It all started when I pulled out the Presidential Cards I made a few years ago to offer a “Knowledge Challenge” in honor of Presidents Day for my Passport Kids. I love the spontaneous learning that happens during the conversations these challenges inspire.
The challenge was to put all the presidents in order, from Washington to Trump. As a bonus, I asked them to name the eight presidents who had died in office and how they had died. Over the years, I’ve found that presidential deaths are a great topic of conversation with kids, and they end up asking questions about all sorts of things. What can I say? If it works, keep working.
So in a moment geckoa precocious eight-year-old girl asks, “Why is there a mirror on the back of the last card?”
“That’s because we still don’t know who the next president will be, and one day it might even be you.”
Satisfied with my answer, she goes back to playing with the other children. I soon hear an argument begin over which of the children will be the next president. I ended the discussion with a spontaneous announcement. “We live in a presidential democracy, so if you want to be president, you have to run for office. Put your name on the board if you want to run and we’ll have an election.” As the children pushed around to write their names on the board, I scrambled to find my sticky notes.
“Okay, everyone who’s going to vote please come to the circle, so our candidates can give their campaign speeches.” Everyone wanted to play and almost everyone wanted to run. I introduced each candidate in turn. His speeches ranged from “If you vote for me, I’ll let people do anything as long as they don’t break the rules” to “Rain is made of dogs; rain is made of dogs; rain is made of dogs.” .
After their speeches, I handed out the sticky notes. The most common questions were: “Can I vote if I run?” and “Can I vote for myself?” To which I replied, “In a presidential democracy, you can. Everyone can vote, including me and Miss Lucy.”
We count the votes and announce the winners; Jerome was president and gecko he was vice president. I grabbed my Pocket Constitution, yes I am a nerd who carries a Pocket Constitution in my bag, along with some old coasters that he had donated and kept because they looked a bit like the awards. “Opening time,” I yelled.
“What is an inauguration?” one of the children asked.
“It’s when they take the oath of office,” I reply. “Come to see”.
As I hummed Hail to the Chief, I had everyone stand up and place their hand on the Constitution, swearing to “faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and to the best of its ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
Halfway through the ceremony, two of my other regular kids came in late due to basketball practice.
“What’s going on?” the ten year old Brian asked.
“We’re wearing our new president,” was the reply.
“I want to be president.”
“Too late, we already voted.”
“But I wasn’t here. I want to charge him.”
I informed him that only the House of Representatives can impeach the president.
“So I want to be that,” and as I put a quick diagram of the branches of our federal government on the board, the kids held a special election to fill vacancies in the House and Senate. They declared their intention to run, gave speeches, made promises, and finally voted.
Brian was voted in as fifth grade representative and immediately after his use, he got the House to impeach the president.
His joy dimmed a bit when I told him that the Senate had to hold a hearing to decide whether or not to uphold the impeachment trial, and in the meantime, Jerome was still president; then I told Jerome that he might want to add someone to the Supreme Court.
Jerome screwed up his face, looked around and said, “I miss you… YOU!”
“I think he has made an excellent choice and I promise to defend our Constitution. Now let’s see if the Senate approves his appointment.” The Senate did, and I let the president tire me out because we didn’t have other judges to tire me out.
Next, we held an impeachment hearing, and as hard as he tried, Brian couldn’t get the Senate to agree to impeach Jerome.
With the day almost over, the children demanded to know when the next election would be. “Well, I guess if we convert years to weeks, we should have our next election in two weeks for Representatives, six weeks for Senators, and four weeks for President and Vice President,” I told them. Not satisfied, gecko We asked if we could impeach the law, so we had a discussion about what is required to amend the Constitution. When they asked me how long I would be a judge, I proudly explained the meaning of life dating. Brian wanted to know all the powers he had as Speaker of the House, so I pulled out my pocket Constitution and before I knew it I had six heads in a huddle listening avidly to me as I read them parts of the Constitution.
Brian was delighted to learn that, as Speaker of the House, he was third in line for the presidency. He was also intrigued that in 1778, the year the Constitution was finally ratified, they spelled the word elect as chuse, sparking a new discussion about how languages evolve.
The saga will continue as we will keep this new game a permanent part of our after school program. It’s been over a week, and they still haven’t gotten tired of playing it and my Pocket Constitution is referenced daily. Also, I daresay my children know a bit more about how a Presidential Democracy works than some adults I know.
Games are really the best way to teach.
