Most picked-on kids fantasize about having the playing field leveled for them, and to have quick wits, sound reflexes, and physical skills eliminated as potential tools for success. But then, most picked-on kids (believe me) also fantasize about having their tormentors boiled down to fat and bone. It's never a good idea to over-indulge the fantasies of children. Children are natural fascists.
(It's a very close cousin to the policy of non-contact, where kids are barred from horseplay and wrestling and play-fighting, which is a recipe for kids who don't understand boundaries, because they've never been tested, and who don't know their own strength. The worst, most damaging acts of violence I remember witnessing as a kid were often committed by the coddled, repressed bow-tie kids who suddenly go all Keyser Söze one day and do something like bite the ear off a bully.)
This book has a few games perfect for that little emotional terrorist-in-training. Games like (and I am making none of these up):
- Strike The Pose
- A Chance To Be Nice
- Dances Of The Mind
- Talking Without Words
- Direct Me
- Make Me Into You
- Subtle Pressure
- Psychic Nonsense
- Emotional Relay Race
- What Did I Do?
- What Does This Mean?
- Do You Know Me?
- Where Were You?
- Hello, But I'm Gone
- Couples Sports
- Getting Together
- Clothes Switch
- Body Ball
- Down The Tube
- Down In The Hole
- On Your Knees
- In And Out
- Hit The Nail
- One Big Slug
- Use That Body
- Use That Rope
- Blow The Ball
- Don't Use Your Teeth
- Gyrating Reptile
- Hold That Floor
- No-Hands Ball Pass
- Snake In The Grass
- Smaug's Jewels
- Stiff As A Board
- Strange Positions
- Blanket Toss
- Blanket Volleyball
- Hawk And Mouse
- Move Softly
- Find Your Rock
- Rope Raising
- Probably Wet
- Tied Together
- Where Did It Go?
- Popcorn Balls
- Find Your Animal Mate
- Hug Tag
- Inuit Ball Pass
- Pull Together
- Try Not To Laugh
- Wheelbarrow
- Come Together
- All Of Us, All At Once
- Sleeper
- Casual Conversation
3 comments:
I think you forgot "hide the finger" and "name that smell" - two cooperative favourites of mine.
Wow, you certainly know kids today. Do you ever sound, um, I don't know...desperately new-anglo. That's my new term for your type, mister (you started it, bucko!). You're a New-Anglo. No, you're New World Anglo. Ah, fuck it. Damn, my kids are doomed coz they ain't the rascally kind. (Hope you're well, Whitlock.)
Peace and love be upon you, Ross.
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