The Zone

There is an imaginary bubble around the children that moves with them wherever they go. Any adult in that bubble is participating with them in their current whirlwind of activity. This Participating Zone seems to shrink and grow depending on the children's age and location. Currently, the Outdoor Participating Zone seems to extend to about 20 feet.

Beyond the Participating Zone is the Observation Zone, and beyond that is the Suspended-Disinterest Zone. The Suspended-Disinterest Zone is where the children are far enough away (or I am engaged in making dinner) that I am actually not even thinking about what they might be doing. In this zone, I give no thought at all to what I might be interrupting when I call them for lunch.

It is the middle zone, the Observation Zone that can often be most fascinating. This zone is far enough away from the action that the children feel unobserved and yet close enough that I can clearly see and hear their problem-solving, their disagreements and their play. My favorite Viewing Area in this zone is from the large window in the schoolroom, beside the computer.

It was to this window that Todd softly called me yesterday evening. We needn't have whispered, there was no way the children could hear us through the closed window and down about 200 feet to where they were engaged between the barns. But, somehow, whispering always seems appropriate when spying. Very conspiratorial. So we whispered, "What do you think they're doing?"

Each child had a long stick and they seemed to be trying to balance them on end. Finally, they all dropped their sticks at the same time. The sticks stood! There was much elation, arm raising and jumping up and down. They picked up more sticks.

"Do you think they are making a teepee?"

"Oh, I think I remember Rose saying something about an Indian Camp when she came in for some paint."

"What kind of paint?"

"Yellow. Acrylic. They wanted to paint some sticks."

St. George ran into the barn and came out with a tarp. He tried to put it over the sticks, but while St. George is the tall one, Edison is the visionary and engineer. Things weren't going well. Edison tried to bridge the gap in communication by adding to his height. He jumped up and down trying to reach the tarp. He gave up and began to gesticulate wildly, evidently passionate, but still not communicating. Rose, covered in yellow paint, came to his rescue. She decisively walked over to the tarp, grabbed one end, pointed to the other end, and within seconds she and St. George had wrapped the sticks with the tarp and created a very teepee-looking mound. Edison ran back and forth in front of the tent, leaping. St. George did several victory stomps. Rose smiled.

"Do you think it would be alright if I went out there and helped them?" Todd asked hopefully.

I looked at the finished teepee. They didn't seem to need any help. "I am sure they would love to have you play with them." I answered.

And they must have needed some help after all, because from where I sit I am observing quite a lot of activity. And they have attracted a crowd. I wonder how they are going to get all those cats out of that teepee?