I said I like your "Can Do LATER" attitude, but I'm from Missouri, the show me state. He got to work after that. With others the technology distraction is an insurmountable force. If I were savvy enough I would breach their firewalls and hack into their systems, seizing total control. Using a web cam I would present myself on the screen laughing maniacally like a sinister Bond villain. I would go in to an evil diatribe using a phony European accent, then the screen would go black. Muahahahaaahaaaah!!! Of course I'm typing this with about 15% of my stack of grading still to complete, and grades due today . . .

Striving for a better life

A couple of months ago I received an email from Strive Indy forwarded by Kat Toebes. Strive Indy is a volunteer organization that provides jobs, training, financial assistance, case management and therapy for ex-felons and adults with criminal histories residing in Marion County. They were looking for life coaches and somehow the email found it's way to me through the ArtReach department. I'm insanely busy, but I decided what the heck? I replied and pretty soon I was contacted by Kirsten Bush to come in, do a brief training session, and fill out some forms. That's how easy it was to become a life coach.

Kirsten started off the training session by showing me this interesting 60 Minutes story about juvenile delinquent elephants released from wild life parks in Africa (I posted a link to it below). These were adolescent elephants who grew up in human care without role models. Once released, these elephants created mayhem. They began attacking and killing white rhinos just for the fun of it. Federal wildlife officals came up with a number of ways to correct this and even literally brought in mature elephants to show them the right and wrong way to behave. Sadly, some of the elephants could not change the error of their ways and had to be put down.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_MeXIF0Ia8o

This lead us into a discussion about how a person can easily go off track and not have any idea how to fix it on their own. Sometimes all you need is someone to talk to about life, and that's what I intend to be for whoever I'm matched with. Once you receive a match you just basically get together once in a while to talk. You could get coffee, shoot hoops or play chess or something. The time commitment is very small. More people should be doing this . . .

It was about two weeks before I received a phone call from Kirsten saying she had a potential match for me. I came in and we met face to face. I would never divulge any information about my match's private life of course, but suffice to say he's a good guy who's had a lot of hard luck. Sure some of that is his own doing, but he acknowleges that. He's clean and sober and he really wants to make the necessary changes. He told me, "It's the fourth quarter and I've got five fouls." As he was talking about his troubles I couldn't help thinking to myself what the hell am I doing here? I'm the one who could use the life coach! But I just sat and listened to his story. It was as if he got to remove a lead vest for about an hour. 

As the meeting came to a close he told Kirsten that he approved of me and would see me again. If only my dating life went this smoothly! He said he'd be in touch, and I gave him a hug. He was pleasantly surprised by this gesture. I think it showed him that he's not alone and that there is somebody who truly cares. If I should ever leave the teaching profession I think I would explore the idea of making a career in counseling. I was filled with a positive feeling, which continued throughout the day and it inspired me to write this poem . . .

I Care

Out across the vast open space in the distance

You take a look at your wretched life and it's twisted

And you kick yourself in the butt

And you try to keep up

And you tried to find help

But you haven't had luck

I know man, I've been dealt the same bad hand

And I can honestly say, I understand

I understand a whole lot and I care

You may not think there's anyone for you, but I'm there.

Week 2 wrap up

I had an eventful end to an eventful second week. First I was approached by the student editor of the school newspaper to be interviewed about something I love to talk about, my career, my art and how I got to where I am, but I think it was a ploy, it seemed like she has a crush on me. She recorded my responses with her iphone and there was a funny moment when I stopped talking and instead of a new question I noticed her staring up at me dreamily. I have been trying so hard to be a dorky teacher to avoid such a thing, but apparently not hard enough.

I wanted to start my weekend right away, but after the interview I had to first try on my gown for the commencement ceremony in May. I hold a masters degree and therefore more student loan debt, so I get the kind that has dangly extensions coming off the sleeves! In all seriousness, I am honored to be invited to the event, which I think will be held at Clowes Hall.

