Geometry assignment; April 21

We went over our quiz from last week before getting started on today's lesson.  We continued to work on finding the areas of sectors and the lengths of arcs today.  We focused on using the areas of sectors to find the radius values of circles and various other areas inside of a circle and an inscribed triangle.  The students got started on their assignment at the end of the period.


Assignment:  Section 11-6 worksheet   #1-12 all

Algebra 10-12 assignment; May 2

We went over our homework and reviewed the different topics that we studied this week before taking our quiz.  The quiz was over simplifying, multiplying, and dividing radicals.  After the quiz was over, the students then got started working on their assignment for Monday.


Assignment:  simplifying radicals worksheet #2

Algebra 10-12 assignment; May 14

We continued working with the quadratic formula today, going over how to approximate values for the roots and to use the formula when the not all the values for a, b, and c are known.  We did three problems together and then worked the rest of the period completing the homework assignment.


Assignment:  Quadratic formula worksheet #2

Remembering Frederick Manfred--1914-1994 (i)

It's now been twenty years since Frederick Manfred died, a "force of nature," some called him, a celebrated American novelist from Siouxland, who never really left the region of his birth.  In his honor, I'm reprinting an old essay of mine that outlines his influences on me. He was a friend.

I met Frederick Manfred in a bookstore in Sheboygan, Wisconsin, in late November of 1966. I wasn’t looking for him, but I stumbled across his name, a name I wouldn’t have recognized a couple months earlier, before my first trip to northwest Iowa, a region Manfred, a native, loved to call “Siouxland.” I don’t know what I might have been looking for that day, but it wasn’t his name or the book I found, a paperback novel titled The Secret Place. I bought it, then left the store, that book in an inconspicuous brown paper bag, its own secret place, you might say.

Just a few months earlier, I had gone to northwest Iowa and enrolled at Dordt College, in Sioux Center, primarily because I thought I wouldn’t be quick enough to make the Calvin College basketball team. At Dordt I thought I had a shot. In 1966, college choices—at least in my family—were considerably narrowed by tribal identity: Dordt, like Calvin, was one of our schools, a place where good Christian Reformed kids were encouraged to attend, sometimes even required. For me, high school classes in literature or history or foreign language had been little more than starting blocks to get to the gym or the practice field. When I left for college I had no greater aspirations than to become a coach someday—teaching, well, whatever.

In a dorm room full of rowdy guys, I heard the man’s name for the first time—“Manfred,” some guy said, sneering a bit because he claimed the name was phony. “His real name is Feikema,” alocal kid said, “Feik Feikema, and the guy writes dirty books.”

Adolescent male snickering.

“There was this sign along 75—used to say ‘Doon—home of Frederick Manfred,’” another kid said. More snickering. “Somebody cut it down. They don’t like him much.”

How come?

Shrugged shoulders. “You know—dirty books.

He’s from here? I said.

“Yeah, from Doon.”

Where’s Doon?

Thumbs up and over the left shoulder, pointing north.

I’d never heard of a writer, a novelist, actually being born and reared someplace close. Besides, writers lived in books and novels, not in dirt and harvest and the shady ambience of compost. Writers were city folks—educated. Snobs. The best ones were prophets. Writers didn’t milk cows.

Then I went home to Wisconsin, waltzed into a bookstore, and found this novel, The Secret Place. “Frederick Manfred.”

I’m sure I didn’t show my parents, who wouldn’t have understood the attraction; if they had, they wouldn’t have approved. They likely would have seconded the hostility of those upstanding, sign-dumping Doon-sters because my parents preached righteousness as fervently as they opposed dirty books. Meanwhile, their son was 19, and the Sixties were happening all around me. I had my own enthusiasms. 

________________ 

Tomorrow: The Secret Place

Pioneer women

There are two women in this story, two women and 125 years. One of them, this one, Renske, immigrated to America at the end of the 19th century, came here with a husband and a child. 

The other, 96 years old, knew her once long ago. "Aunt Janet knows something about Renske," a friend of mine told me. "She says she worked for her as a teenager." He told me that Aunt Janet lives in an apartment in town, across from the church. "Aunt Janet is almost 96, still lives on her own, and is very sharp," he said in a note.

Renske Hiemstra may be long gone, but her letters back home to Friesland got under my skin when I read them, under my skin and into my heart. Her's is just another 19th century immigrant saga, a pioneer woman who for a quarter century wrote her sister faithfully once the entire rest of the family left the Netherlands, all of them dreaming of homestead promises in Dakota Territory. 

In 1930, in Ponca City, Oklahoma, an oil magnate and ex-governor erected an indomitable, 17-foot bronze figure in a sun-bonnet, holding--leading--her son through a frontier she too saw as an avenue to a better life, an imposing statue called "the Pioneer Woman."

That she and her family displaced the thousands of Native people who called the land their home doesn't mean she and the women she represents don't have a story. She does, because white settlers on the Plains--Yankees or European immigrants--almost always found creating a life out here difficult, even terrifying, especially women, especially mothers. 

Renske Hiemstra didn't fall into the lap of luxury once she and her husband started a new American life. Farming was perilous, offered far more lean years than fat; and death stalked her like a unforgiving enemy. She and her husband Albert lost three children in their first ten years. 

