Dramatic Play

The golden rule of Jumpstart is the importance of not making a kid share. I know that if I talk to other corps members and team leaders, they’d disagree. On a personal level, it’s the most important because it’s the one that I most often forget.

I stand at dramatic play, a smile plastered on my face. Reading went extremely well today, more than well… It was amazing. Standing at dramatic play with that smile plastered on my face, I can feel it in my bones…today’s session is going to be great. Watching them literally sprint from circle time to dramatic play, I can feel my smile falter a little. My scholars are extremely smart and perceptive. I wonder if they can sense the fear radiating from my body.

Cooking was the name of the game that day at dramatic play, well ideally anyway. The extent of my scholar’s imagination is unlimited. Making pizza quickly became a session of washing dishes, which quickly led to playing house. My job in the game was pretty simple, I sat while they took care of me. As a general rule, the pizza was not allowed to be eaten until all of us were sitting at the tiny table, with tiny chairs that I struggled to fit in. If not pizza that was on the table, then it was pasta with honey on it, or a burger with ranch.

Dramatic play, no matter how prepared the center is, is always a complete chaos. It was on days like this that I wished I had 5 sets of eyes and 3 pairs of arms. The fights that occurred in dramatic play always involved the subject of sharing. There weren’t enough pizza pans, dishes, or aprons. Some girls would hold on for them for 5 minutes, put them down, and soon forget them. Other girls would hold on to them as if their dear little lives depended on it. When the argument would eventually make its way toward me, and believe me, it always made its way towards me, I would cringe inside. A part of me wanted so badly take the cop out, tell the fighting scholars to share, then quickly turn my attention elsewhere. It was so easy. All I had to do was say it. But somehow I just couldn’t. Of course, saying that went against guidelines, but my reasoning went beyond that. It wouldn’t be really fair to make them share. Not only that, it would deprive them of one of the few rights they have when it comes to playing.

I lean down, and I say that I will help them work this problem out. I give them options on what else they can do, or an idea for a game that we can play together. Seeing their eyes brighten at the options, I smile. Crisis averted. 

~Erica Rodriguez

Corps member

Team Compassion