BY MARION LEE CALDWELL

 

We had just finished juggling practice and I was leaving Ponderosa Elementary School with balls, clubs and rings tucked under each arm. I was tired and happy after an hour of coaching 20 children. Joyce, mother of one of my son's classmates, ran into me at the front door and asked how juggling class was going.

 

"Great!" I said. "The kids are really coming along."

 

"How then, is your schooling going?" she asked, "Aren't you about done?"

 

"I'll student-teach next fall," I replied. "I'm scared though, that there won't be jobs for new teachers with all the cutbacks. Oh well. I might just coach juggling full time."

 

She sighed, "I guess that's good. You know, not all children can become physicists and engineers. Its good for them to have something to do."

 

We parted and I was surprised to feel anger rising in me. I know that this particular mother could find fault in the sunrise, but still I was offended for my students. After all, I wasn't teaching circus skills to 20 children so they could all run away and join the circus. Why was I teaching them?

 

I teach them skills for life. My jugglers discover that they can approach almost any complex task by breaking it down into manageable steps. They know that learning requires taking risks and that often you fail many times before you get something right. My students learn patience, tenacity and the discipline of practice. They learn to keep trying.

 

Together we learn about rhythm and movement. My students experience patterns rather than just observe them. They develop confidence and a sense of control over their movements. Eye-hand coordination improves.

 

I challenge my students to raise the ceiling of their self expectations. At first, when introduced to a new juggling trick, some children will say, "I can't."

 

"Not yet," I tell them, "but you will." And then we get to work. Later, when these people are faced with difficult tasks they can remind themselves, "I learned to juggle four balls, and I thought that was impossible!"

 

My juggling students learn social skills, too. Many sports claim to develop teamwork, but throw children into a competitive arena. In our after-school program, though, juggling is a cooperative sport. Students work together to improve their skills. When students learn something new they often teach it to their teammates. When one child has a break­through with a particular maneuver, cries of glee attract others, and soon everyone is trying the trick. The children are proud to share their accomplishments, and the team is stronger for it. I model ongoing encouragement, and the students follow suit with each other. I always try to point out what is being done right, and then how something could be done a little better.

 

Some juggling tricks require exceptional co­operation. For example, the "two-headed monster" is performed by two teammates standing side by side, juggling three balls with their outside hands. In another skill, children stand facing each other and alternate large ball bounce-passes in a rhythmic juggling pattern. Five children in a circle can bounce-pass up to five balls in a star pattern without hitting. In another example, as one child juggles, another learns to steal and replace a ball without the juggler losing a beat. I teach six club passing to more advanced jugglers. Children who accomplish these feats together learn to count on each other. A nice camaraderie has developed amongst the Ponderosa Jugglers.

 

I'm not sure Joyce would appreciate the power in learning to learn. I might have tried a different tactic with her. For example, where else can the laws of gravity be so finely displayed? My students know what ball toss trajectory means. .They know that a three ball cascade pattern follows the path of an infinity symbol. All jugglers know that two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time.

 

Often children shine at juggling who don't shine in other school activities or competitive sports. I've observed hyperactive children thrive in this atmosphere of repeated motion. They practice tirelessly, soon overtaking their peers in skill acquisition. Even children with some physical disabilities can interact with classmates because the pace of one childs learning doesn't hinder anothers, as with many team sports. Students need not know English to learn how to juggle. What a great way to integrate foreign children as they learn our language!

 

I'm not really angry anymore. Six- to eleven-year-old children need to be intimately involved with the process of learning. That's what happens when I teach them to juggle. Besides, how many six-year-olds even know what a physicist is?

 

Of course, my juggling students may not become physicists and engineers - but then again they just might!

 

Caldwell is an IJA member who juggles with Denver's Jugglers With an Altitude club. He has been coaching elementary school children in the art of juggling for two years, and recently led them in their first assembly performance.