The first, Lieuwe, was a joy, already two. "Nearly 24 hours he was so short of breath--oh, it was unbearable to watch," she says to her sister. "Oh, to see that lamb suffer so. . that breaks my heart. . ." They'd been here for just three years.

Nine months later, the second child, another boy, lived for just two and a half days. "And now, dear brother and sister, what is to be said about such things?" her husband writes, Renske probably unable to put a pen to paper. "We sometimes ask our Lord the reason for such things, but our God does not answer." 

And four years later, a third child stillborn. "This is now the third time that the Lord has taken such a hope for the future from us," Renske writes. "How this touches a parent's heart cannot be understood by those who have not undergone such an experience." 

Still, stubbornly, she clings to faith:  "Nonetheless, the Lord governs, and what answer can we give the Lord and how shall we meet him? He gives and takes away that we may even in this praise his name."

It's her testimony, her refusal to question the Lord God almighty, that grips my heart in her folded hands.

Three children.  And then, twenty years later, in 1921, Albert dies: "we hope to see one another in the paradise of the later-life, where there are no troubles or worries.  It is better for Albert."  

Soon after, the letters home simply end. 

I wanted to know this Renske Hiemstra better, wanted to know that that stubborn, proud faith didn't wither through the painful seasons she passed alone. I wanted to know what she was like when the letters ended, when she grew old.  

And Aunt Janet remembered her.

When I pulled up to Aunt Janet's apartment, she was standing outside, waiting, in nearly 90-degree heat. I shook her small hand politely, and we went inside. She told me how she had never forgotten walking across the pasture to the Hiemstra place 83 years before. Her visitations there were, in a way, a weekly mission of mercy because her mother had told her that Renske was very weak and needed help. Janet was just a girl, thirteen years old. It was 1931, mid-Depression, just about the time that rich man in Ponca City put up that memorial statue. For doing all the housework, one day a week, Aunt Janet said she was paid a quarter.  
I told her why I was interested.  It's a story about faith, I said, and I told her that Renske Hiemstra had lost three children and a husband long, long ago, lost all of that but as far as I knew never lost her faith. 

Aunt Janet didn't know about the children. They were gone before she was even born. Besides, she was just 13 years old, and, she said, "you know what you're like when you're 13." Still, it seemed to shock her that she hadn't known.

But she didn't simply want to tell me what she knew, she wanted to show me. So the two of us left for the country on a tour of the neighborhood where, eighty years ago she'd been a girl--and a look at the Hiemstra place just across the pasture. 

There's likely nothing on the yard that might have belonged to Renske Hiemstra and the son who lived there in those years, maybe an ancient hen house; but once we got out there, Aunt Janet could barely stanch the memories. And why should she? Once she found the place back, there was no stopping her, and I loved the stories.


What Aunt Janet related made it clear that Renske's life, after her husband's death and her only daughter's departure for California, was not at all what she and her family had envisioned when, forty years before, they'd left the Netherlands.  Nothing. Everything Aunt Janet remembered of the place was raw and dismal, even despairing--no food, no refrigeration, no strength.  Aunt Janet says Renske Hiemstra never moved from her chair in the kitchen, rarely even spoke. Aunt Janet was still a child, but the depressing story in that darkly lit kitchen she remembered very well.

I wasn't surprised, but the picture she drew wasn't what I wanted to hear because I would have much preferred hearing her, once again, even yet, extolling the love of God.  Aunt Janet remembered no such testimonies.

I would have much preferred Renske Hiemstra to be the powerful pioneer woman in Ponca City.

She wasn't. The life she'd lived in the new world of the prairie wasn't the story I wanted to hear or to tell.  It ended in a darkened kitchen, with no food.

The two of us circled the place, looked at it from every angle, as Aunt Janet kept telling stories, kept remembering growing up next door, walking a mile and more to a little Christian school that folded when she was going into the eighth grade. There was no money.

When we got back to town, she asked about my family and I told her about our kids, our grandkids. And then she told me, "You know, I've lost two boys."  One to cancer, one, just 18 in an accident. 

Sometimes you start to think that there's so much you don't know. 

When we came back to her apartment across from church, when we pulled up to the front door and I got out to help her out, I couldn't help but notice tears. She seemed to be crying. Her voice as she said goodbye was not at all unsteady, but the tears just kept rolling down her cheeks. 

I don't know why. It's a mystery I would like to understand because I felt both responsible for them and helpless at the way they fell. I'd been the one to bring all of that back, after all. I was the one who wanted to hear, to know. It seemed to me that she'd loved the telling, the remembering, the places so rich in images she'd not pulled from her memory for so very long. I thought she'd loved it. I really did.

Still, when I left there were tears, more tears, Aunt Janet's unexpected tears.

There are two women in this story, two women, 125 years, and just plain all too many tears.  

Who do you trust?

I don't claim to know much at all about Bowe Bergdahl, but I tend to believe most anything David Brooks says, and he says President Obama did the right thing, just screwed up terribly on the hype. That may well be true.

I don't know whether Bergdahl was a deserter or a collaborator, or whether he, like Cacciato in Tim O'Brien's great Vietnam-era novel, just simply decided to walk home. I don't know.

