Teaching Young Americans about Canada

Last Friday I took the ferry to Staten Island to visit PS 57, a public elementary school. I was scheduled to meet with two groups of kids in the after-school program, ranging from Grade 1 through 5. I had spent a lot of time preparing my presentation. I was going to tell them how Canada got its name, and discuss how important the beaver was to early trade. I'd gloss over the bits about colonialism, exploitation and how the beaver was killed for its pelts. I would tell them about hockey and lacrosse - a sport invented by the First Nations peoples, didja know? I planned to teach them Frere Jacques in English and French, and pass around loonies and twoonies while telling them how Canadians used to get a kick out of popping the centre out of the twoonie, and how the loonie has been considered lucky ever since someone placed one under the ice at the 2002 Olympic games, and the men's and the women's team won gold. So many stories! Well, it turned out that I prepared way too much material, because the kids were interested in other things. Like, do we have pizza in Canada? How about hamburgers? How long does it take to walk there? How do you get maple syrup from trees? (Luckily I had looked into this, just in case it came up. I also told them that kids in Canada pour sap on fresh snow and eat it; does anyone remember doing that?) The kids were a bit rowdy, as might be expected at 4.30 on a Friday afternoon, and erupted continously in chaotic chatter. Their supervisors were a bit ambivalent, and spent more time on their cellphones than paying attention to the kids, so it was left to me to commander their attention with hoarse calls of "Don't you want me to tell you something about CANADA?" But, it was a lot of fun, and the kids were pretty enthusiastic. The best part was how gung-ho they were about answering questions. Every single kid clamored to be called on, even if they had absolutely nothing to say once I chose them. One kid in particular shot his hand high up into the air after every question. I called on him a couple of times and couldn't figure out why he just smiled beatifically. The other kids let me in on the deal. "Carlos doesn't speak ANY English," they said witheringly. You still have to admire the spirit. Another kid was obviously very bright and asked me tough questions about Canada's relationship with Britain and past struggles over territory. I hadn't Wikapedia'ed that stuff! Two other kids slept the entire time. But, it was a real blast and I hope I get to do it again before I move back home. I'll pepper my spiel with stories about poutine and cartoons so I'll be sure to be a hit.