Making Makes Meaning

When children pick up the hot glue gun, many are drawn in simply by the prospect of using this oft forbidden tool. Others have made a search of the junk box and are intrigued by something they've found there. In Angie's case, she had found the plastic housing for one of my asthma inhalers. 

I'd collected a dozen or so of them, run them through the dishwasher, then dropped them in the box only that morning. As usual, several of the children had chosen to construct with them. I've found that children find these particular artifacts uniquely compelling. Perhaps it's because most of them have no idea what they are, which allows them to be anything. 

One boy, immediately identified them as "cannons," then used several them on the "fort" that this idea inspired. He talked of "blasting" invading aliens, pirates, and other assorted baddies as he worked.

Another boy used one as an engine for his rocket. He'd been inspired to make a rocket by a paper towel tube. Discovering the inhaler shell was the final touch. 

If Angie knew what she was making, she didn't say. All we know is that she wanted to use that inhaler. We know because she had said, holding it up, "I'm going to use this." She then spent the morning on her project. Starting from that inhaler, it grew over the course of an hour, taking shape in the way only hot glue gun projects can, into an elaborate landscape? Building? Artwork? People kept guessing. She neither confirmed, nor denied, but rather listened to each guess almost as if she was considering whether or not she agreed.

At the end of the day, we ask the children if they want to take their projects home. It's always surprised me that most don't. They know that if they stay at school we're going disassemble them and return the still usable parts back to the junk box for future projects. Maybe that's why so many are okay with having their work destroyed: they can always make it again tomorrow. After all, for many, the "making" is the fun part.

Angie wanted to take hers home. Her mother, upon seeing it, turned to me bemusedly, "Is that one of your asthma inhalers?" 

A couple days later Angie brought her project back to school. I figured she was ready to dismantle it and start over, but instead she only wanted to repair it. This happened several times over the course of the next few weeks until her mother bought Angie her very own hot glue gun for home use. I never saw that construction again.

Years later, I ran into her mother at the supermarket. She said, "I actually think of you every day," but before my chest swelled too much, she added with a kind of sneer, "I still can't get Angie to throw out your damned asthma inhaler!" 

Making makes meaning. Making makes something, anything, matter.

******

I've been writing about play-based learning almost every day for the past 15 years. I've recently gone back through the 4000+ blog posts(!) I've written since 2009. Here are my 10 favorite in a nifty free download. Click here to get yours.

I put a lot of time and effort into this blog. If you'd like to support me please consider a small contribution to the cause. Thank you!