“Are you happy with that?”

yes. I am. Quite pleased, in fact.

The first meeting of the Cardboard Club at College Wesleyan Church through WonderSpace (henceforth reffered to as just “Cardboard Club”) was a massive success. It was a “skills workshop” highlighting the four major tools I use in my cardboard endeavors, and I’m happy to say I neither underprepared nor overprepared! I somehow hit it right on the spot with two double-sided documents, including a thorough agenda, and a trifold that they could take home and reference. The “Agenda” you see (a.k.a. word vomit) was actually pretty handy! When we got to knives and glue guns sections I even held up the paper and read verbatum some of my prepared remarks. The “Trifold” you see (which will be improved for future meetings) was printed on cardstock, and handed to each member to use during the meeting for referencing things like the 5x5 grid, and then to take home and use the “Practice By:” activities listed underneath the safety tips for each tool. The most precious moment to me (after admitting how proud I was of the silly trifold) was when the youngest boy said something along the lines of “I like your trifold and I’m gonna use it!” The comment made all the annoyance of designing worth it.

Introductions

I’ve belted out “Be Our Guest” in front of large crowds, performed presentations to intense judging panels, given a Valedictorian speech to the entire graduating class and their families, and already led half a dozen workshops for tweens. So I should be a pro at public speaking…
And yet I was terrified of this handful of unknown 8-14 year-old boys and their mothers.

I think it was partially due to the emotion I had put into this workshop that was different from my performances and previous workshops. With the ones at NMPL, I had managers to lean on and who already knew the kids. With the performances and prepared speeches, I was going off an exact script without interruptions. With this one, I was going in blind, and with far less social support. I was fully in charge. There was no “capital A” Adult to introduce me, and instead I was to initiate the entire meeting. Huge difference.

So there I stood in my fancy apron and Ft. Wayne Children’s Zoo baseball cap at 5:34 with a 5:30 expected start time, not sure what to say. But I knew I would want to know these boys’ names. What happened next makes me violently cringe, but it worked. Hear me out:

I said my name… and then had each of them say theirs (and what they would like us to call them). REVOLUTIONARY tactics… I know! The next part is huge though: I then said each of their names in order, making sure I got them right. How teacher-like of me. So proud.
Surely that was the extent of the awkwardness… right? WRONG. I then had each person (including the Moms on the couch, whose names were included in the practice) go around the group and say each other person’s name. We had to have heard them all three dozen times by the end. That was my first success, because there was little-to-no chance I would forget their names, and it saved me from the need for nametags. And it was a bit of an introduction to how the Club will run: inclusively, making sure everyone present is involved. It showed that not only do I need to know their names and they know mine (which is conveniently in large print on my apron) but that they also need to know each others’ names, implying present and future cooperation.

This activity took an entire sixth of my alloted time (15 minutes). We hadn’t even started with the…

rulers!

When each of the members came in, I had neatly laid out a ruler, pencil, and white sheet of paperboard (previously called cereal box cardboard, now to be reffered to officially as paperboard) at each spot. They sat down, and only minimal ruler swinging commenced. It was surprisingly well-behaved and quiet before the introductions. (I don’t expect that to last as they get to know each other—but that’s fine by me since I know how to channel the energy constructively) After they went through the “name game circle of pain,” they were warmed up enough to hear me say, “so this meeting is going to be way less exciting than future ones…” since we were just going through the tools. And then I was met with the anticipated eye rolls when I said we were starting with rulers.

When I asked who all knew how to use a ruler, everyone raised their hands. But then I had them divide a sheet of paperboard in half and draw a line down the middle. I saw who could measure and who could draw a straight line in one simple task—and it was similar to my expectations. There is always that one boy who is confident in his ability, but it looks just… horrible; then there is the boy who suddenly isn’t so confident after being tested; and luckily there are those that improve leaps and bounds with just a little coaching. But no. Not everyone was correct in saying they could use a ruler. And oh, the straight line was the easy part compared to 15 minute attempts at drawing a 5 by 5 grid… as was expected. It really is trickier than I would know after drawing so many. How do you start? How do you keep your ruler straight? It took patience, but we got them through the exercise, and those who recognized they may need a little improvement now know what to practice. That was rulers.