Considering I'm an interim teacher whose only been a part of the staff for a few weeks, they could have easily overlooked me, but they didn't. I'm excited for the seniors who are graduating and going on to college. It takes me back to that time in my life when I stepped out into the world alone for the first time. I was almost overwhelmed by all the new possibilities. Life can still be overwhelming sometimes, but in the years since I've learned to embrace that feeling.

The final item of note from the week was an email I received from Mr. Gilchrist just before I left for the weekend. The subject of the email said breif observation. It was in regards to the 15 minutes he sat in on my class earlier in the week. He wants to sit down with me and Mr. Harris to, "See how things are going." I don't think there is any reason for this foreboding sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, but nevertheless I'm sure I will fret about it all weekend . . .

The Indianapolis Art Center

I graduated from Herron School of Art in 2009 with a bachelor's in Art Education. I had no luck at first in the job search. Each interview I went to was just more disappointment. I was caught in that trap that many college graduates have to overcome . . having an education, but no experience yet. You might be asking, "But isn't there a teacher shortage?" Yes there certainly is now, but this is before the situation really got ugly. All I knew was that I love teaching art and I wanted a job where I could grow professionally. I tried very hard for an opportunity at the Indianapolis Art Center.

I had two interviews there, but I did not get either job. I was beginning to get discouraged, but they offered me a job teaching in their ArtReach department. This is the arm of the Art Center that addresses education and community outreach. It was good work, but not enough to pay the bills on. I taught various multi-cultural lessons in public libraries throughout the city. Sometimes I would fill in for other instructors if they had to miss one of their workshops. Our audience range for these workshops is kindergarten to full grown adults.

The workshops were fun, creative and educational. I thought of myself as a hired hitman, going out in to the community with large totes full of art supplies. I ended up teaching a ton of lessons that did not necessarily fit within my skill set, but if something came along I took it, because I couldn't turn down the money or the continued employment that I knew would look good to future employers. ArtReach is where I honed my craft and developed my special power of fake it 'til you make it. There is still so much I don't know, but now there is hardly anything that intimidates me.

Any time there was a festival or event going on in the public and the Art Center needed a person with enthusiasm I would be one of the people they thought of, but when I got hired to teach at Chapel Hill in Wayne full time, I had to step aside from my work with the Art Center. From time to time I would still help out with something. I was offered a position to teach in the summer ArtReach program just to keep me on board. It's basically arts enrichment. We're contracted to provide this as a service for churches, schools and community centers. The last thing a teacher wants to think about is using their summers to teach, but it was enjoyable and gave me some extra money.

Michelle and Kat are my Art Center bosses. They put me back to work when I returned from my master's program in Cincinnati this past fall. I had left Chapel Hill and wasn't sure what to do with myself. I got involved again with ArtReach, but it was clear that that was no longer what I wanted to do. It kept me going for a little while, and working in my profession, but I needed more. I found out about the Insider Art program, working with juveniles being tried as adults in Marion County jail. That was always a dream of mine, but it was only a handful of teaching dates. I signed up to become a life coach, but that's on a voluntary basis! I was really hurting for full time employment. Kat was the one who tipped me off about Herron. She heard about the opening, because it's where her son goes to school, who is a phenomenal kid. I submitted my resume on the finest resume paper the very next day and the rest is history.

I couldn't say no, when again I was offered some pop up workshops to teach. These take place at the Art Center and the participants are usually adults. They're convenient, creative and affordable. It is much easier than signing up to take a twelve week class. These pop ups are only a couple of hours long, and the participants walk away with a piece of art. This is an ideal way for a person to test whether they want to take more classes at the Art Center. Friday was the first one I have taught, Linocuts. This is an area that I am really good at. I had seven adults in attendance, all eager to learn and make something beautiful. The result was amazing. We went over on our time, because everyone was so hard at work. As we were cleaning up, I received some compliments on my presentation and the workshop overall. The participants were really satisfied with the outcome. As I was packing up to leave it occurred to me that I would not be half the teacher I am right now without the Indianapolis Art Center.

