Kristina’s Narrative: Marbles Rule, Marble Rules

On day one of research in Grade One, I was dressed in a long wizard-like cloak. I had discussed with the class that when I was a researcher, observing them during exploratory play, I would wear a colourful cloak and they were to pretend I was a silent ghost.

It quickly became evident that exploratory play was noisy and that noise would have to be tolerated not only by me but also by some of the students who mentioned, on a number of occasions, that the classroom was too noisy! Some children developed coping strategies like removing themselves from the hub of noise, while others hummed tunes to themselves. Conversation and accompanying noise infused the classroom. Selma Wasserman warns that “children…actively involved in learning…talk to each other, share ideas, speculate, laugh [and] get excited. In short, they are noisy” (1992, 138). To continue wholeheartedly with the idea of exploratory play, I would have to be flexible.

On the second day I introduced new toys to the class including a plastic marble track. ‘Special Helper,’ student Rick, got first dibs:

On a tabletop, in frenzy, the box is ripped open. Parts are pushed together and three different structures emerge. No one refers to the picture on the front of the box. This surprises me! Sarah says, “Look at the picture on the box,” but she is ignored and the assembly proceeds with few words and many hands—this seems a fluid process. Suddenly Iggy pours too many marbles down the tubes. The marbles are bouncing and rolling everywhere—all over the classroom. In the din of marble mania another noise erupts on the couch in the far corner of the room. Trent is crying. He convulses in bursts that turn to sobs. Marbles roll his way and he gets up to retrieve them. “Thanks Trent,” says Jeff. “What’s the matter?” Trent does not answer but soon joins the ‘marbleous’ game with a smile on his face. He still has not said a word.

Nikki, Kim, and Nora are at the next table looking on. “It’s too loud!” With that, the boys wordlessly take the tubes to the carpet. No one seems to be arguing or controlling. This was authentic play! Amidst all the chaos and noise, the children never once looked over to me to monitor my approval. I felt encouraged that my pep talks had let them trust me—I had said I would not intervene unless 911 needed to be called. They were to try and sort out their own thinking:

Then Sarah, the only girl in the group, pipes up with, “Jeff, you’re messing this way up. Iggy, can you help me?” Again there is no response so Sarah leaves the group.

Rick seems defeated and says, “I’m not playing.”

Iggy reaches for tubes in front of Trent who says, “Hey, you have to share them.”

Trent knots up his arms, cries momentarily and grabs tubes from Iggy.

Iggy and Tyler do not react, but Tyler says, “Look!” Trent stops pouting.

Vivian retrieves some of the rolling marbles, “You guys, your marbles are going everywhere!”

Suddenly the structure falls down and they all laugh, “It’s cool!” Trent says, “The final challenge.”(Hmm? Haven’t I heard this in a T.V. show?)

Kim says, “The marbles are too noisy.” No one responds.

Trent trumpets, “That was so fun, you guys! That was quite the challenge.”

Tyler agrees, “ Yeah! That was fun!”

Observing the children at play, I learned about Trent and his emotional fragility; he had a difficult time sharing and using words to convey his feelings. It was fascinating to watch the other children interact with Tyler’s initiative to help calm the situation. With very few words, children aware of Trent’s frustration seemed to know just what to do and say. By the end of the period, Trent had recovered from whatever had set him off at the beginning of class. (I never did discover that which resulted in his sadness).

I marvelled at the incredible problem solving, learning, and developing of tolerance and acceptance for Trent that the children’s play demonstrated. I took this moment’s magic to make meaning myself. What I witnessed was a whole dramatic scene of unrehearsed, yet richly human expression. Apart from the cognitive development, there was a natural development of understanding for Trent’s initial anti-social behaviour in the group and of affording him the space to grow and adapt at his own pace.

There was still an issue with the noise. I decided to debrief with the class and see what they thought. I felt a need to move from my original commitment of complete freedom to bringing back some rules around noise, but I wanted to elicit the rules from the students.

The Talk

“How did everyone feel about today?”

“It was really noisy at the marble centre,” asserts Nikki.

“How does everyone else feel? Put up a hand.” Most hands go up.

“What should be done?”

“They could play more quietly tomorrow and not use so many marbles,” suggests Kim.

“Thank you. Any more ideas?” The group is silent.

“Can we try to play more quietly tomorrow?

“Yes!” everyone agrees.

“If it gets too noisy for you what might you do?”

“Ask them to be quieter,” said Nikki.

“I also noticed some people moved to quieter spots in the room,” I added.

With that issue addressed, I was curious about the children’s lack of referral to the picture on the box while marble construction took place. I wanted to explore this with the children.

“How did the marble people feel about the construction?”

“It’s pretty wobbly,” admits Tyler.

