Show and Tell

At the start of a class I was teaching one day recently, a second-grader asked me if he could share something with his classmates. In fact, he wanted to share two things. We used to call this “Show and Tell.”

What did he want to share, I asked him.

“This is my rock collection,” Matt said, holding up a Ziploc bag with a number of specimens. “And this is my dog, Dookie,” handing me a laminated photo of a dachshund.

We had a full schedule that morning, so I channeled Solomon before making a decision. Tell the class about the rocks right after the morning announcements and the Pledge of Allegiance, I said. Hold off on Dookie until after lunch. 

With his classmates seated before him on the carpet with mixed degrees of attentiveness, Matt pulled out exhibit No. 1. Everyone agreed that the flat rock, mostly round and pockmarked by small holes and bumps, resembled a chocolate chip cookie. The second rock was characterized by shiny streaks of quartz. The third rock Matt identified as “sidewalk rock,” whose description he attributed to his father. No further explanation was needed.  

Immediately after lunch, Matt reminded me that he had a second presentation. His opening remarks were greeted by a few juvenile catcalls. “You already told us this,” came the lament from some in the peanut-sized gallery. A few others urged him on. Matt continued, explaining that Dookie, rescued from a shelter as a puppy, was originally christened “Champ.”

Matt opened the floor to questions:

Does he bite?

“Sometimes, but it doesn’t hurt.”

Does he like to play?

“Yes, especially with his favorite ball.”

I had a question. Was Dookie confused by his name change?

“At first he didn’t know that Dookie was his new name, so when we were calling him, he didn’t pay attention. But now he knows that Dookie is his name.”