Alphabet Bingo

In preparation for the next session, I labored over bingo boards for five hours. Logically, I understood the children did not care if I meticulously cut and decorated each chart. During the first few minutes of Center Time, I watched as all the children rushed to Dramatic Play like Wal-Mart customers on Black Friday. And logically, I understood the children did not intend to personally reject me. Yet I could not help but feel a little disappointed.

I plastered a smile on my face and continued to match the letters alone, the rejection stinging.  A few minutes later, however, a girl came and sat beside me. I started to incorrectly match the letters, hoping she would notice. She did immediately, forcibly removing the letters from my hand with a shake of her head.

She spread her arms wide, removing every letter from my reach. Clearly, I could not handle this responsibility. I watched, occasionally peppering the silence with questions, as she diligently matched the letters to the charts. Suddenly, she gave a whoop of surprise. “My name!” she exclaimed, pointing at the chart. Across the top, the letters sat in the correct order. In that moment, I felt so proud of her – and relieved that my station could elicit that kind of reaction.

In the end, she asked if she could take the chart. I nodded, “It does say your name.” Though entirely coincidental, I felt like the instance serves as a reminder: Every hour spent on materials creation matters. That chart – cut at exact ninety-degree angles, decorated and laminated – may sit at the bottom of her backpack for months. Or the chart may earn a space on her refrigerator; it may spark a conversation with a parent or sibling; or reminder her of her inept Jumpstart friend who always failed to match the letters.

~Ellery Spahr
Corps member
Team Connection