In first grade, my teacher, Mr. Carpenter, let one of the girls in our class play a Madonna tape she’d brought in. A little later, he left the room to make copies. In his absence, all the girls in the class started choreographing a dance to “Lucky Star,” the song that happened to be playing. We incorporated our little blue plastic chairs as props. The big move at the end of the song involved standing on the seats of our chairs, then jumping over the backs of them.
The best part of the story was our teacher’s reaction. Imagine Mr. C coming back with his copies and finding a dance session in progress. He stood in the doorway for a minute, observing, his hand over his mouth, as if he were stifling a laugh. Since he didn’t seem angry or tell us to stop, we kept working on our moves. Mr. C left excitedly, returning with another teacher. They both watched from the doorway, whispering to each other. Then he went off to get the principal.
I think about how easily another teacher might have snuffed out our behavior. We weren’t following directions; we weren’t working on an academic task; it was inappropriate behavior for school. I can imagine some teachers barking orders and doling out punishments. As it happened, my class performed the dance routine for our parents at one of the school’s talent shows.
What would the world be like if we all reacted this way to each other’s natural creativity? Even back then, I felt lucky to have not only witnessed this, but to have experienced this kind of trust. Thank you, Rich Carpenter!