Football, Boys, and Korean Girls

Ahh!! These kids. Not quite as hyper-active as my first graders at Grace Academy, but they are VERY active. I love it. (Imagination and energy are my top delights in children.) When they walk to line-up, they hop because they just need to release a bit (more) of their energies.

I have one “all-American” boy who brought his small “nerf” football to school. 

“Miss Martin!” 

“Yes, Oliver?” 

“I brought my football!” 

“Oh YES! I am so excited!” 

“Miss Martin!” 

“Yes, Oliver?” 

“Want to come out and play FOOTBALL?!!?!?!” He furrowed his blonde eyebrows with intensity. His sparkling blue eyes were gleaming in delighted anticipation of my answer. 

"OF COURSE I DO!!!!" Mine was an equally enthusiastic reply.

After lunch recess, I let my students stay out for a bit of extra play time... (instead of “rest reading time.” heh heh) And I taught my (primarily) Korean class how to play American football. 

From the beginning I had my doubts about this plan. Korean (girls) are usually a bit more fragile than most. But, Oliver was pretty pumped -- and I had been wanting to play some FOOTBALL too.

The class itself seemed pretty excited, and so we went for it.

They decided that it would be best to split up boys and girls. Fine. Fine. I explained two-hand touch football, where they should be running, how to hold the ball while running, and that the boys must try to be GENTLE and KIND with the girls while playing. (Sure.)

We began.

A couple plays into the game, the girls had the ball. The most petite of the Korean girls snatched up the ball, wove her way through the kindergarten crowd, and got to her team's touchdown line. The boys caught up and pretty much mooshed her. (So much for gentility.)

Intensity was the expression on every face. Boy, girl, they were all pulling for the ball. 

The rest of the girls came and they joined in the foray with equal determination. 

And then, the sound of tears. An injured (Korean, female) student.The same one who had scored the touchdown.

Within seconds of the touchdown (actually) I was at the mob, trying to break it up and pull the small girl up from the side-bottom of the pile.

The teeniest piece of skin had been scratched from her finger.

I wanted to give her the wise wisdom my father often gave to me, “Why don’t we go rub some dirt on it?” Or, “There’s no crying in football!” But, I refrained.

I made her stand up.

I inspected the small scratch on her finger, kept her pulled in to a tight hug, and then declared that there could be no more football unless the girls were ready to get hurt. 

A couple were willing to play again. The boys were all for it. We continued playing a 5-year-old international version of football, but we had a great time. (After I had finished soothing the injured student and had showed the boys how to show compassion to a girl who has been hurt. Yes. Yes.)

I am thankful for Oliver’s American spirit. We continue to play football with some other brave souls at some of our “outdoor playtime.” It’s great. He likes to be tackled and I like to pound him down on the grass -- while he giggles with delight. (Of course.)

Post Note: The next day the injured girl came up to me to show me her wound. She used some words like, "Look Miss Martin, my football injury is getting better!" hah hah I do wonder what her parents thought of us. "Yeah, we played American football today. Miss Martin showed us how to play, then I got smooshed."