But I do tend to believe the people I trust, and, for better or for worse, I trust his preacher. Why? Because the man is OPC--that's Orthodox Presbyterian, a tiny denomination whose biggest churches, I believe, are in Oostburg and Cedar Grove, Wisconsin, where I grew up. I went to grade school with whole gangs of OPC kids. Few of them were flaming liberals. 

The OPC had only recently broken ties with the mainline Presbyterian Church, their quarrels led by a learned prof named J. Gresham Machen, who left Princeton Seminary in the Thirties fearing what we used to call "modernism," which questioned most anything truly miraculous in Bible, from the parting of the Red Sea to the Virgin Birth.  

J. Gresham Machen wasn't about to allow empty orthodoxy to rule.  

Christian experience is rightly used when it helps to convince us that the events narrated in the New Testament actually did occur; but it can never enable us to be Christians whether the events occurred or not. It is a fair flower, and should be prized as a gift of God. But cut it from its root in the blessed Book, and it soon withers away and dies.

I've been to Synods of the OPC, where men--which is to say, men only--fight long and hard over theological questions so obscure you need an M.Div. degree to read the scorecard. When it comes to theology, OPC preachers are precise. They're not lefties, believe me. 

So it turns out that Bowe Bergdahl and his family are OPC, and that a OPC preacher named Pastor Phil Proctor has been mentoring the family, on and off, for the five years that have passed since young Bergdahl left his post and got himself interred by Afghan Taliban. How does Rev. Proctor see the whole story? 

"This whole thing is the dog of politics wagging the tail of the conservative Christian conversation," he told Christianity Today. "Folks are failing to recognize that this is a political football and was from the beginning. The Bergdahls are just the flavor of the week, and next week it's going to be a different scandal. That's politics."

Wow. I think I can hear coals popping to flame beneath him on Fox and Friends. 

Rev. Proctor isn't finished.

But these are brothers and sisters in Christ. We can have political views on whether Bowe should be in prison, or whether Bob should say the Arabic version of "shalom," but to adopt the rhetoric of the day and use it to guide conversations among Christians about another self-professed Christian--I'm saddened by that.

If you find all of that shocking, you should remember what lots of Christians are saying these days: we live in an evangelical world in which theology is far less important than politics, where talk radio makes heartier converts than the church down the block. 

But here's Pastor Proctor on grace and peace:

We live in the grace of God and as we are immersed over and over again in appreciation of his grace to us in Christ; it lives out in peaceful relationships. I would hope that we as believers can be more eager to pursue peace.

CT asked him if he thought Bowe Bergdahl was a deserter. "I honestly don't know," he said, and drew an analogy:  "If we saw a Christian couple whose daughter had gotten pregnant or whose son got caught with a bunch of cocaine, we would cry with them and we would help them to walk through the valley," he said. "Right now, we're watching a lynch mob, and Christians are getting engaged in the lynching. In any other situation, we'd be hugging the parents and weeping with them."

I got history with the OPC.  I trust them. 

I don't trust Steve Doocey, and I don't trust Rush either.  Sorry.

No I'm not.

Hell to pay

Why not ask John McCain? A Malaysian airliner goes down over disputed Ukraine territory, and 298 are dead, totally innocent victims of war. Why not ask Senator John McCain what he thinks? No one in Washington knows war quite like he does. 

And no one else seems so ready, willing, and able to pull triggers.  Here's what he told MSNBC yesterday:

This was an airliner headed towards Russian airspace and it has the earmarks — and I'm not concluding — but it has the earmarks of a mistaken identification of an aircraft that they may have believed was Ukrainian. If that's true, this is a horrible tragic event which was certainly unanticipated by anybody no matter who they are. And there will be incredible repercussions if this is the case. If it is the result of either separatist or Russian actions mistakenly believing that this is a Ukrainian warplane, I think there's going to be hell to pay and there should be."

Just what "hell to pay" actually means isn't clear, of course. Might it mean American boots on Ukrainian ground? I doubt it. Might it mean American weapons in the hands of the the independent Ukraining forces? Possibly. McCain isn't in a position to determine military ramifications; he's simply indicating to the present administration what he's going to expect once the truth is known--and that's hell to pay.

McCain is a war hero's hero. Few men or women suffered as greatly as he did during the Vietnam War. That he can even stand up is a miracle. That he can continue to lead his Arizona constituency and the American public is a tribute to his desire to serve his country. That he has never stopped serving the U.S. of A., is simply incredible.

But he's always the first to show a fist. Given what he's been through, you might think he'd be last.  

Yesterday's news was simply awful all around. Smoldering wreckage strewn over three miles of Ukrainian farmland, and Israel, tired of those needling Hamas rockets, sends ground forces into Gaza, just a day or two after four kids were killed playing on a beach. Yesterday's news was once again dominated by war on two fronts, so much news that there was no time for Afghanistan, Somalia, Egypt, or South Sudan, not to mention the 28,000 to die, just this year, in Syria.  