The case of the stolen laptop

Since I was hired to teach at Herron, I've been hauling not one, not two, but three bags around all the time. There's my book bag which contains unit binders as well as my lunch box, thermos and other loose items. A gym bag full of clothes, and lastly a messenger style bag that holds my journal, day planner, library book and the laptop I was issued by the school.

Every day has been a long one. I've been going in to school early for office hours and meetings, whether I am required to be there or not. I've been hitting the gym either before I go in or in the morning before I teach. Once school let's out I go straight to one of my three part time jobs. Somehow in the midst of all this I have also managed to find a way to take care of my poor dog.

With all of that being said, I hope you can understand that when I arrived to my mother's house on Wednesday night at around ten, weighted with all of these belongings and a hamper full of laundry, I just could not seem to muster the strength to extend one finger to lock my Jeep. I almost never leave my car unlocked. I spent the night there and when I tried to leave the next morning I noticed that all of the contents of my gym bag had been dumped out and someone had rifled through the glove box. The theif made off with the laptop, but nothing else. Don't ask me why it was in my gym bag instead of the messenger bag and don't ask me why I left it in there. My sister also lost a circular saw from her car.

The crook could have gotten several other things that would have been much harder to replace: my checkbook, baseball glove, and an external hard drive that only contains every document and powerpoint presentation that I've ever created during my teaching career, but all of that has no street value and so he left it. It was more inconvenient than anything that I had to go back into the technology office, explain what happened, and then wait to be reissued a new one after only one week with the last one. Plus I was late to school because I had to pack all of my stuff back into my bag.

Southport is where my mom and sister and family live. It is considered to be a decent community, however I was not surprised that I got hit. There have been similar incidents in the past, and it's still Indianapolis. Luckily Mrs. Browning had another laptop to give me, and she said that it would just be written off, because there's nothing we can do about it. We're not talking about a Macbook. These are outdated machines, but they get the job done. I was still concerned however that I would be charged for my negligience, but I was relieved when I found out that I would not be. At any rate, I was planning to file a report once I got the serial number from Mrs. Browning, but I didn't get the chance to do that.

As I was leaving practice I noticed that I had received a Facebook message from a lady I did not recognize. The message said, "Did you lose a laptop?" I replied, "Yes . . did you find it?" It turns out that she lives directly behind my family in a different sub division and she was also robbed. Apparently the thief had my laptop with him when he broke in to her car and forgot it! He got about $25 from her. She got my name from the login screen and said in thirty years of living in that neighborhood, she had never had a problem with crime. I went down to the police station to claim the laptop later that night!

I shared this story with the entire staff at our Friday professional development meeting and they were amused. I returned the second laptop to Mrs. Browning and told her it wouldn't happen again. I say that in the future I will not forget to take valuables out of my car, but I probably will. Over the years I've had my car broke in to numerous times. I am thankful that this time, thanks to dumb luck, everything worked out okay.

The Acheans

A few months back, I got the news from Mr. Kendall, the athletic director at CHC that I would not be asked back to coach the 2016 baseball season with my best friend, Drew Hansgen. A new rule mandates that only teachers on staff shall be allowed to coach for Chapel Hill. I really wanted to see that group of kids go off to the high school level with a winning record and tons of great memories. I coached four seasons and I really wanted to make it five. The decision to release Coach Hansgen and I effectively drove the final nail into my service to Wayne Township, but I appreciate that Kendall broke the news to me early.

I was certainly disappointed, but I looked at it as a good thing. It would have been extremely difficult for me to get off work in time to hustle across town every day of the week to hold a two hour practice. Many of these practices end up getting canceled on short notice due to inclimate weather. The practice and competition schedule was always hectic, and I won't miss that. Plus the schedule, for some strange reason, was always laden with road games. Sometimes it would be nearly nine o'clock before I got home from our games. My dog would have to suffer long days without being let out to pee. Not being in the building on a daily basis as a teacher, I would have been out of the loop. There would have been less interaction between myself and other staff members so I would not have been as aware of the litany of discipline issues regarding my players as I was in the past. And that was something that consumed a great deal of my time, which is another thing I won't miss.

