We've started a new semester of bible class at the GW. I am teaching 3rd and 4th grade which is a bit of a stretch for me. I've found that 5th grade is my sweet spot; young enough to not be jaded but old enough to have a bit of timidity when I am spurring them on to glory. 3rd and 4th graders don't really need to be spurred (or ox-goaded but that was last week).
I was reminded of that this morning in my class. We are studying the judges and today's lesson was Gideon; the "Mighty Warrior." Now I have been teaching kids of various ages and mental statuses since the early 70's so I know that sitting around a table taking turns reading is about as interesting as filing a tax return. I have found that some sort of learning experience that involves movement and tactile input is much more productive. (One day I think I will write a book about this. Maybe I will call it 'experiential learning' and pretend I have discovered something new.)
Anyway, near the conclusion of the lesson with 5 minutes remaining I handed out the trumpets. Really they were just party horn noisemakers (honoring Josh's birthday, of course) but after our riveting lesson they were so much more in the minds of my eager learners. They were a weapon of destruction to use against an army of Midianite invaders. Invaders who had taken over the bulk of our classroom causing us to hide in the caves and winepresses in the far corners of our room while they occupied the table and chairs.
Did I need to say "blow those trumpets as loud as you can?" Perhaps not. Did I do it anyway? Certainly. Did pandemonium ensue? Perhaps. Did at least one parent get bent out of shape and peek in my window and motion for his child to sit down and be quiet? Of course. Did that make me laugh? Definitely. Did I say "blow again I believe some are still alive?" Possibly.
How do we count success? To see unmitigated joy on the face of a child as they make some small part of the lesson come to life in juxtaposition to the look of disdain on the parents face as he fails in an attempt to usurp my authority in MY classroom? Yes, that's how I count it.
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Once in Scotland I got to teach the 5 year old class, which consisted of only Hailey's brother cause he was the only non-teenager and was jealous of the teenagers with their class. So we did Elijah and the prophets of Baal, cause that's my favorite (I love Biblical throw-downs) andnaturally had to act everything out, as there is little to extrapolate on in that story other than Elijah/Gid are badasses. So there was pouring water all over the kitchen after building an altar and killing a stuffed animal. Theres was also yelling and pretending to cut ourselves. I don't know what they thought I was teaching him. I also don't really know what he learned.
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