Series by Gargoyle staff
Posted Friday, March 2, 2007, The OG, features & in depth

THE WORD “UNIQUE” is often tossed around when discussing Uni High — probably too often. But Agora Days is one of those traditions that truly lives up to the description. The four-day hiatus from Uni's regular round of classes consists of more than 100 mini-courses prepared and taught by students, faculty, alumni, parents, and friends of the school. The latest edition of Agora Days took place from Tuesday, Feb. 20, to Friday, Feb. 23. Instead of documenting the annual event solely through photos, as the Gargoyle usually does, our staff embarked on a more ambitious project this year: a series of mini-narratives taking the reader into a variety of Agora classes. Over the course of this four-part series, we hope readers will come away with a sense of the breadth and diversity — not to mention the sheer fun — of Agora Days 2007.

JUST GO WITH THE FLOW

By Deren Kudeki, Gargoyle staff reporter

Course: So? Improvise, second hour

MOST OF THE class stands in a large circle in the North Attic while two or three students run around in the middle.

One of the students from the center comes up to someone standing in the surrounding circle and asks, “Honey, if you love me, won't you please, please smile?” The other student must reply, “Honey, you no I love you, but I just can't smile,” without smiling.

If the person smiles, he or she switches places with the person asking, and must go ask someone else in an attempt to get out of the middle.

Welcome to sophomore Sarah Lake-Rayburn's Agora class called “So? Improvise!” The specific rules or situations change from day to day, but one rule seems to remain constant: Someone takes on the persona of a character or archetype, and those around them have to react appropriately.

Characters range from serial killers to mimes to Valley girls to Borat to amputees, and much much more. Scenes range from cars to parties to game shows to whatever else students can think of.

Most of the games have only a handful of students acting at once, while the rest of the class watches. Participation is usually voluntary, and a new student has to come in before the others can be rotated out. However, many of the students in the class participated little, so to keep things moving, participation was dominated by a couple of students.

“I think overall the class went well,” says Lake-Rayburn. “We ended up having some pretty good times and laughing a lot, which is basically one of the points of improv games. I know that the people in the class who I talk to regularly liked it a lot, and overall, enjoyment is all that matters in my opinion.”

For me, this class was my first of the day, and it turned out to be a fun and creative way to warm up and start my daily Agora schedule.

THE ALL-TOO HUMAN SIDE OF SCIENCE

By Ranny Ma, Gargoyle staff reporter

Course: Bad Science, fifth hour

BEFORE TAKING ARCH Robison's Bad Science class, I had not realized that the scientific world could be so deceiving. I mean science after all is suppose to be based on cold, hard, indisputable facts right?

Arch Robison, the father of freshman Vivian Robison, enjoys learning about bad science, and he told us about the side of science we don't hear about very often.

It's Thursday, and Robison passes out candles to small groups of students. He tells us to make as many observations about the candle as possible.

I take a look and I see that my candle string is black. The tip of the candle is messy. Obviously, this candle must have been used before.

“The candles were used before,” someone at the back of the room declares.

But, after everyone in the class assumed the same thing based on their observations, Robison tells us that the candles were actually new. He had painted the tips with a permanent marker. The tip was purposely roughed up.

The lesson behind this little demonstration is that if one is looking for a particular result, one is going to be able to find evidence to support it. That is crackpot science, fraudulent science.

Every day in that class, people are amazed by how professional scientists can be deceiving or misleading in their experiments.

“It was really cool to learn about all the wacky pseudoscience out there,” said junior Anna Cangellaris.

In another example of crackpot science, Robison debunks the idea of ESP. In our little trial, about one-fifth of the class have ESP because they are able to guess five cards right randomly. Isn't ESP supposed to be something extraordinary that only a few people have?

As I walk out of the class, I realize that science can be deceiving as well. We all think that whatever science says must be true because scientists work with facts, but we miss out on the human elements. After all, people conduct the experiments, and they are capable of lying and cheating as well.

In the scientific world, there is good science and there is bad science. Bad Science revealed the negative side, which is important to understand.

Cheryl Johnson and Paul Kwiat swing out.

(Gargoyle photo) (click to enlarge)

START SWINGING!

By Dana Al-Qadi, Gargoyle senior editor

Course: It Don't Mean A Thing If It Ain't Got That Swing, sixth hour

SWING DANCING IS on the list of things I want to do in my life. I've always wanted to be able to do those spunky spins and hold onto someone's hands as I'm swung around and around.

Needless to say, I was excited about the sixth-period swing-dancing class being offered during Agora Days.

After teaching my Hips Don't Lie belly-dancing class during fifth period, I had to rearrange my mental play list from hip-hop beats and Arabic tunes to the orchestral sounds of swing music.

I quickly took a chug of water, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and got ready to swing like a champion.

The class was taught by suspender-clad and shiny shoe-wearing University of Illinois physics professor Paul Kwiat and his lovely assistant, Cheryl Johnson, who is both the Uni girls JV volleyball coach and a U of I junior studying mathematics.

Swing dancing is a popular form of dance that originated in the 1920s and is based on quick steps and acrobatic movements with a partner.

As for how swing compares with other forms of dance, Kwiat said: “I would say that swing is in some ways easier than many other dances like ballroom and Latin, as there is not such an emphasis on perfect form. The main point is to have fun and make each other laugh.”

It's not as if I'm really graceful on my regular days. I can't quite hop onto bunk beds, and I always seem to trip over things, but that was nothing compared to the clumsiness I experienced the first day of class. I could only look at my feet and repeat the steps over and over. “Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow,” I mumbled to myself.