Violence is an equal-opportunity employer, and the propensity for doing it seems universal. If you listen to the Bible's account, the world's first baby boy turned out to be a murderer. Makes you wonder about peace, really, doesn't it? Is it simply a pipe-dream? Remember that one Chinese gentleman standing, front and center, in front of that tank? Remember the hippie girl putting a flower down the barrel of some reservist's rifle? Remember Jesus? Maybe exceptions simply prove the rule.

There's a little of John McCain in all of us, a goodly chunk of easily offended human spirit that wants to fight back, to raise a fist, to smash somebody's head, to take revenge, to watch someone else, some perp, suffer or squirm or sweat.

You want absurdity? Try this line on for size:  "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

Are you kidding? Not on my watch. There'll be hell to pay.

Book Review: Latinos: The Next Wave

There are richer, more nuanced, far more serious studies, of course, scholarly books that are tomes, huge theoretical arguments and expansive histories. This one isn't even a book; it may be what we call a "booklet."  Well, maybe it's a little big for a booklet, but it offers some thoughtful and playful insight into one of our most difficult problems, our meaning Anglo-America.  

And that is, of course, the sudden and overwhelming presence of so many Hispanic neighbors. Last week's Wednesday "Night in the Park" here in Orange City was a mini-festiva--food, games, a local Mariachi band--all kinds of fun set up and run by a growing ethnic community that, 25 years ago, didn't even exist here; and most of us, back then, wouldn't have guessed it ever could. Today, Hispanics are everywhere in the neighborhood.  It think Sioux Center, Iowa, has five Mexican restaurants, and that's not counting Taco Johns. 

Several of my friends, pastors all, Hispanics all, put together a booklet titled Latinos: the Next Wave:  You Don't Have to Speak the Lingo because they felt, as do many others, that a good many Anglos need to be formally introduced to the new families down the block.  Formally may not be the best word here because The Next Wave is not formal. It's graced with lively humor and a charming personality, and it's not afraid of spoofing itself.

It's an easy read and a good read, mightily beneficial for Anglos who find themselves surrounded by people  who chatter in Spanish and laugh and hug and carry on with none of our characteristic, upper-Midwest stoicism. None of them worship at First Church of Iceburg either. They're not like the rest of us, with one major exception: they're human. The Next Wave won't let you forget that. 

Republicans--many of them, even Karl Rove--were shocked when Barack Obama won a second term. One of the reasons was the Hispanic vote, which Obama won overwhelmingly and they simply hadn't factored into the equation. They didn't, Hispanics went to the polls, and Obama won. Decisively. 

That surprise led to a regular festival of hand-wringing by people like Reince Priebus, the head of the Republican party. Whether or not there's change amid the Republicans remains to be seen, but Priebus might do well to assign his party regulars this book, if for no other reason than it's become impossible to avoid the Hispanic presence all around us. It behooves Priebus's Republicans--and all of us--to know our neighbors better than we do.

Rev. Pedro Aviles did the heavy lifting on The Next Wave. Aviles, who is Puerto Rican and a true Chicago-ite, pastors Berwyn Ebenezer CRC, the only CRC to stay in the community during the neighborhood's long and sometimes difficult and even dangerous ethnic and racial transitions. Today, Ebenezer finds itself in a lower-middle class community of homeowners, right next door to burbs that each have their own ethnic and racial flavors. It does what it can and what it must and what God asks to be a good neighbor. 

Aviles's The Next Wave is like a Q and A. He sets out to answer questions an Anglo audience might have about their Hispanic neighbors, questions like "What Do I Need to Know about Showing Respect?" Hispanics, like Native Americans, frequently defer to others by not looking at them, a behavior Anglos can easily misinterpret:  "Don't be surprised if Hispanic kids look away when you speak to them," he says. "Non-Hispanics frequently misinterpret lack of eye contact as a sign of concealment, deception, and/or dishonesty." In truth, Aviles says, nothing could be farther from the truth.  "In a Hispanic culture [looking away] actually results from a recognition of authority, a sign of respect, a means of giving deference." 

What this wonderful little book does is introduce Anglos to the history and the life and the personality of the whole catalog of ethnics we sometimes impolitely gang together under titles like Latina/os and Hispanics. As Aviles points out, most of our Spanish-speaking neighbors think of themselves first of all as Mexicans or Puerto Ricans or Guatemalans, the countries of their origins.

Let me perfectly racist here. The Next Wave is for white folks. In it and with it, you'll discover everything you wanted to know about your new Hispanic neighbors. It's published by the Office of Race Relations of the Christian Reformed Church, and I am proud to have had an editorial hand in its production because The Next Wave does a task that needed--and still needs--to be done: it makes all of us more neighborly.

One story from my own ethnic past.  Only recently have Dutch scholars been able to name all of those Dutch passengers who died in the flames of the Phoenix ship, just off Sheboygan, Wisconsin harbor, in November of 1847. Only recently. For years, no one in America really cared who or how many died, even though the sinking of the Phoenix was the greatest Great Lakes disaster of the 19th century. No one really cared back then because those passengers were immigrants, and who on earth really cares about immigrants? 

Once my people too were strangers in a strange land. That's worth remembering.

Use Latinos: The Next Wave with church groups, in small groups, and adult Sunday Schools programs, or just read it yourself. It's goal is nothing more or less than understanding, which is to say, peace.

