Series by Gargoyle staff
Posted Saturday, March 3, 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.

TONGUES UNTIED, VOICES SET FREE

By Shivani Khanna, Gargoyle assistant editor

Course: Lesbian and Gay Culture, second hour

WHEN I WALKED into my second period class on the first day of Agora Days, I knew that I was still a little lethargic from track practice that morning. What I didn't realize was that the next 50 minutes would lay bare enshrouded facets of art, music, literature, and film that I had seldom thought about — and my fatigue would be alleviated.

The Lesbian and Gay Culture class, taught by history teacher Billy Vaughn, was a course that looked at how issues of sexual identity are related to artistic production by viewing and discussing pieces of lesbian and gay art.

We watched “The Celluloid Closet,” a documentary about how gays and lesbians are portrayed in movies. We also looked at homosexual poetry and a documentary about the photography of Collier Schorr.

A Langston Hughes poem, “Café: 3 A.M.,” served as a model for the types of themes often found in homosexual art.

“Is this a positive or negative defense for a fairy? What is he saying?” asks Vaughn about the poem.

“I think he's saying that lesbians and gays are all around us because they're also regular people. He asks whether she's a ‘lesbian' or a ‘police lady,' and I think he's saying that she could be both,” answers a student in the class.

The style of the class was similar to the one found in Vaughn's history and philosophy classes: discussion-based, with the conversation propelled by student interest in the topic. Since the students were curious about the topic, we had satisfying discussions each day.

The conversation that ensues eventually leads us to the next poet, Maurice Kenny, whose poem “Winkte” discusses homosexuality in the Native American community.

“We see this in many Native American communities where men could take on the role of females and serve as sexual partners to the warriors,” Vaughn explains.

The students in the class finally begin to understand the meanings of these poems and consequently the culture of lesbians and gays. The atmosphere in the classroom has now changed into a quiet reflection.

The difficulties that lesbians and gays have faced and their hopes and aspirations become much more visible by reading and listening to their work. The importance of being aware of these things had not dawned on me until I took this class.

Afterward, Vaughn said he felt the class was successful; he intends to teach a similar course next year.

“Everyone seemed really interested,” he said. “I wish we had more time because we didn't get to see the clips from ‘Tongues Untied,' and we didn't get to finish all of the poetry in the packet.

“I thought it was important to teach this class this year because in the past students in GSA have taught the class, but this year we don't have much of a GSA, but I still think it's important to have an outlet where people are able to talk about gay and lesbian culture.”

SHAKE THOSE HIPS

By Andrea Park, Gargoyle assistant editor

Course: Hips Don't Lie, fifth hour

THE THRONG OF girls mingled around the desks in the North Attic. A few girls wore colorful and patterned scarves around their waists; Kayla Ginsburg even had a traditional jingle belt she had bought in Berkeley that summer.

“I took Dana's belly dancing class last year,” Ginsburg told the group while she tied the pink, gauzy scarf around her waist. “I loved it so much that I bought this.”

Dana Al-Qadi, the teacher of Hips Don't Lie, was fiddling with her computer trying to get the music to work. She has been belly dancing for six years.

Caroline Brown and Avanti Chajed follow

Dana Al-Qadi's lead in Hips Don't Lie.

(Gargoyle photo) (click to enlarge)

“As a Middle Eastern girl, I'd been exposed to this style of dancing since I was really young and had always been impressed with the muscle control it took and fluidity of the motions. So I told my parents I wanted to try it when I was in seventh grade, and I haven't stopped since then,” Dana explained to me after class.

Just before the bell rang, the music started playing. Instead of a more traditional Arab song, Dana chose to start with Akon's “Belly Dancer.”

The popular song resonated in the attic, and a few girls began to sing the lyrics.

“All right. If you want to come over here, we can start the class maybe,” Dana suggested in her hesitant, kindergarten teacher-like voice.

“I was a little worried that people would not respond well to the music selection and not really appreciate the Arabic, Indian, and Spanish music that they are probably not accustomed to,” Dana later said. “Not only are the languages in this music different, the beats, song structure, and instruments used also differ from English music.”

The flock of freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior girls migrated toward the left wing of attic where Dana's laptop was hooked up to speakers. Ginsburg's jingle belt clinked in rhythm to her steps. A slightly misshapen oval formed around Dana.

A couple of the bolder girls like Erin Hayes and Jessica Stark began dancing to the music's catchy rhythm. The rest, however, awkwardly stood staring at their feet.

“So, as you've already noticed, there are no boys in here. I want all of you guys to feel comfortable to dance in here,” Dana said with a smile.

“This is the basic movement,” she said while she rested her hands on her slender waist, isolated her stomach, and dramatically popped her hip to the left. “You also have to bend your knee to help your hip out.”

Her pupils followed her example. Some could pop almost as crisply as the teacher, but the less-coordinated ones ended up throwing their waists, hips, and knees way far to their left.

“Good!” Dana cheered on enthusiastically. “OK. Now let's try the other side. You'll probably find that you have a dominant hip.”

“Ugh, this is a lot harder than it looks. I probably look pretty dumb,” I said to Shivani Khanna.

“I know! I feel so awkward. I just can't get my hips to do that,” Khanna emphatically said while staring at Dana's fluid hip motion.

For the remainder of “Belly Dancer” the class members practiced popping their hips to one side.

A more traditional Arab song came on next.