“What ideas do you have about this?”

No one responded so I suggested if they wanted help they could ask me when I was not a ghost doing research. They agreed. I wondered, should I be changing the parameters of play that we had originally established? Should I be helping my students during and/or after their exploratory play?

Choosing whether or not to offer assistance was challenging because I felt I was imposing my experience with problem solving on them. They may or may not have come to using the diagram on the box in the month of research. Part of me wanted to see how long it would take for someone to see the picture and show it to others. I wondered if Sarah’s suggestion would be heard on another day. I decided to tell them to look at the box when I saw an opportunity, during a formal science time the next day, to discuss the elements of stable, standing structures.

Sonic Boom

On day three, Rick, the computer game master in the class, was thrilled. He was allowed to bring computer games from home. I was cautiously curious for Rick is not known for sharing well, being helpful, or understanding. I wondered about influences from home and the painful comments about family arguments over money he had written in his journal. I remembered these comments as I watched him set up Sonic Boom on the two class computers.

The action begins. Terse, cutting language erupts from the children as they interact with the game. There is a huddle of boys around Adam who has the mouse. Vivian is alone on the other computer.

Tyler remarks, “Sonic is going to kiss the girl.”

Adam exclaims, “Ooooh no he isn’t!”

Jeff fires, “Bam, bam, bam, kill, kill, kill.”

Rick, looking o,n spits, “Damn-it! Yucky, yucky, yucky, I’m going to kill you!”

Adam advances the game and Rick cries, “You don’t have to save the girl. Die, die….I win damn-it! Yes, yes, boom, boom, bang!”

Adam utters, “They all touched him; the robot killed Sonic.”

Rick lunges over Adam and hits the keyboard keys in rapid succession shouting, “Die, die!”

“Can you stop saying that?” pleads Vivian. She promptly plugs her ears and leaves.

Adam, affected by Vivian’s departure, states, “You can’t kill everything.”

Rick insists, “But I’m helping you. Besides it’s not my girlfriend. It’s not real.” In the next moment Rick takes his CD out of the drive and leaves.

Rick had a hard time sharing and his language was abhorrent; there was so much violence and rude, unacceptable conversation referring to females. I wondered if I should interrupt the exploratory play to debrief with the class immediately? I noticed we had fifteen minutes left so I ended the time early. I needed to speak to the computer group specifically but I also thought a general class discussion focussing on respectful deportment was in order. The discussion that ensued revealed incredible insight by classmates. I asked how many children played computer games at home. A few hands went up.

Calvin said, “My dad won’t let me play games.”

Nikki stated, “ Sometimes, kids get too into it and Moms and Dads don’t let them. Bad words can come from the computer. They can teach you bad words and you may get into trouble because you watch the violence. It can give you violence and nightmares and you might do it when you are older and you may get into trouble. It can teach you to hurt people and punch them in the face. You can go to the office or,”

Vivian piped in, “Get expelled. It can teach you swear words and you might say them to teachers.”

Sarah adds, “Or little kids and they will tell the supervision aides. And your parents won’t let you do whatever you want.”

Once again my life as a teacher was made easier by having thoughtful students as allies. John Dewey states, “few grown-up persons retain all of the flexible and sensitive ability of children to vibrate sympathetically with the attitudes and doings of those around them” (1944, 43).

Also, some children, simply, have ways with words. I could not have rehearsed a more direct, honest discussion myself. Jiddu Krishnamurti believes “one teaches to help the young towards self-knowledge, without which there can be no peace, no lasting happiness”(1953, 113).

By allowing the children to voice their ideas, I am fulfilling some of my deeply held beliefs about knowing one’s self and trusting in the processes of living each day to the fullest. John Dewey also reminds us that “children proverbially live in the present; that is not only a fact not to be evaded, but it is an excellence” (1944, 55).

And on this note, I acted swiftly. Addressing the violent language needed to happen immediately. Waiting could have erased the moment. The other children needed to understand the gravity of the situation. Obviously some sensed the injustice, but playground strategies like plugging ears and leaving to avoid conflict were not enough this time. The children needed to understand that along with freedom of choice also comes responsibility. Thankfully I was there to facilitate discussion and seal this moment in the past. But I also wondered if conversation like I witnessed at the computer goes on in the playground? What other misogynistic venom is ejected there? What do girls say about boys?

“I know what to do”/ “I knew it”

For some children, the scenario of learning with the group needed to be shifted to accommodate individual learning at other times. I had at least four students in my class for whom direct instruction, paying attention, and sitting quietly were not conducive to their understanding. They needed more play/time to process information.

At playtime, Nora says, “I don’t want to have centre time.” She asks to use the block paints. I nod, and quietly remind her to roll up her sleeves. “It’s okay, Ms. Wilting, I know what to do.” At the easel she begins a picture and soon looks at her empty palm. She carefully paints the ends of her fingers and makes dots with them on her paper.

