Paging Roy G. Biv
Scene: kindergarten classroom, story time.
Players: kindergarten teacher, eager students.
Witnesses: school principal, me.
Teacher, holding up book: “Look at the bird on this page, everyone. Can anyone tell me what color this bird is?”
Several eager arms shoot straight into the air. Teacher calls on a student who proclaims confidently “Red!”
Teacher: “Hmm, no, not red. Anyone else?”
Several more arms in the air. Teacher calls on another student who announces, with equal confidence, “Orange!”
Teacher: “No, not orange. Who can tell me what color [emphasizing this, as if the kids have been answering the wrong question] the bird is?”
Silence.
The principal and I exchange glances. We can’t see the book, but we’re wondering about this bird, too.
Teacher: “Anyone? Who knows what color the bird is?”
Silence.
Teacher, sadly: “No ideas? Well, it’s red-orange!”
Principal (under his breath, as we leave the room): “She and I will have a little talk later…”
That is so funny, and yet so horrifying. It must have been very difficult for you to restrain the urge to slap that woman silly. I’m having that urge, and I wasn’t even there.
That’s got to be one of the most baffling exchanges ever. I can imagine a number of children sitting there, thinking, “I guess the word color doesn’t mean what I thought it meant…” I would have been tempted to answer “round.” I guess Ben won’t be going to that school!