Morning Thanks--Four men from Berwyn

The old Timothy Christian School 

Late Sixties images should include a gallery of burning cities all over America, images most of us would rather forget. People died in violent street protests. People were killed. Shot. In the middle of the horror in Vietnam, National Guard troops were called up to police burning streets in Newark, Detroit, LA, cities all over America. The nation was torn asunder by racial hatred. 

In Cicero, Illinois, a small, community-based Christian school, faced its own racial crisis when African-American parents from one of its supporting churches asked to have their children enrolled in what had been an all-white school in an all-white section of the city. The board agonized but finally refused, claiming that admitting the black children to what had been an all-white school would put the entire student body and the school itself into jeopardy--no, into danger that was very, very real. 

Fifteen or so years before, a black family attempting to move into Cicero, came home to discover everything they owned stacked up in the street, a mob of 4000 having formed to make sure they understood African-American people were not welcome in Cicero. Animosity is too lean a word; hate is what motivated that mob, hate fueled by the fear the white and ethnic population of Cicero saw on a slippery slope: if there's one black family, next week there will be a half-dozen. A year from now there'll be a score. 

Many of them had experienced similar neighborhood transitions, often difficult, often violent, in other Chicago communities. They didn't want black people in the neighborhood because they were sure that, soon enough, black people would be the neighborhood. 

When the Timothy Christian School Board determined those black children would not be enrolled, they argued that those black children could not be enrolled because the fever of racial hatred--which is to say racism--in the neighborhood was so high that every last dear little child--white and black--would be in danger at the hands of the same mob who had piled that black family's belongings in the street outside their home. Warnings were given--shots would be fired, the school would be torched--bloody threats were made. The board decided they could not risk the torch of hate.

All of that happened almost fifty years ago, but I remember it because I was convinced, and I was not alone, that what happened at Timothy Christian School, Chicago, was the outing of inherent racism in my own ethnic and religious community.  I was a college student with decidedly liberal leanings at Dordt College, a very conservative place.  My father--a wonderful Christian man--considered Martin Luther King an "agitator" who couldn't be trusted because he'd frequented the company of known communists. King wanted war, not peace, my father would have said. Wherever King went, racial animosity didn't diminish, it grew, like a fire.

Timothy, to me, proved beyond a doubt that my people were racists.

Just a few weeks ago, at a restaurant in Berwyn, Illinois, I listened to four retired white men remember that era in their lives, four men who were part of the community that rejected those black children, four men who still attend Berwyn Ebenezer Christian Reformed Church, four men who were, back then, accused of the sin of racism by people like me because those men sided with the board's refusal to admit black children. 

Two of them cried when they recounted those days. All four spoke passionately.  Even though almost a half century has passed, they look back on that crisis as horrifying in every detail. The tensions, the threats, the impossible decision, and the hate that decision created, all of that constituted a moment in their lives like few others.

I'll tell you what I expected to hear from them: I expected confession. I expected these retired men to say they were sorry for refusing admission to black children. I may have even expected tears wrung from heartfelt repentance.  

There were tears, but I was wrong. Each one claimed that if he had to determine an answer to the request of those black parents again back then, if he had to relive all that hate, his answer would be the same because each of them was absolutely sure that horror would result, not from African-Americans, but from their own white neighbors. That's how much hate they witnessed and feared.

I listened to their stories, as did our whole committee, a committee composed almost totally of people of color. It's important to know that the white folks--me included--sitting around that table were a minority. 

There we sat, a church committee, a denominational committee, whose most pressing concern is racial reconciliation, listening to four white men tearfully recount the horror they'll never forget in all its heart-rending detail, but sticking with a decision that made them look and sound, back then, just like their own racist neighbors. 

It was a powerful and tearful moment, a precious moment I'll never, ever forget.

Back then, were they right? 

I think not. But there's far more hesitation in my voice when I say that, fifty years later. Today, I know them. Today I understand them far better than I did when I was twenty because I've heard their memories and their life stories both before and after the Timothy crisis. I listened to their testimony of faith. I saw tears. I felt in all of those stories the very real humanity of those men, which is to say, by way of my faith, I felt the image of God right there in them as they sat and talked around that breakfast table.

The work of racial reconciliation is never easy, but it is blessed; and this morning, I am greatly thankful for those four men, for what they told us, for how they opened their hearts and filled ours.

Wasicu at Chankpe Opi: A White Man at Wounded Knee VI

There’s more. You must have noticed because you can’t have missed what’s right in front of us—what’s been there the whole time we’ve been watching what happened. Be careful as you walk around on that promontory because a crumbling block foundation, scattered with crumpled beer cans and trash, marks the outline of what was once a Catholic church, right there where those Hotchkiss guns rained death on the council circle. It’s crumbling, as things do that are not preserved. 

The church that once stood here was destroyed in the 1973 Wounded Knee conflict, when, once more, violence occurred not far from where we’re standing. Men and women who held radically different views of Native dignity squared off against each other in this very valley. That dispute brought in U. S. Marshalls and turned deadly, when armed wasicu, here, once again, dug in like the cavalry. For many, those government marshalls were here to defend tribal leaders some thought violent, despotic men who’d long ago sold their souls for fools’ gold.

