Civics - Art of Civil Disobedience Monday 4th Period

[biotic_psychotic]

Jack watched the class come in and waited until they all took their seats. "Alright. Last few classes have been full of the heavy to give you an overview of how things have worked in this country. I've mentioned episodes of civil disobedience in passing but now we're going to start talking about how to use them to get laws changed. The main purpose of civil disobedience is to get attention. Thing is, you want to draw positive attention to your cause and keep the negative sh..stuff.. focused on whatever's opposing you. Not an easy thing to do. That's why most of it focuses on remaining nonviolent even in the face of violence done to you. Not always; as we talked about, sometimes there's a moment when you gotta act. You'll usually know it when it hits. Everyone thinks they'll act, that they'll do the right thing, because in their own minds everyone's the hero of their own story.

Reality is different. Sometimes you choke, sometimes you freeze right up and can't do anything, sometimes you're so scared for your own skin that you don't dare act. None of that's wrong. Most of it you can't help because the human brain's a really weird piece of meat. If you can act when that moment hits then you shouldn't be the one standing there waiting for someone else to move first. Someone has to start it. Instead of wondering who, change the thought to 'might as well be you."

( She pulled up a slide )

"Your assignment today: Pick something you consider an injustice. Pick something from the list and tell me how you'd use it to raise awareness and try to get the public on your side."

Acting 101; Monday, First Period [01/28].

[not_a_bird]

Most of Sweet Dee's week was a little bit of a blur, which wasn't anything unusual, but that did mean that not only had she almost forgotten that she'd assigned homework for her class, she'd almost entirely forgotten she had a class at all. Look, this thing had lasted nearly twice as long as the last time now, she'd lived a pretty rote and predictable life for years now, shaping America's youth never really bothered to factor into it too much, except on rare occassions where it was entirely a bad idea and America's youth would have been much better off without her.

And this was no exception.

She did wake up that morning with very much of an 'oh shit!' moment that involved some flailing and rushing and then a moment to remember that at least she didn't have to deal with traffic or public transportation (shudder), because this island was tiny and it took her more time to drop a morning duece than it did to get to the school. And it took her even less time than that to throw something together because of the assignment she'd forgotten she'd given, so you know that was going to be great.

And hey! Costumes! Perfect. So, barely, by the time class started, the students would arrive to find Sweet Dee sitting at the front of the room in Colonial dress, pretending to be seweing an cheaply made American flag.

"'Allo, loves!" said Sweet Dee, in an accent that was...sure, British, we'll go with that. "It turns out your lovely teacher couldn't be in today; all you've got is me, Betsy Ross, 'ero of the American Revolution and creator of this here flag," she lifted the completely anacronistic prop for emphasis. "I hear tell you all were supposed to research a historical figure, like me!, and think about how you might perform as them like in some magical moving picture. Now thar's some costumes right over there, loves, if you'd like to really bring up your performances a notch, so 'oo wants to begin? Come on up, and we'll see if we can guess 'oo you are! Though I might have a bit 'o trouble guessin', if you happened to pick anyone after..." Yeah, that was Sweet Dee totally taking a long moment to check her phone, "....1836!"

No, no one could accuse Deandra of being any good at this sort of thing. But no one could accuse her of a lack of dedication, either.

Hubris from Revelation: the Social Engineering of Ultimate Truths [Monday, Period 3]

[atreideslioness]

"In religion, a prophet is a person who has been contacted by, or has encountered, the supernatural or the divine, and serves as an intermediary with humanity, delivering this newfound knowledge from the supernatural entity to other humans. The message that the prophet conveys is called a prophecy," Ghanima began. "Claims of prophets have existed in many cultures through history, including Christianity, Judaism, Islam, the Sybilline and Delphic Oracles practices in Ancient Greece, Zoroaster, the Völuspá in Old Norse, and many others. Traditionally, prophets are regarded as having a role in society that promotes change due to their messages and actions."

"And where prophecy walks, the concept of destiny is not far behind. Destiny refers to a predetermined course of events. It may be conceived as a predetermined future, whether in general or of an individual. It is a concept based on the belief that there is a fixed natural order to the universe."

"Some believe that divine guidence may be ascertained by divination. In the belief systems of many cultures, one's destiny can only be learned about through a shaman, babalawo, prophet, sibyl, saint or seer. In the Shang dynasty in China, turtle bones were thrown ages before the I Ching was codified. Arrows were tossed to read destiny, from Thrace to pagan Mecca. In Yoruba traditional religion, the Ifá oracle is consulted via a string of sixteen cowries or oil-palm nuts whose pattern when thrown on to a wooden tray represents the 256 possible combinations whose named "chapters" are recited and verses interpreted for the client by the babalawo. Every society has their own way of fortelling a future, from worm entrails to crystal balls. My empire put its fate in the hands of a family that can walk the veils of time, forward and back, to see what lies beyond, and now they're stuck with the future that the Mahdi chose. Oracles can be a tricky bunch, and you must always assume that they may have a hidden agenda of their own."

Library, Monday

[intotheout]

The thrillers section was chaos, today. Apparently one of the books had been murdered overnight, under extremely suspicious circumstances. Now several police procedurals were fighting over who had jurisdiction over that particular set of shelves, and whether or not the deceased position in the middle of the aisle complicated the matter. A couple plucky middle grade books were lingering on the edges, doing their own investigation, perfectly mirrored by the overenthusiastic chick-lit about older women reinventing their lives post-marriage. Above them all was a solitary, hardbitten true crime novel, its pages fluttering in the breeze from the HVAC unit.

Well, one solitary one on that shelf. There was another two shelves down, and three more across the aisle, each apparently convinced they, alone, could solve the mystery and stop the killer from striking again.

Tip sighed and stepped in, picking up the "body" and smoothing its bent pages. "You all know I can just repair this and put it back on the shelf, right?"

The books ignored her.

It was going to be a long day.

[open!]

Make It Fashion- Tuesday- 1st period

[gobrookeyourself]

"Morning, everybody!" Brooke greeted them brightly once everyone had gotten to the classroom. "Today you're going to want to get your most comfortable fabric, because we're going to make pajama pants. Which sounds easy, but there are some steps to it, and next week you're going to make dressier pants, which will involve things like measurements. With pajama pants, if you screw up, you can wear them to bed and you won't care."

She paused. "Probaby. Unless you really screw them up. Don't do that. Anyway, grab your fabric and the pattern and let's get started!"