Paper Crane Magic

Recycling is far down the list of priorities for developing countries like Iraq. Since my first teaching day, though, I've been amassing a stack of scrap paper in my black storage box- photocopies, old lesson plans, and so on- and the stack is growing cancerously. Useless though it may be, it pains me to have to throw all this paper away. What to do with all this paper?

An idea has been smoldering in the back of my mind for a few days now, and today, I finally put my saving scrap paper plan to action: I dug out the cheap set of watercolors I'd found at one of the “malls” here, and set to work cutting the papers into perfect squares and painting them beautiful shades of  purple, blue and pink bleeding into each other. After waiting a few minutes for the paint to dry, I started folding and soon, a tiny, graceful paper crane sat in the palm of my hand.

I had learned how to make origami cranes one summer in Korea. It was one of the 3 skills I picked up specifically during my summers in Korea in the days of yore, along with hula hooping and Korean jacks. My aunt showed me and my siblings how to make them, telling us the related myth: if you make a 1000 cranes, and then make a wish, it will come true. I never made it past 500 or so, but I still have those cranes I folded so long ago out of cool fractal-ish origami paper you could buy at the local toy shop. 

Who knew such a random skill would come so in handy more than a decade later? My 2nd graders are currently learning their times tables, and I had to think of a way to get them to practice practice practice! And so I offered them a prize: If they could memorize all the tables from 1's to 12's, then I would give them extra stars and a paper crane. I held one up so they could see what they were in for, and the kids grew breathless with excitement. Just as, more than a decade ago, my aunt told me the myth of a 1000 cranes, I related the myth to my kids in an enticing, mysterious voice, and the effect was amazing. Now, my cranes are all the rage among my 2nd graders as well as my KG's, whom I'd also brought into the origami fold. 

Not gonna exaggerate- for some kids, the excitement was ephemeral, and as soon as they went home, their motivation to practice multiplication tables was lost despite the unique prize. But for others, the crane incentive has had a radical effect. One kid memorized all the way up to 12's plus some squares (13*13, etc.), and the most brilliant one in the class memorized all the tables and all the squares up to 21*21. That was magical, the day I tested him in front of the entire class. Others have tried, and though they still make mistakes and hesitate, I can tell they are working hard for that crane. Paper cranes must hold some sort of magical property. 

Lately, I've been having a really tough time controlling my KG class. I don't know what happened, but they just don't shut the hell up anymore for more than a minute. Frustration mounted to a dangerous level, very dangerous, but now it's cooling down again, and I'm starting (again) to accept the fact that 5-year-olds have the attention span of a goldfish, and there is little I can do about it besides continuously bribing them with stickers, and now, cranes. For a long time, I detested the idea of having to teach them by bribing- it seemed an unhealthy way of developing a child's morale: “be good, only because you want that sticker!” Like holding a carrot in front of a donkey's nose. Wasn't it unhealthy to play on a child's greed? 

But the way one of the teachers here explained it made sense: at that age, they only understand external rewards, and they've yet to internalize it. Or something. It made sense at the time. The idea is that you're training them to be good, at first with tangible rewards, and slowly they will get used to acting “good” and you will no longer need those external rewards. Shoot, even my 2nd graders need external rewards like stars and cranes. I guess it takes a while.