It isn’t pretty—this crumbling shell. There’s nothing to suggest that what once stood above ground here represented—even offered—the Prince of Peace. 

In Coventry, England, you can walk within the skull-like remains of a cathedral destroyed by Nazi bombs during World War II, a remarkable memento of Brit suffering during relentless air strikes. Coventry Cathedral is what much of Europe looked like after Hitler. That foundation is immense, its walls rise and fall jaggedly. But its perimeters are festooned with plaques and flowers and all kinds of memorials neatly commemorating suffering and heroism.

No walls still stand on the foundation half-buried in the crest of the hill where we’re standing. No memorials—just graffiti—decorate what’s there. No one keeps the place up, so what’s left deteriorates in the abusive hands of changing prairie seasons. You can walk into that foundation, if you dare. The empty shell of the church that once looked over the field where hundreds died is nothing at all like the monument at Coventry.

And yet it is. It’s just not sanitized. But then, nothing is at Wounded Knee. Today, there is very little to mark the spot, beyond the sign on the road and the old monument behind us. There is a circular visitors’ center down the hill to the east, the pit toilets stand just outside. The center itself is black, and it’s likely you’ve parked beside it before you walked up the hill to the burial monument. In the summer, the place is open. You can wander into its dark confines, where various displays will tell part of the story. But most of the year you’ll find a padlock on the door, which means you’re on your own at Wounded Knee.

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Kaukko Vintage Multifunction Large Capacity Canvas Travel Shoulder Bag Backpack Rucksack for Outdoor Sports Shopping School

Brand : KAUKKO

Sales Rank : 141308

Color : Khaki

Amazon.com Price : $56.99

Features Kaukko Vintage Multifunction Large Capacity Canvas Travel Shoulder Bag Backpack Rucksack for Outdoor Sports Shopping School

Made of Canvas material
Two side pockets and one front storage
Structure:Main bag,One inner zipper pockets,cellphone pocket,Zipper punching bag,Laptop compartment
With Large capacity,Can hold A4 magazines,Laptop,Ipad,Cellphone,Wallet,etc
Dimensions:HeightxDepthxWidth=17.71"x6.69"x13.77"inchs

Descriptions Kaukko Vintage Multifunction Large Capacity Canvas Travel Shoulder Bag Backpack Rucksack for Outdoor Sports Shopping School

Features:
Made of Canvas material
Waterproof,dustproof,abrasion resistance
With adjustable,anti-skid,comfortable to carry
Two side pockets and one front storage
With Large capacity,Can hold A4 magazines,Laptop,Ipad,Cellphone,Wallet,etc
This bag can be used for travel,shopping,Camping,etc
Suitable for men and women

Specifications:
Material:Canvas
Structure:Main bag,One inner zipper pockets,cellphone pocket,Zipper punching bag,Laptop compartment,One front pocket,Two side pockets
Colour:Khaki
Shape:Tubular type
Dimensions:HeightxDepthxWidth=45*17*35cm/17.71"x6.69"x13.77"inch
Weight:About 1.6kg

Notice:There might be 1-3cm deviation due to manual measurement
There might be slight colour deviation due to different display

Package includes:
1 * Canvas Backpack

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Reviews for DAKIA Vintage Canvas Backpack Shoulder Bag Rucksack school bag Hiking Outdoors bag (Coffee)

DAKIA Vintage Canvas Backpack Shoulder Bag Rucksack school bag Hiking Outdoors bag (Coffee)

Brand : DAKIA

Sales Rank :

Color : Coffee

Amazon.com Price : $36.69

Features DAKIA Vintage Canvas Backpack Shoulder Bag Rucksack school bag Hiking Outdoors bag (Coffee)

This bag could quick-release buckled main compartment flap.
Large side zippered pockets.
It will be a necessity for you to carry with.
No matter where you go, this bag will keep everything you need in place.
Color: Coffe, Army Green, Khaki, Black.

Descriptions DAKIA Vintage Canvas Backpack Shoulder Bag Rucksack school bag Hiking Outdoors bag (Coffee)

Features:

- This Backpack is made of high quality material canvas

- Ergonomic strap is more comfortable

- You can wear it over your shoulder or cross your body

- Adjustment system can accurately adjust the focus for different height and shape

- Length of the long strap of the bag can be adjusted

- The equipment is provided with enough pockets, available for putting in your mobile, wallet, pens, sunglasses, keys and other stuffs

- the tyle of the bag is classic, which shows your outstanding temperament

- Main Bag Size: Approx.41 x 32 x 17cm (L x W x T)

- Color: Coffe, Army Green, Khaki,Black

- Material: canvas

- Weight: 900g



Package Contains:

1 x Vintage Canvas Backpack Rucksack school bag Hiking Outdoors bag

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Best Price for Canvas Hiking Backpack for Men Travel Backpack for College (Olive)

Canvas Hiking Backpack for Men Travel Backpack for College (Olive)

Brand : ManJH

Sales Rank :

Color : Olive

Amazon.com Price : $43.29

Features Canvas Hiking Backpack for Men Travel Backpack for College (Olive)

Dazzle Internal design: containing exquisite logo set (The "E-Clover" is the updated version of the ManJH)
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Descriptions Canvas Hiking Backpack for Men Travel Backpack for College (Olive)

Rucksack-Styled Thick Canvas Backpack Great for School and Camping. Enlarge the capacity: Loaded 14 functional layers that bag, will be good for your work , life, entertainment classified items placed. Strengthen the function: The side pockets --Water bottle goes in upper pockets and if important item in lower zipped pockets. The fabric feels more soft and skin-friendly It is a nice choice for hiking, short trip and so on.

