Today I had one very fun and energetic experience in a gymnasium, and one that made me very anxious and hoarse. The fun experience was our 3-on-3 game tonight, which I look forward to every week. Team Friendship, unfortunately, only won one of our four games this time around, but we had a small group and we played pretty hard. (On an unrelated but interesting note: tonight we played at a very small and poorly-lit gym at a public school in Midtown near Times Square. The gym is on the 5th floor, and on the way up we passed a person who looked like a janitor, arranging bags of garbage, while wearing a very visible, large handgun in a holster on his belt. Now I know this is New York City and all that, but a janitor who's packing? Meh?)
The other gymnasium experience I had today involved a very large and psychotic group of children, ages four to nine. Some context: I run various activies at a wonderful after school program in Brooklyn. On Thursdays, we have something called "Clubs," wherein each child signs up for a club--such as Cooking, Dance, or Photography--and they stick with that club every week for four weeks. It's great. Since almost all of my activities are arts-based and I wasn't exactly full of club ideas this month, I decided to volunteer for the "Fitness" club for the youngest group of kids. I had high hopes; I was working with two great co-workers, and I just knew that it was going to be different, more meaningful than all of the silly gym activities these kids do every day. If all went well, I might have the little ones doing Down Dog and Warrior pose by the end. I soon realized how misguided I was. Do you know how children act in gyms? I knew, I really did, yet somehow I thought it couldn't possibly be that way with my awesome club. Even today, on day two, we struggled to get them to follow our supercool warm-up stations and after half an hour managed to get them into formations that could be called lines for relay races, as I muttered "I hate Fitness club...I hate Fitness club" under my breath over and over. By the end, however, we had managed several successful races, and I let them play one fun game of "Cleaning Up Your Backyard," wherein teams attempt to throw all balls and beanbags from their side of the gym into the other team's area. I allowed myself a sigh of relief as kids enthusiastically helped put the balls back into the bag I was holding. Then I got hit in the head with a beanbag. Sigh.
So it wasn't the greatest hour in the world. But fortunately, the next hour I got to spend time with my MovieMaking club, otherwise known as The Best Club There Ever Was, Ever. It's a small group of creative, considerate, committed fifth graders (who else though that kind of phrase was an oxymoron?), who are totally into planning and writing our upcoming film, "The Case of the Missing Staff." We produced a whole storyboard today, people! I felt like I was in the writing room for a big-budget film. I love my job.
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