Here's some good news, Herron has a baseball team! If you are familiar with our campus, then you are probably wondering how this can be. Our three buildings and parking lot occupy approximately half of a city block. It is about as small as it can get. We're surrounded by homes, businesses and apartment buildings so there are no practice fields for our athletic programs to take advantage of. One thing I like about Herron is this is not seen as an obstacle. Our players trot out to MLK park every day, which is about a quarter of a mile away, and home games are played at Manual High School, which is located two miles south. We also have a track team, and a tennis team among others. The track team has to run down to Crispus Attucks High School for their practices and meets.

All I had to do was inquire with Mr. Hughes, the head coach and meet with Miss Wiggins, the AD on Thursday, and I was cleared to help coach The Acheans. They are two weeks in to their season, but have not played a game yet. As I said earlier, Herron doesn't see obstacles, but on the day of my first practice I recognized a couple. We had five players absent for a choir performance. A handful of the players have never played baseball before. And there is no diamond at MLK park, just an enormous field. I took some ground balls with the players, and it was pretty choppy. It was also chilly out, but despite the setbacks there were no complaints, as a matter of fact I would say that the players' demeanor was down right rosy.

I was impressed with Mr. Hughes' coaching style and I like his assistant, Joe Esposito from Toledo (I'm not making that up). After the outfielders got done shagging fly balls, one player remarked that they had caught more than ten for the first time. The infield was hardly any better. I took the liberty to give special instruction to the young man who will be playing second base. He is very much a beginner, but eager to learn, which he did and fast! I saw lots of improvement out of him in just one practice.

We ended with a run down drill that was absolutely hilarious! In a run down the objective is to get a runner caught between bases and tag him out in the least number of throws or at least run him back to his original base without letting him score. There is always one or two guys that want to run for the entire drill. This team is no different. The team captain volunteered himself to run back and forth while the fielders tried to figure it out. This poor kid got blasted in the back twice by errant throws. Luckily he was uninjured, but I almost hurt myself laughing so hard. These kids are surely going to need lots of work on that part of the game as well as others. Hopefully I can help them with that.

First outdoor crit

Time is really moving fast as it always seems to. The current unit is coming to a close and spring break is a week away. Some how, some way I got through my first round of critiques without incident. We didn't have any arguments and not a tear was shed. There were only one or two students that did not get a chance to hear feedback because we ran out of time. Talking about art in a positive way is a specialty of mine and that's what I expected from them. Their performance was exemplory, so much so that critiques ran long. I think it is a sign of a good critique when the entire time is filled. I wanted contributions from every student, which did not happen. The quiet ones were not disruptive in any way; they just didn't feel like talking. That does not mean they weren't listening and getting something from it. I will generate ideas for activities on how to enhance participation in the future.

Wednesday was not the first, but one of the first days of splendid weather we have had so I decided to take a gamble by bringing one of my classes outside for their critique. I just could not help myself. It was as if I had some unseen force dragging me out of the building. We lined the paintings up on a short concrete wall that runs along the sidewalk on Talbott just yards from 16th Street. It was surreal to be conducting a class on the street corner where I used to live and have walked my dog so many times. The students as you might expect were beginning to get a little bit squirrely and distracted. I had to seperate a couple of them, but overall it went well. They knew if it did not go well that would cancel any future outdoor excursions. 

As we were renentering the building a stranger on a bike who had been observing our critique, stopped one of my students (one of my former students from CHC). He wanted to give her kudos on her still life painting. The rest of my class was already walking in the door ahead of us and there was about two minutes before the last bell, so I had to cut him off. I did so without being rude. He was pleasant, but we did not know him and safety is my number one priority. This reminded me that teaching in an urban setting is different from teaching in a suburban one. Our campus is secure, but being downtown, there are strange people out and about every day and that is something to be aware of.