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Virginstone Highland Men Military Soft Cotton Canvas Rucksack Backpack (12"w *16"h Green 16l Small)

Brand : VIRGINSTONE

Sales Rank : 261811

Color : Green

Amazon.com Price : $69.99

Features Virginstone Highland Men Military Soft Cotton Canvas Rucksack Backpack (12"w *16"h Green 16l Small)

Made of high quality pre-washed canvas
Cow leather strip
Military style
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12"w * 16" H 16L not big backpack.

Descriptions Virginstone Highland Men Military Soft Cotton Canvas Rucksack Backpack (12"w *16"h Green 16l Small)

This VIRGINSTONE vintage military medium backpack was made by high quality canvas and genuine leather.Inspired by the military rucksack.Fine workmanship and durable.Perfect for for carrying all your essentials whether at school, on the trail or just on the go,specially washed and finished to achieve that had-it-forever feel.The main compartment will fit most medium laptops,one inside zipper pockets for the wallet and important stuff.Three outside pocketsare suit for the phone,gum,etc.Snap-fastener is easy to open and keep your bag safe.12" W * 16" H.Adjustable shoulder straps.

Featurs:
*Item number:MCAB1026 *Material:Washing Canvas+Genuine Leather *Colour:Green *Dimention:12 inch W x 16 inch H *Strap Length 36inch / 90cm *One front Pocket,two Side Pockets,one inside Pocket *Weight:800g

Search Result :

Algebra 10-12 assignment; Jan. 22

Today is the first day of the second semester, so we talked some about semester grades and semester finals from last week.  We then got right into our next unit which is on systems of equations.  The lesson today was on solving systems of equations using graphing.  We reviewed how to graph lines from slope intercept forms and then started solving systems by graphing.  We got started on our homework during the last 15 minutes of the period.

Assignment:  Systems of Equations graphing WS #1

Algebra 10-12 assignment; April 7th

1st day of the 4th quarter.  We began our unit on factoring polynomials today with a quick review of factor trees and finding the greatest common factor between two different numbers.  We went over several examples of how to take out the greatest common factor from monomials, binomials, and trinomials before getting started on the homework.

Assignment:  Finding GCF worksheet;  #1-20 all, 21-41 odd

Algebra 10-12 assignment; April 8th

We continued working on factoring today, going over the possibility of polynomials that are prime and cannot factor.  We also started working with product and sum puzzles that we will use as we start to factor polynomials without using a GCF.


Assignment:  Product and sum puzzles + GCF factoring WS

Algebra 10-12 assignment; April 23

After going over our homework and entry task, we introduced the concept of how to use factoring to solve polynomials.  Once a polynomial is factored, both factors are then set equal to zero in order to solve for both possibilities of the variable.  After working through several problems together, the students then got started on their homework.

Assignment:  Solving quadratics by factoring worksheet

Algebra 10-12 assignment; April 30

After going over our entry task and homework, we took a look at how radical expressions are multiplied today in class.  The steps given were to  1.  multiply the numbers together outside the radicals    2.  multiply the numbers together inside the radicals    3.  simplify the numbers inside the radicals by factoring out perfect squares.  

We did several examples together before getting a good start on the homework in class.


Assignment:  Multiplying radicals worksheet

Geometry assignment; May 1

We went through another entry task today practicing the use of our various formulas.  We then spent some time taking a look at some animations of how cones are constructed from triangles and how they are related to cylinders.  The class got some new formulas for how to work with cones and then did a couple of sample problems together before getting started on the homework.

Quiz on volume and surface area of solid objects tomorrow.

Assignment:  section 12-3;  page 493;  #9-16 all, 18

Geometry assignment; May 14

We went over an entry task together before going over the homework.  We then took a look at the slope connection between parallel and perpendicular lines.  We graphed several figures in working with these two types of lines together before getting started on the homework.


Assignment:  section 13-3;  page 537;  #1-6 all,  9-12 all

Algebra 10-12 assignment; May 28

We worked on word problems involving systems of equations today in class.  We went over several together and then the students had a chance to work independently on their own.

Assignment:  Systems word problems review sheet

Geometry Syllabus

Geometry Course Syllabus

Mr. Landers                                                                         toby.landers@rsd.edu  Room 2602                                                                            967-6500

Course Description:

Geometry is a year-long middle-level math course that students can receive high school credit for.  The class covers Geometry standards set by the state and district.  Successful completion of algebra is a prerequisite for this course.  At the end of the course, the students will be able to take an end of course (EOC) Geometry exam that can fulfill a graduation requirement for the Richland School District. 