“Now, try and slide your hips from side to side,” Dana instructed as she gracefully and fluidly moved her hips from left to right back to left again.

By this point it was obvious who was more comfortable with belly dancing. Larissa Pittenger, Caroline Brown, Michelle Gao, and Ginsburg stood at one end moving their full hips and shaking their buns. At the other end, Stark and Hayes moved their agile, lean bodies. The more unsure girls blushed shyly, some excusing themselves to go to the bathroom or to get a drink of water.

However, with every song, the shyer girls gained more confidence. By the time Shakira's “La Tortura” came on, all the girls were shaking their hips. Whether they were belly dancing or not only Dana could tell, but it was clear that all girls were having fun forgetting they were self-conscious and letting their inner sexy mama out.

“It's so funny. We're all girls so we can let loose and dance,” Jasmine Alvarado commented. “If boys were here, everyone would be standing still.”

All the girls' thankfulness came out in laughter and a few hearty exclamations of “Yeah! Totally.”

The bell rang, the music stopped, and the hips stopped shaking. However, another day of letting loose and belly dancing lay ahead.

THEY GIVE A CLASS ON THIS, DUDE!

By Sarah Pfander, Gargoyle assistant editor

Course: Skateboarding: History and Culture, seventh hour

I WALK INTO Matt Mitchell's class late, again. However, things haven't really started yet. Mitchell is at the board, drawing skateboards with a subfreshman, Adam Joseph. I take my seat as Mitchell laughs about the disorganization of the class.

Teacher Matt Mitchell discusses skateboarding culture.

(Gargoyle photo) (click to enlarge)

“I guess if everyone is here we will start. But this isn't a real class anyways so you all can keep doing what you're doing.”

However, classrooms aren't like the chemical world; they tend toward a state of maximum order, not disorder. Eventually, everyone is ready for class to begin.

The first order of business is Thrasher, the “seminal skateboarding publication,” according to Mitchell. Or rather, “Skate and Destroy,” a collection of Thrasher magazines from the 1980s to present. Mitchell passes around the books.

“Last night I wanted to tab some of the really cool and important pages, but as I looked through, all the pages seemed really cool and important,” he says. “So now, all the pages are officially tabbed. Keep that in mind.”

When I finally get the chance to skim through the pictures, I can't help but agree with Mitchell. I know nothing about skateboarding, but even I can tell how cool the pictures and articles are. My personal favorite is a collection of pictures of injuries that skaters had gotten. There are crooked arms, bloody faces, huge bruises, stapled bones, and even a chopped-off finger.

Meanwhile, discussion wanders. The conversation shifts from the death of “vert” skating, to the loss of style in modern skateboarding, to the connection between the growth of rock and the rise of skateboarding in the '90s.

We watch a Sonic Youth music video, the first music video to center around skating. We try to think about skaters who have influenced our popular culture outside of just skateboarding. However, one thing remains a constant: The passion and excitement of some of the members of the class is intense. Students talk about their experiences in parks, and Mitchell throws in his own anecdotes.

“Me and my friends, we built a ramp in my backyard,” says Mitchell. “It was basically two quarter pipes shoved together, and it wasn't all the great. But the amazing thing was people came from all around to skate that ramp. People I didn't even know would show up at my house and ask to skate my ramp. Now, when I go back to New Jersey, people still recognize me as the kid with the ramp.”

Class ends with a skating movie: a video of a skater on a mega ramp, this huge structure with a sense of beauty to it. The scene is shot from a helicopter as the skater drops in on this near vertical launch that carries him to a massive half pipe. He spends so much time in the air, and 360s aside, the shot is really cool. There is serenity behind the extremeness, an art to the danger. And as the skater flies many feet in to the air, the class gasps, holds its breath, and then relaxes as one.

Annie Liang and ASL students respond to teacher

Jenny Singleton. (Gargoyle photo) (click to enlarge)

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

By Annie Liang, Gargoyle senior editor

Course: American Sign Language, eighth hour

THE ROOM IS completely silent, but don't let that fool you. Animated
conversation flows between Jenny Singleton, mother of subfreshman Ollie Goldbart, and her Agora Day students. The conversation occurs not through words but through expressive body language, facial expressions, and gestures: American Sign Language.

“At first I thought the silence policy was going to be really hard and
obnoxious because it was eighth period during Agora Week, but actually, everyone kept quiet and tried to participate, so I thought it worked really well,” said junior Jamie Weiser.

Weiser attributed the class's success to Singleton's enthusiasm. The only hearing daughter of deaf parents, Singleton not only gave her American Sign Language students an introduction to signing, but she was also able to share with them the culture of what she called the “capital D” Deaf community.

“I was really glad that she incorporated teaching about the deaf community in the class because I have always wondered about some of the things she answered — like, how would deaf people use the phone? And how would deaf parents hear their babies cry?” Weiser said. “I thought she did a great job of expanding on just teaching sign language into teaching about the culture itself.”

On the last day, Singleton brought in an Internet videophone with the plan of offering her class the chance to have a live conversation with her parents, but this was thwarted by technical difficulties. Nevertheless, she felt the class went smoothly and hopes to come back next year.

“I hope that this experience inspired some students to pursue learning the language at some time in the future,” Singleton said. “At the very least, I hope the students gained some understanding about the community and recognize that they do not view their own deafness as a disability.”

RELATED

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

— Gargoyle story: Back to Agora Days, Pt. 2

— Photos: Agora Days 2007

— Photos: More Agora Days 2007