Circle Theorems

by Ysabelle Perkins

The angle at the centre is twice the angle at the circumference.
The angle subtended by (or standing upon) the diameter is a right angle.
We have been working on this topic for days, yes - daze, I'm also tired.
Tired, tried and tested. Test marks are low.
Morale is lower and morals the same - that talented boy is in trouble again.
I saw him at the sports track looking fit and focussed,
The centre of attention, handsome and heroic.
Then I glimpsed him at the headmaster's door, looking scared.
He said "My mother's very upset."
Sometimes I almost forget that I'm a teacher
I see things through a mother's eyes - yea, almost a preacher!
So how do I centre their attention on the next point
We must move on to chord and tangent...

At some point, angles turn into Angels.
The Lord sent one to me this morning.
He said "I've been sent to remind you what circles are about."
"I graduated years ago and I've been drawing basic shapes ever since.
Who are you to give me the third degree?"
The Angel looked at me, looked through me,and replied
"Before a fall cometh Pride."

It was hot and it was late.
The girls were writing love-notes
For boys to take the bait.
And in a flash I realised that lessons are for all of us,
Connections were becoming clear.
Circles within circles, question after question,
I saw the pupils' battle to grasp a simple theorem.
Of course the radius is perpendicular to the tangent
In every circle, big and small.
Why can't they remember that - why must each lesson stall ?
I drew a thousand circles on the board
I spoke, explained and all were bored.
Homework after homework
The drawings yet would falter
But every circle that I marked
Now seemed to mock me.

I realised that I had made a vow
Years ago, tears ago
And daily wear a ring to prove it.
Without beginning, without end
A circle is a symbol of love and of eternity.
So easy to criticise those form three sketches
And to shudder at poor, misshapen efforts
" This one is like an egg, my boy.
Have you forgotten your compass once again?
Com-pass! The one with the sharp point."

The point is sharply made.
How impatient we are with another's slowness, sloppiness.
Now I feel the Angel's scrutiny
The circle that I study is that of love in my own home.
No crude metallic instrument here to help me draw a perfect round.
My tools are made of gestures, words and prayer.
I looked away from the pile of scripts
To gaze into my soul.
I mark in red pen, line by line,
But with what are the scribbles in my heart to be judged?
Red blood was shed for me, long ago.
Perfection bled for me.
A bumpy figure, not fully formed
This is how my love has grown.
I remember almost every failure now,
Language compass-sharp, ego-centric.
Going off at a tangent instead of following the right path.

This Angel was well-educated and perceptive.
Gentle, a kind teacher.
"You are much like those you teach.
Moodiness is a downward spiral,
Keep to the locus you are called to follow.
Wear humility, compassion for sorrow
Leave those Circle Theorems til tomorrow
You need to look up now
Be still and renew the vow
To love and to cherish
The one whose name you bear.
Surprise him with ringlets in your hair !
You once grew round-ish and bore children,
Put your arms around them
Encircle them with warmth."

Thinking of circles
Wheels within wheels
Whistling a prayer, I cycled home
The revolution of attitude had begun

As I approached the roundabout,
I remembered that I had not thanked the Academic.
But when I looked around, there was no-one.
Perhaps one day we'll meet again
To continue the theory of circles and love.
Or perhaps, if I'm struggling, he'll give me a ring...