Course Overview:

Over the course of the year we will cover the following topics:

ü  Points, Lines, Planes, and Angles

ü  Deductive Reasoning

ü  Parallel Lines and Planes

ü  Congruent Triangles

ü  Quadrilaterals

ü  Inequalities in Geometry

ü  Similar Polygons

ü  Right Triangles

ü  Circles

ü  Constructions

ü  Areas of Plane Figures

ü  Areas and Volumes of Solids

ü  Coordinate Geometry

ü  Transformations

Course Goals and Mastery Levels:

ü  Students will achieve mastery (80%) of the above concepts and pass the class

ü  Students will achieve a passing score on the EOC exam (if necessary)

ü  Students will be prepared to successfully go on into Algebra 2

Course Materials  (to bring to class every day)

ü  A notebook and paper, including graph paper  (3-ring binder with sectional dividers)

ü  Ruler, pencils, and erasers; 

ü  If tests and quizzes are done in pen, however, there will be a 5% deduction.

ü  Scientific calculator, compass, textbook and protractor.

In-Class Expectations

ü  Eating and drinking is not allowed in class, unless the liquid is water.  I do allow gum in class, provided it is not seen or heard.

ü  Electronic device policy:  If I see it or hear it, I collect it and you get it back at the end of class. 

ü  Phones are not to be used as calculators in this class.  If you need a calculator, you can borrow one.

ü  All tardies are recorded and handled by the office.  Be in your seat when the bell rings.

ü  Keep the language positive in your conversations with and about others.  No swearing please.

ü  The desks are clean.  Please keep them that way by not writing on them. 

ü  Respect others by listening well and responding appropriately when they are done speaking.

ü  During group or partner work, work and share the responsibility with who you are working.

ü  If you’ve got a question or comment, please raise your hand and wait to be acknowledged.

ü  Use your class time well.  Use the class-time that I give you to get started on your homework.

Be ready to work every day!  Math is a doing sport!  It is not a spectator sport!

Grade Calculation:

Tests: Tests are worth 50% of the grade.  There will be a test given at the end of each chapter and at the end of each semester.  The semester test will be worth the equivalent of two regular test scores.  Any student absent from class is expected to make-up the test upon returning.  It is the responsibility of the student to arrange a make-up time with the teacher. 

Quizzes:  Quizzes are worth 30% of the grade.  Quizzes will be given on a regular basis throughout each chapter.  Any student absent on the day of the quiz is expected to make-up the quiz upon returning.  It is the student’s responsibility to arrange a make-up time with the teacher.            

Homework: Homework is worth 20% of the grade.  You will grade your own paper in class before turning it in.  Papers turned in with no name will receive no credit for that day’s homework.  Papers with no work shown / diagrams drawn will also receive no credit. 

Late Policy:  Homework assignments turned in late will receive a 50% deduction.  Assignments turned in more than 1 week late will  be given a zero.  Late is defined as after we collect them at the beginning of class.

Grading Scale

93-100  à  A              83-86   à  B               73-76   à  C                           60-66  à  D

90-92    à  A-             80-82   à  B-              70-72   à  C-                            0-59  à  F

87-89    à  B+            77-79   à  C+             67-69   à  D+                        

Retesting Policy

A student can ask to retake one test per semester if they so desire.  The highest score that can be earned on a retest is 85%, and the grade on the retest is the one that will be recorded.  It is the student’s responsibility to ask for and arrange a time to retake the test with the teacher. 

Absences

è If you are absent, you have that number of days plus one to make up your work.  If you are gone 1 day, you have 2 days to get the make-up work turned in.  If you are absent 5 days, you will have 6 days to get the make-up work turned in.

è Students are required to get work ahead of time for planned absences.  Long- term assignments due during a planned absence must be turned in prior to leaving.  This includes all school activities and sports.  Failure to comply will result in a late assignment.

è If there are extenuating circumstances, please communicate these with me as they come up.

Online Communication

I post a blog on a regular basis of the ongoing assignments for this class.  It is listed under the geometry heading on the blog.  This information is also communicated in the classroom. 

Blog site address:                    LandersmathHHS.blogspot.com

Regular (almost daily) homework is a part of this class, so keeping up with the assignments and knowing the schedule is a key part of success in Geometry.   

Be ready to work every day!  Math is a doing sport!  It is not a spectator sport!

Geometry Course Syllabus

2014-2015

Top Five Keys to Success:

 

#1 :  Be prepared with materials and homework each day you come to class.

#2 :  Participate in all activities….in order to learn math one must “do” math.

#3 :  Listen well and take good notes.  You get credit for doing this.

#4 :  Use your class work time well.  Get a great start on your homework each day!

#5 :  Be respectful of each member of our class (their opinions, efforts, and equipment)

Final Note:

I am looking forward to having you in class.  If you or your parent/guardian have any questions for me, please feel free to contact me using the contact information above.

Please sign the lines below indicating you have read and understand the above requirements and expectations of Mr. Landers’ Geometry class. After reading the syllabus  (student and parent), please detach this second signature sheet and return it to me in class.  This is the first assignment of the year.  I will check to see that this has been signed. 

_______________________________          _____________________________________               student signature                                                parent/guardian signature                                 

This syllabus is also posted on the website for the class assignments. 

èLandersmathHHS.blogspot.com

If you would like a copy emailed to you, just contact me via email and I will be glad to send you a one.

è toby.landers@rsd.edu