Pi Day and saving puppies

Things are really rolling right now and it's hard to keep up with all that is going on in my life . . . Benchmark exams are upon us. That will happen next week, but first we have to wrap up our current project, and then I have to grade a stack of folders. Half of the work in these folders are lessons and exercises that were completed before my arrival, so it will be a bit tricky to grade. I will be soft as usual. After benchmarks its straight in to spring break, which I don't feel that I will have legitmately earned, having only been employed at Herron for a few weeks, but time off is always welcome.

I am slowly getting access to the tools that I need to be successful. I have an I.D., a laptop, an email address, keys and now I even have a teacher's assistant!  My T.A. has already proven herself to be indispensible. She did a lot for me during my morning office hour today. I sent her to Russell for a stack of handouts, she numbered the tables and wiped the countertops, she answered the phone which was ringing off the hook and she organized the totes, which contain the brushes and paints the students have been using on this project.

These brushes are brand new, but already look haggard. I can't be completely sure about this, but a student said the situation has worsened over the past week or so (on my watch). This is of course unacceptable, but they have been using them everday, so some of that wear and tear is natural. You wouldn't think that I would have to be hovering over their shoulders making sure they clean the brushes properly, but it is a now a situation that calls for my immediate attention. I told the students before that each time someone does not rinse out a brush thouroughly, somewhere in the world a person kicks a puppy, so don't let a puppy get kicked . . . apparently they don't care for small, cute animals, because puppies have been getting kicked all over the place.

Yesterday during 4th block a nerve-racking thing happened, the two assistants to the head of school, Mr. Gilchrist and Mr. Harris paid us an unexpected visit. I figure they want to keep me on my toes and see how I perform. Thankfully, I happened to be in the midst of a good teaching moment at the time . . at least in my own assessment. You never can tell what is going through the administrator's minds when they're visiting, especially Gilchrist who has a really good poker face. I mean the dude should be in Vegas. Whenever I have a principal drop by I just keep doing what I do. It's like the secret shopper program back when I was waiting tables. If you're always doing things right, you've nothing to worry about.

Yesterday was Pi Day (3/14). I was in the midst of showing an interesting powerpoint about Pi, when Gilchrist and Harris popped in. It wasn't part of Miss Hundt's itenerary, but I happened to have it stored on my hard drive, which I had with me in my bag. I created it at CHC on Pi Day last year as an interdisciplinary time killer. Consilience is the unity of knowledge, and I feel that this presentation is a perfect way to get that message across to my students. Math and Science actually do relate to Visual Art, as a matter of fact, all fields of study blend with eachother. I wish we wouldn't create divisions in education like we do.

I'll do my best to explain what the students saw, but I probably can't do it any justice. Martin Kryzinski is a scientist working in the field of bioinformatics, but he also uses software to illustrate the visual connection of scientfic and mathematical phenomena, such as Pi. He has a series of digital artworks that show Pi in different ways. You've probably seen some of these going around the internet on March 14th. Kryzinski will create a sequence or a formula of some kind and use that to plot the data, which of course we know is infinite. Each year he creates a new visualization of Pi using a new method (see below).

I read the explanation that went along with each of these and several more, but it didn't make much sense to any of us, which is okay. I have a saying, To be great, you don't have to know everything, but you have to be open to everything. Our conversation shifted to gravitational waves, black holes and the science fiction movie Interstellar, and this was all while the students were painting. It was awesome! I hope Gilchrist and Harris liked what they saw.

