Force fields and black holes

In the art classroom we have a set of construction straws. The kids build with the straw pieces connected by plastic pieces that look like jacks. To the youngest students each straw is an object. For boys, the straw is a gun or sword. For girls, it is a flower stem. You may think that I am stereotyping and exaggerating, but I don't get involved in this "free building" activity very much. I just observe while I wipe tempera paint off small elbows. Girls bring a handful of straws to me to sniff. Boys sword-fight.

All the kids gradually learn to connect the straws to form crosses and the number four. Girls begin to act out wedding processions, and boys launch rockets. Occasionally a coed team tries to make "a very long snake" or "a road".

When they are ready to move into the third dimension, they do. I don't think this step can be rushed. For a long time they are happy making "stars" and "twirly things". I begin to ask, "Can you build something that stands up by itself?" I sit on the floor and connect the straws to form tripods, four-legged animals, and cubes. I don't push or preach. I just play. They soak it up. Suddenly, they get it! It spreads like pink eye. They can work together to make cubes and towers taller than they are. They can build Mars rovers and dinosaurs. Peer pressure kicks in to force the younger kids to catch up with the older one's skills, and to prevent overwhelming destructive impulses.

Divergent thinkers make my day. Kids who create arches and jungle gyms for flamingos are my inspirations. My all-time favorite was a boy who stuck straws into his sandals to make claws and wore a cube on his head (while shooting a laser gun, of course).

Having gotten a late start on a career and retirement savings, I have realistic plans. Between meals of generic tuna, I will be in my room building with Tinker Toys and Legos, thank you very much. I'm still surprised that my dad didn't build a geodesic dome in the backyard in his retirement.