I always liked to think that, as a kid, I had an impeccable
imagination. I mean, in those days I could take any golf club lying around the
house and magically turn it into a scepter, a lightsaber, even an outrageously
long Harry Potter wand if need be. So
proud was I of my imagination skills that, if you asked me a month ago just how
good they were, you’d never hear the end of it. To me, they were unmatched by
anyone…or so I thought. Indeed, that was before I met some of these Jumpstart
kids. These Jumpstart kids, man, they are just something else.
Back in the
day when I used to make up stories of me riding unicorns or testing new
rollercoasters, I always had props.
For example, when my best friend and I were riding our “unicorns” in the white,
puffy clouds, we were really just riding our bikes in the cul-de-sac on clouds
we drew with sidewalk chalk. And when I said I used to test out the latest and
greatest amusement park rollercoasters, that merely meant swinging on the
playground swings.
Now, as I
said before, acting on all these random, imaginative impulses always involved making use of a tangible
object, or else it wasn’t fun. What I’ve noticed about some of our Jumpstart
kids, however, is that they can get by without any props. Literally, all they
need is their imaginations.
Just two
weeks ago when we were implementing our last Jumpstart session for the
semester, I started to panic. I was in the Dramatic Play center with five kids and
quickly realized that there weren’t enough cut-outs of Betty Crocker cakes to
hand out to each of the kids. I anticipated the worst. In seconds one of them
was bound to have a temper tantrum, an
epic meltdown. After all, what
kid wouldn’t be mad if everyone else
had a Chocolate Chip Betty Crocker Cake Mix cutout to call his own but himself?
Needless to say, this was bad. Real bad.
Frantically,
I begin searching for some sort of tangible substitute that could cork the
inevitable tears from coming. All of a sudden, I feel a small tug on my left leg.
“Ms. Leila,
what are you looking for?” a small boy said.
“Hey there!
How are you? Oh, oh nothing, I’m just looking for another Cake Mix to play
with.”
Quickly I turn
around and continue the hunt, only to be met with yet another tug.
Uh-oh.
Here is comes… I thought to myself.
Slowly, I spin myself around and
stoop down to the boy’s level.
“Yes?”
“Here Ms.
Leila. I have another one.”
I look at
him squarely. He raises his empty, cupped hands. For a second I just stare at
him, utterly confused. At first I thought it was a joke, a classic
“I-fooled-you” witticism. But the expression on his face didn’t change. He
blinked twice, a little puzzled himself.
“It’s
vanilla,” he said proudly, pushing his hands closer to my face. “Is that O.K.?”
I smile.
“Vanilla? Why,
that sounds delicious.”
~Leila Nasser
Corps member
Team Joy
Corps member
Team Joy