Scissors

It’s cool to see tool skills stack on each other. For the boys’ next task, they were to cut a straight line with their pair of Westcott Soft-grip Titanium-Bonded Scissors (#notsponsored) and they could use the ruler to draw a straight line and follow that with their scissors instead of winging it; so most did that. There was a hilarious moment when I was passing out the pairs and nerded out about scissors: I showed them all my Non-Stick Glide-Adjustable pair and straight-up told them, “this is the best pair of scissors out there. You all get the second best for now because they’re cheaper…” and the parents laughed. I guess I showed my real dedication to the tools, because one of the boys adopted my enthusiasm enough to say by the end “I’m gonna ask my Mom for these exact scissors and glue gun” at which I melted into a puddle of pride.
The straight lines were easy for the boys, so I quickly moved them all onto attempting cutting curves and more detailed objects. They could draw a quick scribble on a sheet of paperboard, and then try and cut along that line. There was no reason I should have prepared lines for them to cut along, since the freedom was readily appreciated. I moved some of them along to circles, and observed as they failed to produce anything better than my past 4 year’s worst circle. Instead of keeping them to my lofty standards though, I instead asked them the title of this post: “Are you happy with that?” and they almost always said yes. Which surprised me. But then I knew how lightly to point out areas that were subpar, and where to congratulate them for their improvements and hard work. Their response let me know what their own standards were, so I could meet them there instead of leaving them far below my own. I found it to be an extremely valuable question and learning tool for myself and the students. If they were “happy with it” and it was horrible, then I could point out ways they could improve that may increase their happiness with it. I let them know what “better” to shoot for, instead of just criticizing their impressive progress. I learned that questions can operate both as encouragement and instruction. They allow the student to engage by considering their emotions/experience and formulating a response and thus allow the teacher to gauge how the student is progressing. I wonder if the best teacher asks just as many questions of the students as the students ask of him. Such as: “Is that how you should be holding the knife?”

Yes… the third grader got a knife…

and it was just as sharp as every other brand new XActo blade I brought for the workshop. It’s a good thing I’m actually a top-tier crafter, because the Church didn’t have a single knife to contribute. Only when preparing for the meeting did I realize that I have an actual arsenal’s worth of craft knives after my years of collecting and Christmasses. So I nerded out about knives to these boys for 10 minutes, explaining the different types and trying my best to teach them a little safety before handing them out like I had the rulers and scissors. When it did come time to hand them out, a Mom kindly (and quickly) stood up and started helping supervise the boys’ hand placement and pressure usage. No matter how long I’d talked about the knives, it didn’t matter. They would never know what the right amount of pressure and pull was until they started actually cutting. Neither would they have a subconscious understanding to KEEP YOUR HAND OUT OF THE PATH OF THE KNIFE. Nor would they necessarily know how to hold them, or even which side of the blade cuts. So with acute spectating and guidance, we got them all cutting straight lines, trying our best to keep the table from collecting cuts (I had two large cutting mats, but they didn’t get full coverage… I’ll get more for next time). Then moved on to curved cuts, while all the while we were nudging their hands further and further away from the path of the blades. Some moments we just had to be like “no. you just… that’s wrong.” and it’s okay, because we had set a precedent of communication with the first two tools. They understood to listen and learn, because I know what’s best 99% of the time with these tools.
Knives went surprisingly smoothly, with nobody getting cut. Sadly though, we were really patient with their experimentation, and only left 15 minutes for all of…

Hot Glue Guns.

Nope, they weren’t sitting out heating up this whole time, so the boys went over to my armoire and plugged their choice gun into the nifty array of extension cords I’d strapped underneath the table. Then while the guns were heating up, I passed around a scrap box of cardboard and started giving another speech. I showed off my array of guns, including the wireless variety (which they found as cool as I first had) and all the types of sticks I have (fabric, glow-in-the-dark, glitter, full-size length and drying speed variations, etc.). I took so long talking about it that a couple kids started gluing before I finished. I paused them to get across one point: when the hot glue touches you: rub it to dry it faster. Which I think is key. Because no matter how hard you try and stay out of the glue’s path… it will get you eventually. With my limited time, I therefore emphasized what to do when it does happen instead of going on about how to make it not happen. (Little did they know, I touch hot glue to smooth it out all the time when it’s still hot. Really, it’s about timing and knowing when it’s cool enough… but they don’t need to experiment with that yet) Even with only a measly five minutes of gluing, the boys constructed a greatsword, a helmet, and dual shields. It was incredible to watch. And nerve-wracking to watch the parents accumulate in the doorway, knowing my time had run out 6 minutes ago. When I panicked about time aloud though, one Dad gestured to his kid and said “nah, he can stay” so I wrongly assumed the other parents would be fine with it running a little later. Now I know to watch the clock closer, and have the kids ready to leave on time, instead of literally starting entire projects at 7. Time management is always a learning curve.

Thankfully, I did get to ask part of the exit ticket idea I had prepared.

The goal was to field any criticisms and feedback the kids had before they told their parents all about it. Then if there was anything negative, I could address it instead of losing a member. However, I ran over time instead of bringing everyone back together as I’d hoped. So instead, I asked each boy as he left “Did you have fun?” and “Did you learn something?” and they all noted affirmative. In future meetings I hope to be far more reflective of projects, and leave room for idea generation and getting to know each other. A third of the time will likely be spent on growing as a group as opposed to all of the time being spent towards individual skills and projects. I asked and answered wordily in the meeting’s agenda, “What might this club do next?: Field some ideas, encouraging the wild and seemingly unattainable ones. The bigger, the better. Explain the bargaining chip [the kids’] age and affiliation is, and how to utilize it when communicating to big business. We also would be providing a service at no charge to the businesses (unless they offer funding, of course) so there is only logistical stress provided by agreeing.” These big ideas could include anything from a school project day to collaborating with Little Caesars on an advertisement using their pizza boxes. I can easily imagine this group of boys making it onto local television as we create more and more influential projects.

Just you wait and see.