Categories: Teacher Experiences & Reflections
The Name Game
By: Sharon Sirkis
On the first day of T’ai Chi Chih class at the University of Maryland Baltimore County, (UMBC), about 25 students quietly enter the room. With anticipation, expectation, and even uneasiness, they slowly settle in. I know this silence will not last for long. We all sit in a circle on the floor while I go over the logistics of the class, i.e., only one absence allowed. I tell them I’m a different kettle of fish, unlike most of the instructors they’ve ever had.
After the logistics, we start a discussion on emptying your cup. At first it’s like pulling teeth. I often forget how self-conscious students are and how most prefer to remain quiet on the first day. One brave student says emptying your cup means keeping an open mind.
Bingo! It’s the perfect segue to the first exercise, the Name Game. At first glance, the Name Game is an ice breaker to help me learn the students’ names. I always keep in mind the student who told me how much she appreciated how I took the time and effort to learn everyone’s names, how she wasn’t just another number. But as you’ll see, it’s really much more. Here’s how it goes:
First you introduce yourself to the class by saying your first name. Then you take the first initial of your name and match it up with the first letter of an item that you will bring to an imaginary party. For example, I start off and say, “My name is Sharon and I’m bringing surprises.” (Ideally, what you bring should tell us something about you; your interests, your hobbies, etc.). At this point, there are moans, groans, and rolled eyes from the class. So I decide to take it one step further! Now, each student has to go back to the beginning, and introduce the first person, in this case me, and say what they’re bringing to the party, and do that for each person in order until it’s their turn. So, for example, let’s say Brian was sitting to my left, and Amanda was sitting to his left. I’d start and say, “My name is Sharon and I’m bringing surprises.” Now it’s Brian’s turn: He says, “You’re Sharon and you’re bringing surprises. I’m Brian and I’m bringing books.” Now it’s Amanda’s turn. She starts at the beginning with me: “You’re Sharon and you’re bringing surprises. You’re Brian and you’re bringing books. I’m Amanda and I’m bringing art.” And the next person after Amanda would do the same thing, always going back to the beginning and starting with me. It is at this point that practically all the students are looking at me with daggers in their eyes, and I feel waves of hate wash over me. (You’re probably thinking right now: “…and no wonder!”) I tell the class that there’s always a method to my madness, although they may not realize it at the time. I tell them that it’s O.K. to help each other out, and to try to have fun. I remind them to empty their cup and do their best.
At first I notice the different reactions. Fear, dread, anxiety, and nervousness. Especially the student on my right, who realizes he has to introduce every single person in the class. Eventually, he recognizes the value of hearing the information 24 times. I secretly smile, thinking how I’ll connect the dot in regards to the value of repetition in their T’ai Chi Chih practice. The student to my left forgets my name. “It’s pretty bad when you can’t even remember your teacher’s name,” I say. The class laughs and the ice has been broken.
Creativity flows throughout this exercise. Students bring bundles of jasmine, sprockets, energy, kids, trees, and beer to the imaginary party. Some students easily rattle off names and items like an auctioneer. Others try to cheat, hiding behind fellow students while they scribble names down. My favorite is the student who’s up next, muttering to himself, and bobbing his head up and down, like one of those dolls in the back of a car.
The Name Game finally comes to an end. All eyes fall upon me. Some have rather a smug look, like: “You made us do this, now you better do it too!” Usually there’s one student who’s bold enough to say, “O.K., now you do it!” So I laugh and take my turn. Sometimes I forget, just like they do, and sometimes I’m right on. Once, I surprised them by saying last names as well.
After the game is over I ask: “How many people were afraid or nervous to play this game?” Most of the hands rise. Then I ask: “How many people let their perfectionism, fear of being wrong, or making a mistake, get in their way? Some hands rise. “Just for grins,” I ask, “Is there anyone who thought this game might be fun?” Only two people raise their hands.
As you might imagine, there are some very funny moments that have come out of this game. One student named Anders said he was bringing an aneurysm, because he said he got one trying to remember all the names! Another student suggested I do the exercise with my eyes closed. Yes, I felt the fear and did it, and I got about one third of the way. Yet another student who was forgetful with names, said to me, “I saw ‘Guacamole’ the other day!”
Having fun, letting go of stress and tension, listening, paying attention, repetition, patience, persistence, and discipline, are all lessons from the Name Game that we include in our TCC practice. Througout the game, I pay attention and notice the similarities it has with TCC practice. Some students get it right off the bat, no problems at all. Some students get frustrated and angry and say, “I can’t,” without even trying. Their fear and/or perfectionism get in the way. Other students push through with a bit of a struggle. They understand the value of persistence and determination. For students who struggle with their TCC moves, sometimes I’ll refer back to the item they’re bringing to the party. For example, if Greg brings a guitar, I can mention that most likely he already knows the value of patience, persistence, and practice. If Tessa brings a tree, I can talk about letting go of tension by telling the story of the sturdy oak and the flexible bamboo.
As you might imagine, the Name Game can be time consuming. It takes roughly an hour to complete the game with 25 people. Since the winter classes are in three hour time blocks, this poses no problem. For the summer two hour time blocks, I may divide the exercise between the first two classes. I just ask the students to look at who they’re sitting next to, and keep that same order for the next class. However, my preference is to do the whole thing at once, so the students don’t have to sweat it for the next class.
The Name Game brings a group of individuals into a cohesive unit fairly quickly. It’s also a way to expand the student’s comfort zone. And it expands mine as well, since it’s not a comfortable feeling having most everyone against me when I announce the game.
My favorite funny moment was once during the game, when a student got up and walked out. I assumed he went to the restroom, but then he didn’t come back. Thinking he dropped the course, I was surprised to see him at the next class. He told me he thought the game was totally irrelevant, so he decided to take his one absence that day. Unbeknownst to him, we had stopped the game halfway through the class due to time. When I told him he had just wasted his absence for nothing and that he was still in the game, he suddenly looked like a deer in the headlights. I really wanted to burst out laughing, but I didn’t. He needed the gym credit so he stayed in the class. I felt his anger was really fear, and he actually did fine with the names. He seemed to enjoy the rest of the class, although I sensed he was irritated with me since day one.
On the last day of class after Show and Tell, (see VFJ June 2000), I announce we’re going to come full circle. We play the Name Game but in an easier way. I say everyone’s name and ask the group to remember the item they were going to bring. Everyone shouts it out one by one as I go around the circle. There is laughing, excitement, and fun all around. They surprise themselves that they still remember weeks later into the course.
By this time, most of the students understand the purpose and merit of playing the game. But I must confess, that on occasion I’ll question myself as to whether I should continue the game. So it was no accident that shortly thereafter, one student told me the best part of the course was that he felt comfortable enough with everyone in the class to do the T’ai Chi Chih moves without inhibition, because of the beginning exercise, and activities of sharing. He obviously got the point, and the games will go on!
Topics: Colleges and Universities, Humor, Letting Go, Running a Class, Starting Out, Teaching Beginners
Originally appeared in: March 2002
