American History, Period 2 02/19
The Danger Shop was back to its normal classroom configuration today, and the teachers were at the front, arms folded, possibly looking smug.
Thirty-six hours until Vegas, after all. And if other difficulties were getting to them ... well, they weren't going to think about that in the classroom.
"Our first order of business is an extra credit presentation from Mr. Stephanides, and then, midterm dioramas," Tyler announced, once the students seemed to have quieted. "If you've never made a diorama, they are three-dimensional models, often depicting buildings or historical events. And, this week, you're going to make them for any topic covered this far in class -- or anything you think we should have covered that we skipped over. Here is a handout showing how some fancy ones come together. Yours don't have to be fancy."
"We've got a table with things like bits of cardboard," Algren added, arms crossed over his chest, "empty shoeboxes, glue, safety scissors, and other assorted bric-a-brac for you to toss together. There's probably a plastic buffalo or two if you look hard enough. Please, try to refrain from gluing the popsicle sticks up your nose, as tempting as it might be. It just means paperwork for us if we have to take you to the clinic."
Tyler stopped at that to look at his co-teacher. He wasn't sure they were the demographic to glue popsicle sticks to themselves, but if warnings were being issued .... "And do not be a dumbass and run with scissors, either. We get a week off after this class is over. If you really want to spend some of it in the clinic, wait until after last period Friday."
He made a vague shooing gesture at the students. "Get to it. We're here if you sniff too many markers and pass out."
[OCD on the way up, have at it!]
Thirty-six hours until Vegas, after all. And if other difficulties were getting to them ... well, they weren't going to think about that in the classroom.
"Our first order of business is an extra credit presentation from Mr. Stephanides, and then, midterm dioramas," Tyler announced, once the students seemed to have quieted. "If you've never made a diorama, they are three-dimensional models, often depicting buildings or historical events. And, this week, you're going to make them for any topic covered this far in class -- or anything you think we should have covered that we skipped over. Here is a handout showing how some fancy ones come together. Yours don't have to be fancy."
"We've got a table with things like bits of cardboard," Algren added, arms crossed over his chest, "empty shoeboxes, glue, safety scissors, and other assorted bric-a-brac for you to toss together. There's probably a plastic buffalo or two if you look hard enough. Please, try to refrain from gluing the popsicle sticks up your nose, as tempting as it might be. It just means paperwork for us if we have to take you to the clinic."
Tyler stopped at that to look at his co-teacher. He wasn't sure they were the demographic to glue popsicle sticks to themselves, but if warnings were being issued .... "And do not be a dumbass and run with scissors, either. We get a week off after this class is over. If you really want to spend some of it in the clinic, wait until after last period Friday."
He made a vague shooing gesture at the students. "Get to it. We're here if you sniff too many markers and pass out."
[OCD on the way up, have at it!]