Re-create it, if you can

One Monday, about two weeks ago, a near-parade of seventh-graders came through my classroom door before school with bags of sticks, logs, firewood, colored paper, moving boxes, tiny sea creatures and aquarium stones, home-made sea urchins, a small wooden raft complete with a trap door, colored cellophane, and river rocks.  Yes, pounds of river rocks.

Other teachers saw this.  Some asked questions.  Some just shrugged and walked away.  Other students were curious.  They asked a lot of questions.  My only answer: Wait and see.

Later in the day, seventh period to be exact, things started happening.  Small groups—I didn’t create them—began working.  Three boys used a roll of green paper to wrap a classroom table.  Then, by adding strategic cuts and placing small sticks and more green paper in various places, this table became a palm-frond hut.  Four girls cut strips of green and brown paper to weave vines.  Then, they hung them from the ceiling, creating a jungle of growth and foliage on “North beach.”  Two girls—with an occasional visit from a very energetic boy—used thicker strips of green and brown paper, weaving them into a nearly 10-foot-long guide rope that reached from the hut down to the signal fire and HELP sign.

In one area, a small group of boys built a fire with very realistic red, orange, and yellow flames and a plume of black smoke.  Across the room from them a group of girls created another fire, again with realistic red, orange, and yellow flames, but also with removable sticks to “ignite the other fire.”

A group of four boys worked diligently to create a rock-encircled fishing hole, complete with all sorts of tiny sea creatures, the afore-mentioned sea urchins, and colorful fish.  These colorful fish were equipped with magnets so that the home-made stick-and-magnet-fishing-poles could actually catch them.  The wooden raft was placed close to “East beach” where a few boys added to its size using cardboard.

As the students in the classroom created and placed their objects correctly, two boys went to pre-arranged classrooms in our building to collect a few artificial trees and small plants.  I had acquired a fake palm tree from a neighbor’s curb a few days prior, and it was waiting to be placed properly.

“What was going on?” You might ask.  I could respond with very education-jargon-style answers of “close reading,” “recalling details,” “collaborative group work,” or other such phrases.  The real answer is, “My students were re-creating the cay.”  We had just finished reading Theodore Taylor’s fabulous book about survival, acceptance, friendship, and love.  In this book, two characters were stranded on a tiny uncharted cay in the Caribbean.  Timothy, one of the characters, describes this tiny island in such incredible detail, that re-creating it is not only possible, but—to me at least—it seems necessary.  So, we did just that.

All student desks and chairs were moved to the western and southern sides of the classroom.   I brought rolls of colored paper to the hallway outside of our room.  I also took out my rolls of masking tape, clear tape, yarn, and a few pairs of scissors.  I supplied an arrow on the floor pointing North.  Other than this, my involvement was minimal.

When there were about 5-7 minutes left of class time, I asked everyone to make sure that anything that was not necessary to the cay was either recycled, thrown away, or stored somewhere outside of the re-creation.  By the time the bell rang, the cay was complete. 

My students were quite proud of what they had created, and they were right to be proud.  All of the items were placed correctly.  Everything looked as Timothy had described it.  Our classroom was truly transformed.

We lived on our tiny classroom island for the next day.  So did my other grade-level classes.  My 6th graders finished a unit of tall tales on the island.  My 8th graders took a vocabulary quiz on the island and had a lively Socratic Seminar around one of the fake fires.

Was this activity a bit disruptive?  Yes.  Was it messy?  Yes.  Did it involve the help of students, their families, and other staff members?  Yes.  Did other students, not in my classes, enjoy it?  Yes.  Will my students remember this?  Yes.  Will I do it again?  Yes.

You may not read this book with your classes.  But I would be willing to bet that you read something that is described in such a way that you can see it clearly.  You know where everything is.  You would be able to re-create it.  If this is true, think about doing just that.  Re-create the setting of a book or a short story.  Live in it while or after you read.  You and your students will remember this long after the last bit of paper is recycled.