One Nation Under God, Invisible....

That’s how kids think the pledge to our nation’s flag goes… “and to the Republic, for Richard Stands.  One nation, under God, invisible, with liberty and justice….

Our Word of the Day today was “invisible.”   So we were. 

As our day began, I drew attention to our vocabulary word, then I mysteriously went to the closet, pulled out an empty tub, and cradled it in my arm like it was heavy.  “Class, I’m going to give each of you a can of Invisibility Spray.  When you receive your spray can, I want you to start at the top of your head and spray all the way down to your feet. Then count backwards from ten.  By the time you get to zero, you will be invisible.”  The word invisible I pronounced with as much flair and mystery as I could muster.  My voice was a near whisper.

One very observant student said, "I don’t see any spray cans.”  I met his challenge with, “Of course you don’t.  They’re INVISIBLE.”  OK, they were game.   I could see it on their faces.  I had my hook.  Each one reached out small hands to receive his or her “can,” then commenced to start spraying themselves down.  I lead the way.  We of course had to make the “Shhhhhhh” spraying sound with our mouths, as the invisible cans are also silent (everybody knows THAT).  We somberly began counting down from ten, as if we were entering the unknown and couldn’t predict what the outcome might be.  Would our state of invisibility be permanent?  We just didn’t know….

“three….two…..one.”  I gave a slight shiver and then a quiver and then sighed, like I was relieved the transformation was over.  “There!”   I declared definitively.  “We’re invisible!”  Seven little heads turned to look at a neighbor.  “How come I can still see everybody?’’ Drat.  I knew that one was coming.   “Because we’re ALL invisible. Only those that are invisible can see other invisible people.”  Well, that makes perfect sense to a seven-year-old.  They were almost buying it….

All of a sudden, one jumped up from the table and ran pell-mell to the mirror by the door.  “Mrs. Dahl, why can I still see myself?”  a disappointed little voice wanted to know.  Six invisible bodies charged to the mirror to see for themselves.  “Yeah!” one demanded.  “We can see ourselves!”  Doubt was trying to turn them against me.  Think quick, Mrs. Dahl….

“Because I sprayed the entire room before you arrived this morning.  Everything in here is invisible to everyone but us. “ Seven clomping sets of feet headed back to the table.  Mister Realist says matter-of-factly (and a little disappointedly), “We’re not really invisible.   Are we?”    It was both a challenge and a question.  I’m sure the twinkle in my eye confirmed the truth, but I never let on.  For the rest of the day we would live the life of an invisible first grader. 

We made a sign for our door that warned the Non-Invisible, “Don’t be alarmed.  Today the first grade is invisible.”  That way, when the uninformed amongst us peeked in our door and saw pencils floating mysteriously in the air, they wouldn’t think that they were losing their minds or that the spirit world had taken over.

When the janitor came to claim our trash, she came in laughing about our sign and wanted to know where the kids were just then.  I told her the best way to find them was to shout out “Marco Polo” and just follow the sounds of their voices, which she gamely did.  It must have seemed odd to anyone passing by in the hall to hear an adult voice yelling, “Marco!”  And seven joyous children answering, “Polo!”  in the middle of a school day (then again, there are often odd sounds coming from the first grade room).

Our line at the hall water fountain produced warnings to students passing by not to bump into our unseen bodies.

When my second grade reading students came in for intervention time, they were accosted by the disembodied voices of their first grade chums.  I explained our adventure to them and then challenged them, “Well, can you see any of them?”  Completely serious faces shook their heads no.  “We’re a little crazy in first grade,” I apologetically explained.  “Tell me about it,” was the retort of one.  The classmate to her right exclaimed, “I want spray!” 

We carried our charade clear to the end of the day.  By the time it was Headin’ Home time, every first grader could give an adequate definition of the word invisible and half of them could spell it near perfect.

I think tomorrow’s word of the day will be…….

Silence… :)