“Get your hand off that board,” processed through my brain as I assessed the teacher who spoke these words with a glare in her eye that said, don’t mess with me. Now, I have only known her for less than an hour, if that counts for knowing anyone at all. Opting to roll with her gesture of deadpan humor I let things progress a bit further. I then learned that she was a multiple degree black belt so she was capable if she so chose to hurt me over placing my hand on a 2x8 that she was getting ready to step onto. When did my world come down to this? Fighting over a piece of number 2 pine lying on a gym floor? Thank you, Lord—this is great actually!
The desert sands were scorching hot, too hot to even step onto that January day. Trapped on an oasis island, unable to cross the impenetrable sands not only from heat but from the creatures that slithered beneath their surface, waiting for a free piece of material to be left behind, two groups of 12 teachers and staff put their heads together. Learning that their first clue to escape was under their feet they went to work on this team challenge scenario, a construct from the mind of Matt, their instructor for the next hour. Personal space was quickly extinguished as they huddled on one side of the tarp that acted as their safe-haven from the sands and tremor beasts so they could figure out what was under feet. The gears began to click and the first leader emerged with a carpet square large enough to scoot across the desert, or gym floor if you wish to live in reality.
“What the heck do I do with this?” someone asked holding up a compass then staring at it feeling like they should know more about it than they’d like to admit. Twelve teachers huddled around a compass, turning it this way and that, giving me an opportunity to chime in, “Where are your math teachers? Who knows how to use a compass?!” In jest some smart remarks flew and laughter was mixed with the volume of two teams competing to figure out this conundrum of getting their team safely across the desert without touching the ground. More scooting, some flipping the carpet-side-down for less friction on the tile floor. Eight-foot long 2x8’s were now in play and members helped the blind (yeah, you have to blindfold at least one person along the way just to make it more interesting), and carried their water supply (literal buckets of water) across the boards. Keeping in mind that now all twenty-four teachers and staff were racing their way across their makeshift bridge and one step onto the sand would send everyone back to the start, what happened next was just perfect.
Team two had come so far—figuring out that a compass always points to magnetic north, building bridges, passing boards, leading the blind, rearranging their order in silence (the winds were too high in the sand storm to hear), and carefully hauling their bucket of water—all things that none of them expected when they drove to school that day. Suddenly, one young lady lost her balance and stepped onto the floor, I mean sand. There was the split second look up to meet my eyes to 1) see if I saw it, and 2) await a response whether I was going to make them start over or not. In that same moment, another staff holding the bucket of water responded, “You’re on fire!” and naturally threw the bucket of water in the direction of the foot foul. Now I have another staff looking at me for a “what now, boss?” holding the bucket of water, proud of her quick thinking. What could I do? “That was awesome! Nice response time and thinking outside the box. If the sand was too hot, you took care of that problem with the water. Not expecting that, but it works for me… keep going!”
I know you are used to hearing about our adventures in the wilderness, hanging off of cliffs, climbing frozen waterfalls, and learning the tales about the kids that we serve, so this one likely hit differently. I asked this group of teaching staff from a local Flint school to go back in their minds to middle school for an hour. Entertain the idea that we can have some fun together, step out of the norms that we close around ourselves, and to think creatively. And, that is exactly what happened. Sometimes we need to step back at the serious nature of our day to day, take a break from defending our adulthood and maturity, then in jest threaten to judo-chop the next person to threaten your path across that hot, tremor-filled desert before you.
-Matt
Comments