Luckily for me, I was not the only one experiencing such initial difficulties. One student exasperatedly said, “This just looks so wrong,” as he gazed forlornly down at his awkward stepping.

But grace was soon to come.

The next day, Kwiat split the subbie-dominated class into two groups: “leads” and “follows.”

Leads, the role typically reserved for males, decide what moves happen when, and then steer their partners, the follows, into the spins, dips, and kicks.

As a follow, it was my responsibility to be able to respond to my lead by a mere flick of the wrist or a change in positioning of an arm.

Aside from an isolated incident when I responded incorrectly to my lead, freshman Elizabeth Russell, and wound up kicking her in the shins, the second day saw a vast improvement.

As we experimented with spins, senior Sharajonnie Adams heartily laughed as she gazed down at her subbie partner who was far shorter than her.

“This is not gonna work,” she said. “Switch time!”

About 10 years ago, swing dancing experienced a strong resurgence into popular culture, with thanks to movies such as “Swing Kids,” “Swingers,” and a famous Gap commercial.

“I guess people realized how much fun it is and how versatile,” said Kwiat.

Versatile indeed with an attraction for all ages and all generations. On the last day of class, sophomore Kayla Ginsburg burst in and exclaimed with glee: “I swing-danced with my father last night! It was his birthday and I showed him what I learned! It was so fun!”

I was glad I was not the only one who was raving about this newly acquired skill. I had spent the last few days telling everyone how exciting swing dancing was. I even grabbed my 10-year-old brother one evening and asked him to dance with me.

“Eww, I don't dance with girls,” he said and then ran away.

Besides teaching how to gracefully exit a spin and master the artful kicks of the Charleston, Kwiat's class emphasized the flexibility of swing dancing by exposing us to a wide array of music. While the class in general enjoyed the faster songs more, being able to use the same steps to a song of slower tempo was eye-opening.

As the bell rang on Friday, Ginsburg and I lamented the end of the class but agreed that we were well on our way to becoming swinging sensations.

Linus Project students (minus Ben) demonstrate their

proficiency. (Gargoyle photo) (click to enlarge)

KNITTING FROM A BEGINNER'S PERSPECTIVE

By Ben Hyman, Gargoyle senior editor

Course: The Linus Project, seventh hour

I JOINED THE Linus Project Agora class as a latecomer. I had too many sports classes, and even after a single day, I was sore and exhausted.

I dropped Tae Kwon Do and took up the Linus Project, which is essentially knitting. (Fear not. If I'm ever accosted in a dark alley, I'll simply use my pair of sharp knitting needles for self-defense.)

Now, when I signed up for Agora Days classes a week earlier, I almost put the Linus Project as my first choice because I thought it said “Linux Project.” I read the small print and found that instead of compiling kernels, these guys would be “compiling” blankets! Though I was a bit contemptuous when I signed up, it sounded like just the thing for me to switch into in order to give my weary body a break.

I stepped into Room 106N a proud man, ready to learn how to knit. Little did I know I would leave the room 50 minutes later a poor shadow of my former self, my very spirit crushed.

Let me start from the beginning: Our task was to knit six inches of yarn together; the instructor and sponsor, math teacher Rachel Tyson, would crochet these together later and give one huge blanket to Project Linus, which distributes handmade blankets to children in need. I have a few friends who knit, and they made it look easy, so I figured there wasn't too steep of a learning curve.

The process starts with “casting on,” a method for placing the first row of stitches on a needle. I was almost reduced to tears. Tyson took pity on me and did what I had been trying to do for the last 10 minutes in about five seconds. The first round, two needles and a ball of a yarn against my ego, was over. The needles had won this round.

After that point, however, the process of knitting becomes easier and more repetitive. I simply had to repeat the steps to myself — “Needle 1 through the loop of the stitch on Needle 2 and toward the back, take some yarn from the ball and wrap it around Needle 1, pull Needle 1 down, but through a different loop, and push the resulting loop off Needle 2.” Eventually, all the stitches on Needle 2 would have moved to Needle 1, except we'd have just knitted another row. Then we'd repeat the process, but Needle 1 takes the role of Needle 2.

Yes, I messed up a few times, depending on how liberally you treat the word “few.” Tyson, who's a very capable knitter, was always there to help out, so I wasn't completely floundering. I'd say Round 2 was a tie. Under baseball rules, ties go to the runner, so that round goes to me. I'd completed about a row of stitches when the bell rang, signaling the end of my torture session.

The next day (which was the third day of Agora classes), I came in again, ready to knit. I made a few rows of progress that day (and more than my share of mistakes), but I was afraid I wouldn't finish the requisite six inches our patches had to be.

I'd like to say that I came in my third and final day demoralized and afraid I wouldn't finish, until Tyson came over to me and said, “Ben … go out there with all you've got and win just one for the Knitter,” but that's really not how it happened. Regrettably, I had only three inches of yarn completed, but I think I could have finished if I'd been in the class the first day of Agora Week.

In retrospect, I wouldn't say knitting is now my favorite thing to do, but reaching for those needles now won't be nearly as terrifying as it was the first day. At last, I can finally assuage my age-old nightmare (a nightmare common to the human race?) of a strange man holding a gun to my head and saying, “Knit at least three inches of yarn or your life is forfeit!”

RELATED

— Gargoyle story: Back to Agora Days, Pt. 1

— Photos: Agora Days 2007

— Photos: More Agora Days 2007