What I Don't Know

 One of the challenges I run into when I am teaching is getting beyond my preconceived notions about what kids show up knowing. Nowhere is this felt more profoundly by me than when I am confronted by a sea of Kindergarten faces. Sometimes I make the mistake of assuming that they know more than I imagine. Sometimes less. Which is why I do a quick check for understanding.

"Show me a thumbs-up if you've ever played a game called Marco Polo."

At this point, a number of hands go up, a few voices are raised as well expressing a mixture of delight and confusion, and a few of the requested thumbs. And there are some blank stares. These are the kids who have yet to fully connect with where they are, what exactly is expected of them. Some of them are still working on their first few words of English. This survey has not made things any more clear than they were when they came out to the playground. So I'm going to break it down for them.

"This is a blindfold," I say as I produce a bandana from my pocket. "You use it to cover someone's eyes so they can't see." I hold the red cloth over my glasses, "Now I have to listen carefully to know where I am."

One of the kids offers up, "When you say 'Marco,' we have to say 'Polo.'"

I take this gift and run with it, still blindfolded. "Marco!" 

A few of the kids shout, "Polo!"

"Marco!"

"Polo!" A few more voices have joined in.

I start to move forward, my free hand outstretched. "Marco!"

Nervous giggles accompany their "Polo!" 

"Marco!" This time I take two steps forward. Reaching out, I touch the sweatshirt of the loudest little girl. I pull the blindfold down and explain over the hoots and hollers, "Now it's your turn to wear the blindfold." Spinning her around, I tie the bandana loosely around her head. I lean down to explain to her that she should now say "Marco." Nice and loud. 

She gets it because she has played the game before. Now when she yells "Marco," I can see the rest of the class swarm around her. "Polo," they cry. But they don't seem to grasp the danger they are in of being tagged. Instead, they seem to be putting themselves directly in harm's way.

Or what seems like harm's way to me. What I haven't figured on was this: They want to be caught. They want to be wearing the blindfold. Being "it" does not carry a stigma for them. Instead, it seems as though they see the bandana as a badge of honor. It makes them special. They are getting themselves caught, one at a time, in order to have a chance to be "it." "It" is their chance to be the center of attention. 

I hadn't accounted for that. I learned something. These kids are so smart.