Let the (Scary, Painful) Games Begin!

Friday, June 9, 2006

Page 15

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

Let the (Scary, Painful) Games Begin!

By J’AMY PACHECO

If you’ve spent any time around elementary school students, you’ve probably seen something I like to call “end of the year insanity.”

Perhaps it’s the long, sunshiny days at this time of year that have a bizarre effect on children. Or maybe it’s the giddiness that comes from thoughts of three whole months spent watching television, playing games, riding bikes and learning absolutely nothing of value. (I’d suspect the cafeteria ladies of getting even for nine months of noise, chaos and food spills by putting something nefarious into the midday meals, but most of the kids I know won’t eat cafeteria food, and are still mildly insane.)

Whatever it is, it makes kids crazy at this time of year. Ask any teacher — I think they’ll back me up.

This end of the year insanity first came to my attention when my daughter was in first grade. She came home one day and reported the bathrooms at her school — then only in its third year of operation — were haunted.

Within days, this rumor had spread through the entire student body. Even normally well-behaved kids reported things moving (besides the obvious, I mean) in the bathroom, and before long, the older kids banned the younger students from the restrooms while they ghost-hunted.

When the hysteria grew to nearly the intensity of the Salem witch hunts, the principal quashed the rumor that his dead (and non-existent) daughter was buried under the stage, banned ghost talk and sent the kids home for the summer.

Fortunately, they returned in September fully recovered.

I was reminded of that episode a few days ago when my daughter, now at the tail end of her fourth grade year at a brand new school, told me about a new “game” some of the kids were playing. It’s called “Zap,” and works like this: students attempt to grab other students’ hands, and write something on them. If they succeed, the student whose hand was written on has to say whatever the writing student already has scrawled on their own palm.

Naturally, the word or phrase that the victim student has to say is something that would land them in trouble – either a dirty word, or a nasty or insulting phrase. Yikes.

My daughter, who is smaller than many of her classmates, assured me that nobody had written on her hand. But it took some work to persuade her that if a student did succeed in writing on her hand, she did NOT have to say whatever they had written.

Fortunately, the proctors were on top of the situation, and immediately put an end to Zap. Just in time, because one of the students reported escaping a classmate who, having failed to write on the reporting student’s hand, tried to write on his neck.

Although frightening from my grown-up perspective, these games are not new. I remember being deathly afraid of a “game” that was played in junior high, when a group of students would knock another student to the ground, pull up their shirt and slap the victim’s stomach until it turned red. The game was called “Pink Belly.”

Today, I suspect it would be called “Assault.” It’s incomprehensible to me that such a game could have taken place — repeatedly — on a public school campus. It’s been decades since I saw a pink belly delivered after school one day, but I still remember how scared I was, and how fast I ran to the bus.

Most schools now have a “hands-off” policy that forbids students having physical contact. It sounds like overkill, but it’s an unfortunate necessity.

I just learned that a new game immediately surfaced to replace “Zap.” This one involves two kids locking hands as if preparing for a “thumb war.”

Instead of trying to pin their opponent’s thumb, however, participants in the game dig their thumbnails into that sensitive skin between their opponent’s thumb and index finger, and keep it there until someone can’t take the pain any longer and shouts, “Scorpion!” My daughter reported that two boys managed to draw blood before the proctors caught onto the game and banned it as well.

There are eight days left in this school year, and I can’t help wondering what new game will take the place of “Scorpion.”

To be honest, I’m kind of hoping somebody will spot a ghost in the bathroom. That hysteria seems almost tame compared to today’s playground games.

Too bad this new school doesn’t have a stage…