A great teacher illustrated

This NPR link relates to a previous post. Courtesy of my former sculpture professor in grad school, Mr. Keith Benjamin.
http://www.npr.org/2016/03/09/469097318/a-great-teacher-illustrated

The toothpick challenge

Friday morning, I was talking with the lady who coordinates the substitute teachers at the weekly professional development meeting.  She asked me on Thursday if I would be interested in earning extra money to be a sub on mornings when I'm not teaching. I of course agreed, and it wouldn't be long before I was subbing for the first time in my career. Mrs. Haulton who teaches 3D and ceramics overheard our conversation and seized the opportunity to have me sub for two of her classes that day. She looked flush indeed so I agreed to help her out. She took care of the necessary arrangements in a hurry and suddenly I found myself in her room with about five minutes before the students' arrival. I would be handling two critiques for her intro to 3D classes. I teach the same class and we have a critique coming up too, so I figured it would be good practice for me, plus I could use the money. I figure when it comes time to consider me for a full time position, the administration should certainly take note of this effort to help the school.

I was very impressed with the outcome of many of the toothpick sculptures. The hard work was evident, and we all enjoyed having the opportunity to celebrate this achievement. The feedback that the students shared was constructive and at times pretty insightful. I must say the critique was just about as successful as any that I have been a part of at the college level. My role was facilitator. I wanted the students to do the majority of the talking, but I of course made comments about each project. I was slightly concerned that the students would be unwilling to speak up, but thankfully that did not prove to be the case. Despite the fact that these students are not familiar with me they warmed up quickly. My encouragement, and supportive style put them at ease. They knew that this would not be a situation where they would be embarrassed. Even the one student whose project was still in several pieces got something from the critique.

My 3D class block three took place over in the main building directly after Mrs. Haulton's classes. I barely made it on time going against the flow of traffic during passing period. My class is a tad behind and I told them that there would not be enough time on Friday to get through all of them, so no critique. A large handful of students breathed a sigh of relief, because they were far from finishing. However, there were many students whose projects were ready for critique. What would I have them do for an entire block? I came up with the perfect solution. Thinking of toothpicks reminded me of self proclaimed toothpick engineer, Stan Munro. I used to show this Youtube clip of him talking about his work to my middle school students. Stan worked for a museum in Syracuse, NY erecting skyscrapers and world monuments from toothpicks, dozens of them combined into one marvelous city, and all to scale. It all started for Stan in high school, when his teacher challenged him to build a structure form toothpicks that could support the weight of several textbooks. The result held the weight of his desk.

I divided the students that were finished with their projects as well as their written self reflection handouts in to five groups of four. Each student counted out 50 toothpicks. The guidelines were that they could combine their toothpicks to collaborate on a project using only toothpicks and hot glue, but they did not have to use all 200. I wanted the textbooks to be elevated at least a half inch off their desks. To the group whose project could support the most weight without collapsing, I told them I would buy them a pizza. This spurred the stragglers to get caught up and finished with their projects so they could join in, and I could work with them one on one while the groups were occupied with the challenge so it was productive and fun.

The first group had the advantage from the beginning, because they were comprised of four go-getters that finished their work efficiently and on time. They engineered an outstanding support structure, and lo and behold they won. They each made about a dozen identical pyramidal units and then combined them to make a solid base. They were very systematic and organized in their approach. The fourth group did not work as well together. Their group was comprised of four students whose projects were completed, but without as much care or attention to detail. It appeared that only two of the students in this group actually contributed to the outcome. The other two just made a mess. The result was very sloppy. They lined about a dozen toothpicks side by side and sandwiched it with gobs of hot glue, and they continued to stack more layers until it was a half inch high. It looked like an artificial s'more. I could not fault them though, they technically followed the rules, and their creation held the same weight as group one. I will award the pizza to group one and think of something else to do for the other group.

As for group two, they made what looked like six-sided stars. They stacked their toothpicks and applyied hot glue in the corners until they achieved the necessary height, but there was a flaw in this design. The space between the layers compressed under the weight, and the textbooks were no longer elevated high enough to qualify, so they lost, but I applauded their effort. Group three created four support beams from bundled toothpicks, but they wasted too much time settling on a design, and had to rush to the finish line. Their collaboration was the only one that collapsed. Group five came up with a design similar to that of group one, so they changed it up mid way through, and they also had the misfortune of being the group with the least amount of time to work on it. All of the groups that lost were good sports about it.