Of rocks and camels

I carried a basket in my hands on the first day of school. I asked the students to guess what was in the basket. Of course, they all predicted that it contained sweets and treats. When I revealed the contents, a pile of rocks, they all looked disappointed. Their faces became even more despairing when I described the next task: Pick a rock and explain why you chose this rock and one thing that you and the rock have in common.

I explained to the class that I picked these rocks from my recent travels to the ancient cities of Chinguetti and Ouadane. I selected a rock and shared a story about why this particular rock was important to me. I was subsequently very relieved when each student picked a rock and started talking amongst themselves and bragging about the qualities of their individual rocks (I never know how well students will cooperate with my requests, especially when teaching ADULTS).

One by one, the students came to the front of the class to present their rocks. They each provided powerful examples of how the rocks reminded them of their childhoods. I was surprised to hear the students' strong connections to these rocks, although upon reflection of course I shouldn’t have been. 

One student showed the class how a rock with a reddish tint can be used as a sort of crayon to write on other rocks. He described how he used these same rocks to draw and make pictures. As he was talking, I was thinking about how he probably didn't have access to paper and markers, the way that most kids in the U.S. would have. 

One of my most shy students shared a wonderful story about how as a child he played with small rocks, exactly like the one he selected from the basket, to symbolize camels.  When I asked him to explain how, he showed the class how he lined the rocks in a row and moved them one by one, as in a caravan. 

The rest of the class nodded along and it was clear that many in the room grew up playing  the same game. The imagery was so vivid that suddenly I saw this student as a boy in front of me, playing with his camels. For a few moments, we were all transported to our youths.

Next, a student told us how she used the rocks in a game, similar to the American game of jacks. I made a video of three little girls playing this game during a recent visit to Fouta:




Another student picked a rock that had three colors and then showed us how his skin in the palm of his hand, forearm, and fingernail contained the exact same three colors.

I was surprised to hear that the students from every part of the country (from Atar to Kaedi, Nouadhibou, Kiffa, Ayoun, and Nema) described playing with similar rocks as children. Although my students represent all regions of Mauritania (and all ethnic groups), these rocks represented a commonality between all students.

By the end of the activity, I was speechless. I was so touched that I didn't even remember to explain to the students why I brought these rocks to class in the first place: To share my summer travels with each student (by giving them a very small souvenir to take home), provide a talking point for each student to discuss, and model how, as teachers, they can use anything (something as simple and abundant as rocks) as teaching aids. The students' own responses to the rocks were much more significant than anything I ever imagined.

As always, the students' creativity, imagination, and sincerity surpassed my expectations by leaps and bounds. They transformed what potentially could have been a silly and fun activity (or worse) into a truly meaningful opportunity for sharing and learning more about ourselves and each other. I adore my students and feel honored to know each and every one of them, as different from each other as every unique, beautiful rock.