Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day has long been a cherished day in our culture. We buy chocolate, exchange letters of self-proclaimed love and affection for those we adore, but most importantly it is the significance of remembering those who have made us feel this way that makes the day so special. In an elementary school setting, the concept of Valentine's Day is yet to be fully understood. The boys expel grunts and groans when girls present them with hand-decorated cards affirming their pre-adolescent love. Girls of all ages love pinks, reds, and using hearts to create masterpieces for that special someone even if the outcome isn’t what one intended. In my experience, it has been the younger boys- 3rd grade and below- who are still okay to cut hearts out of card stock of the infamous pink colored paper. It appears that once one has graduated out of the 3rd grade and into the realm of 4th grade,  ideas most commonly associated with females become “hazardous” to the touch and in extreme cases, “blinding” to the eyes. Yes, we have all in one way or another distinguished boy things from girl things and feared the dreaded opposite gender. Child and adolescent development just doesn't disappoint.

Today in school we played a game I learned back in high school that epitomizes the very claim made it the latter paragraph. For half of the school day, girls wore red cardstock hearts with their names written on it around their neck and were forbidden to engage in any conversation with the boys, let alone make and attempt to communicate with their eyes. For the time period I gave them, it was all the boys could muster up to try to make the girls give up their hearts. The amusing game worked to reward those who could silence themselves long enough to escape capture, while also rewarding those who could succeed in stealing away hearts. From a teacher's perspective, it made for the world's quietest classroom and a meaningful period of learning. That in itself is so much to be thankful for.

I started the girls off shortly after worship ended, handing out their personal hearts to place around their necks. Warning them of the danger lurking in the row in front of them, the game began. While the game was still fresh in their minds and the schoolwork had yet overwhelm their thoughts, the classroom stayed quiet but impressively alert. At one point, the girls even hesitated to answer me.

As one might expect from a group of students in this age group, the practicality of the game was jeopardized by repetitious questions about the rules of the game. Why is it that children must ask every possible question about policy as if to burden themselves with the "do's" and "dont's"? It’s as if the game is a hypothetical soccer field insufficient for play until the entire team has walked its perimeter ensuring a first hand exposure of the boundary lines.

The girls lasted through the first hour working diligently on their work while shutting out all possible avenues for outside communication. It was not until one of my 6^th graders engaged me with her completed assignment that my 4^th grader asked her an innocent question to which she smiled back an “I’m smarter than that” glare. Having communicated, albeit nonverbally, she sorrowfully handed over her heart and returned to her seat in defeat, displeased with her trifling mistake. It wasn’t long before my second 6^th grader forked over her heart unwillingly too because she had asked my 4^th grader to leave her desk area in annoyance.  Only one heart among the girls remained and it was kept with sheer concentration and determination down to the last second of the time given,  with which she locked in a successful victory. The boys placed their hearts around their necks boldly and began casting competitive and intimidating statements towards each other and the girls. One can only explain this act of foolishness as a beneficiary of the glorious Y chromosome. Configured at the onset of fetal development, the Y chromosome represents a symbolic trophy of competitiveness and aggressiveness understood, only, by those that can't escape its wrath. 

The two youngest boys lost their hearts within the first fifteen minutes. I can only assume they lost interest or lacked the endurance to refrain from talking. Let me be brutally honest, it probably had something to do with the Y chromosome.  But it was the two 7^th graders that kept strong and focused. In the end, one would lose his heart during recess to an innocent question posed and the other more sure-of-himself boy would lose his to a snarling comment exclaiming, “You girls will never take my heart away.” Hmm.. the irony was enough to send the entire classroom into tears of laughter. Perhaps a lesson in humility was also achieved today.

You might be thinking the game focused more on what was right and wrong to do in an attempt to take a heart instead of the actual humor in stealing away a heart but it was the thought that mattered. Unable to send my own valentine this year, I enjoyed the gift of cherishing my student’s immaturity as a sufficient substitute. And I couldn't help but think, maybe this is how God thinks of us from time to time.