When the Master of the House Speaks, ....

The head custodian, the physical plant manager or the master of the house (Hausmeister), whatever you call him, he had his say today in my English 9b class. In fact, class could not begin because he was there. I found that I could not enter the room because he had corralled all 34 of the pupils at the end of the room near the door, the sink and the defaced furniture. No one was settled, everyone had coats and backpacks on and the Hausmeister was making a speech. I didn't catch every word but the gist of it was rather apparent: the room had been left in full disarray, a few pieces of furniture had been decorated with indecent images and even the cupboard door didn't look quite right. The brand new chalk board didn't look brand new anymore either. The pupils were trying to explain to the man that when they had been out of the room and their parallel class had been using the room for either Latin or religion class, the damage had most likely occurred. Of course I was having a hard time picturing Latin students or religion students, either Catholic or Protestant, going wild with the black markers, but I didn't say a thing. I was just trying to follow the conversation. Two volunteers were mustered to accompany the Hausmeister to this office to fetch supplies and the clean-up was underway. There were girls pushing brooms right and left. There were perfectly clean looking tables being scrubbed to the nub and most important of all, the indecent images were scoured-off. This allowed me lots of time to prepare my instruction and took a chunk out of our double-period. I figured it would be worthwhile to hold a class discussion about what had happened in English, but I held off until half-way through class. It seems that there are plenty of opportunities for kids to wreak havoc in the classrooms, between classes, for example. Kids are in the rooms and teachers aren't. All kinds of stuff happens and that is the polite way to say it. Twice I came into a grade 8 room only to find an injured child where a hand ball had met them in the face to the extent that they needed ice or to go home. Pupils are trusted to an extent that one might not see in other kinds of schools. When things go wrong, it is up to the lead teachers of each class to mediate, make crucial decisions and counsel troubled kids. Each class has a male and a female lead teacher who work closely together, meet with the parents and manage the physical, mental and emotional well-being of the class. Beginning with grade 11 this changes a bit. There are still advisers but they are called grade-level advisers and their role is a bit different. The Hausmeister apologized twice to me. The second time he told me that he had had an English "Leistungskurs" in school himself and would like to hold a discussion the next time (if there is a next time) with the students in English if possible. This means in fact that we have a very educated Hausmeister. He is new at the school and I think that the school is very happy to have him.

Art as a Political Statement

You innocently wander into IKEA thinking you will check out the mid-priced beds or the fully-equipped kitchens only to discover a photo of four lonely fish sticks artfully-arranged in a frying pan clipped to the counter. You open the display refrigerator and discover two little white mice occupying one of the shelves. What IS going on? It turns out that Ruppe Koselleck has visited this particular IKEA and left his "calling card". Particularly memorable are his family photos, half of his shaved head with a raw steak where a hat might be, his infant daughter swallowed up by a huge beanbag chair, and the red-with-a white-bar-across DO NOT ENTER symbol placed in the toilet bowl. It does make you stop and consider. At a recent public event in Emsdetten, 30 km north of Münster, Ruppe explained that he had unloaded quite a bit of trash at IKEA. He had placed items under cushions on couches and in drawers of display desks, etc. Actually this has been an ongoing project for over ten years. He has played art in IKEA stores in France, England and throughout Germany. We are of course hoping for San Diego, but will wait and see. When no one was watching (actually, when is anyone watching at IKEA?) he would open up a small picture frame and insert his own family photo. Eventually he made a film of himself in action, a film which we were shown at the Galerie Münsterland in Emsdetten. Only once, did IKEA actually respond to Ruppe's activities. They took one of the photos and displayed it in the management's office. While we were at the event, we partook in the rest of the art on display and were particularly struck by one piece which also had attracted a lot of attention from the younger crowd. It consisted of a large circle of salt strewn on the floor with a small something in the middle which went mostly unnoticed. The interactive aspect began as one small child tasted it to be sure what it was and then the children began to make art; indeed one of the Koselleck children left the most lasting-impression, a large, broad face. Even a baby left a footprint. My friend, the artist, told me that this is what art is all about. Let it with messed with!