This afternoon is unlike the rest of their regimented school day at Giffen Memorial Elementary School in Albany's South End. Students shift from social studies to Spanish to lunch to gym. They line up in a set order and when they're sitting, it's butts-to-the-floor or -seat, eyes forward and absolutely no talking.

They say music makes the world go round but we've found,

     That African Americans have been holdin' it down.

     They say music makes the world go round but I've found,

     That African Americans have been holdin' it down ...

     These kids know Ja Rule, they know 50 Cent, they even know the Jackson 5. Familiarity with some of the other greats, like Aretha Franklin, B.B. King and Chubby Checker, isn't as common. So Dudley, a fifth-grade teacher at Giffen, found a way to combine what they know with what they should know.

     He uses rap music at the epicenter of these kids' lives to create an original song for their Black History Month lesson. In years past they focused on Rosa Parks and Barack Obama, making them more than just names heard in school or on the news. This year, they celebrate African-Americans in music.

     "It's a culture, it's a rhythm," Dudley says. "I can connect with them even though I didn't grow up like them."

     This About Black Americans in the USA,

     So listen up people to what we have to say,

     What happened to the music of so long ago,

     Music of importance, I bet you don't know ...

     "Can the two of you work together?" Dudley asks Jessica Moultire and Lee'Asia Black, two students flanking him at his desk. "Maybe come up with a combination thing? I like what you have here, a lot."

     The lines of the song are not credited to any one child, but smiles sprout around the room as each word is chanted. Kids who admire many musicians, but never thought they could be one, show modest pride, and even some embarrassment.

     They gather around Dudley's desk and eagerly show him their pages, some with a couple of words, a line or two. Others show off papers with large printing, a few misspellings and lots of pencil smudges. As Dudley examines their work, he can't help wondering however fleeting what will happen to these kids as they grow up. What will they become?

     In his seven years of teaching, he has seen former students charged with misdemeanors and felonies. Others were published nationally or earned awards for community accomplishments. The kids before him today aspire to be doctors and lawyers; moms and dads; Army soldiers; and musicians. None of them look for trouble, but he knows trouble may find them. That's just how it goes.

     At least for now, in the safety of the classroom, two-dozen plus students focus on their song. Talk does not deviate from musicians and other historical black men and women.

     Let's talk about some people from back in the days,

     Smokey Robinson, the Jackson 5 and the O'Jays,

     The Supremes, Diana Ross, Duke Ellington and Whitney,

     The Commodores, Ray Charles, B.B. King, and Little Richie...

     Dudley, a self-proclaimed "skinny white guy who doesn't have street background," constantly works to relate to his students.

     He has found a variety of ways that work, yet few have proved as popular as incorporating rap into the classroom.

     "Regardless of race or economics, students are aware of rap. If you tap into that, you increase their learning," says Wilberlee Range, interim principal at Giffen. "It makes the learning authentic. And if it's authentic, it becomes engaging."

     It's not a daily activity, but when Dudley teaches poetry or works with the students on their Black History Month performance, as he does today, the rap works.

     There's so many styles jazz, blues, and Doo-Wop,

     But now all we hear is rap and Hip-Hop,

     Chubby Checker made us feel good with the Twist,

     Nowadays songs like that are sure missed.

     Back at their desks, Jessica and Lee'Asia get back to work.

     "African Americans have a beat like Prince and bebop. Gospel, Destiny's Child and doo-wop," sings Lee'Asia. The cadence is a bit off, she knows, but not bad for a first draft.

     "I have `From beat box to break dance,' sings Jessica, bopping from left to right. "How can we combine them?"

     The girls toss "gospel" and "funk fusion," "B.B. King" and "Nelly" out for consideration. They play off one another. Lee'Asia picks up where Jessica leaves off, and vice versa.

     Listen to the music 'cause all of you should know,

     About Funk, Fusion, and Fats Domino,

     Back in the day, we had the Temptations

     People tuned in to hear them on their radio stations,

     The girls' voices blend in with their classmates'. The chatter in the room ebbs and flows like the beat of the music. Students praise each other's lines, read them out loud, work together to string sentences into verses.

     At the crescendo, Dudley holds up his right hand, counts down "three-two-one." The kids stop talking, scramble back to their desks, many with their hands folded, and they let out a collective groan.

     The lesson is over.

     "Don't worry, don't worry, we'll keep working on this," says Dudley. "Take your notebooks to lunch, take them home, talk about it, think about, speak it and we'll talk again later in the week."

     It's not often sounds of disappointment radiate in schools when a teacher is done teaching, but Dudley is different. The 29-year-old is known for his creativity and his hip-hop.

     Many of these artists' records have gone gold,

     Their part of our history they're not just old,

     Louis Armstrong's career was long,

     Oh What a Wonderful World, his hit song!

     Dudley's first brush with rap came more than 15 years ago. His aunt gave him a tape by the Fat Boys, someone else slipped him an LL Cool J cassette. They twisted their words in a way that enticed and attracted Dudley. Soon he was writing his own lyrics, putting them over existing musical tracks and creating politically and socially conscious songs.

     Profanity does not exist in his lyrics, another lesson Dudley passes along to his students. Anything by Akon and most of 50 Cent's tracks are not used in the classroom, no matter how catchy the beat. They talk about guns and murder, drugs, violence and explicit sex all behaviors Dudley works to steer his students away from.

     Great music doesn't have to advocate for bad choices, he says, pointing to KRS-One, Common and MOS Def as examples of positive rappers. Good music can do good.

     And as long as his lessons work, the music-making continues.

     James Brown also known as the King of Soul,

     With music and dance moves that are beyond control,

     Older musicians need to be appreciated,

     We cannot forget some of the things that they've created...

     They have nine more verses to go, says Dudley, but what they have already is more impressive than he imagined just three days ago when, for many kids, James Brown was just "some guy" parents listened to.

     Kristi Gustafson can be reached at 454-5494 or by e-mail at kgustafson@timesunion.com