Nora did not see me watching. It was interesting how she could be riveted in activity and exploration when expectations were removed. Her exit slip at the end of the day was ambiguous for she had circled both the happy and sad faces. Her comment read: “My friends were nice to me today.” And I thought she was having a great day. I wondered what she was thinking while painting, she looked so peaceful.

David, another fellow who struggles with pencil and paper activities, is assembling the marble track with Nora when Nora appeals for my help. I motion to ask friends.

David says to me, “Do you mean to look at the box?” I shrug and smile.

He triumphs with, “I knew it!” Lying on the floor looking at the box he grabs some marbles and rolls them across the floor, “Bowling!” he chortles.

Nora laughs and says, “I go bowlin’ with my Gramma.”

David Booth, writing about drama in the classroom, points out that when engaged with each other, children share, “a mutual, symbolic collaboration of ideas, undetermined plot, [and are able] to pause in a fictional present, linger on an image, or move forward, backward, and sideways, in an attempt to make meaning happen” (1985, 195).

Another day of unrehearsed, authentic drama in my class!

Hunters and Gatherers

On the last day of our official field study, I asked the students to ponder what they did and did not like about exploratory play.

Kim: “I like playing with my cats (stuffed, not wild) because I don’t get to play with them at home very much. I go to my dad’s and I forget them.”

Nikki: “Playing is not learning because it’s not the same thing.

Trent: “Sometimes when babies play with toys they learn something.”

Vivian: “It’s fun to play with all things. I learned how to explore toys.”

Jeff: “I liked playing with cars with my friends. You can’t push them too hard.”

Tyler: “You have to let go.” (I hang on these words today.)

Sarah: “I didn’t like it when me and Vivian had to solve problems by ourselves, but we had to solve it by ourselves.”

Nikki: “We didn’t have time to play because we had to solve problems. It’s hard to solve problems by ourselves.”

Sarah: “It’s very annoying when people keep asking us to help solve their problems.”

Nikki: “At home I don’t have time to play computer games. I’ve got swimming and piano and Chinese school.”

Vivian: “My mom and dad are always playing games.”

Kim: “Not at my dad’s house because Laurel’s getting things ready to marry my dad for the wedding.”

I was amazed at the clarity with which feelings were expressed and the patience of the group to listen to everyone’s story.

After library later that day Vivian came to me with her new book, How to Look After a Kitten. She was using the book in her playfort made of chairs.

She stops, refers to the book and races over to me to share what she read, “As they play they are learning as well.”

I say, “Wow! What does that mean to you?”

Vivian replies, “ That we need to play to learn too!”

Unbelievable connections! I love it. Serendipity? Or just doing what we do best—playing and making connections.

As Dewey makes clear, play is “persons…trying to effect something, an attitude that involves anticipatory forecasts which stimulate their present responses” (1944, 203).

Freedom of choice both in books and toys from home allowed for the children’s own connections to evolve. I love my job, my researcher-cloak swirling around me, finding conversations to savour. I felt like a tribal leader stepping in and out, around and about my students as if choreographing a new dance. It is a role I like and it fits into the sense of drama I experience and live daily.

Reflections

Thinking outside the box describes the paradigm shift I had to make in accepting how my students came to learning and life at school and in my class. I saw children who love playing and socializing. I learned that giving students exploratory play time in the classroom synthesized much structured learning from other times in the day and that ‘just playing around’ also contributed to an inordinate amount of highly observable, cognitive development as in the marble track construction.

We set out on our playing, exploring, learning adventure with no discussion about noise. My own noise tolerance became less problematic as I became engaged in collecting data. There were many times when I wished the students would talk a little louder while playing quietly and I did not want to move closer lest my presence arrest the chatter.

Being an omniscient, silent observer served me well to form a deeper understanding of the tolerant, human side of children’s interactions as well as the more painful results when children play with inappropriate games. I gained invaluable insight into how I can use the tool of observation during exploratory play to be apprised of immensely critical situations within the classroom. My pre-research idea of playtime was to allow the children some down time if I felt I needed to support some struggling students. Now I see clearly what a teacher can miss without a time for critical listening. I feel empowered to know debriefing exploratory playtime can afford a class amazing opportunities for authentic discussion and problem solving both in an academic vein and on a social level. In some instances children need to be led toward critical thinking, however, once engaged by the teacher , it is astounding what wisdom and perception young children share with one another. Observing children during an unfettered time, such as our exploratory playtime, is one of the richest times I have experienced with my class. I shall endeavour to continue this practice in the future. I feel compelled towards observing playground activity now and wonder what discoveries can be made there.