Scavenger Hunt

For my sweet sixteenth birthday, a handful of friends came to my house and went on a scavenger hunt. One of those friends was Simon, a 17-year-old on whom I had a wicked crush. When we all dispersed to hunt for our list of items, Simon suggested we get in his car and go to another neighborhood to have a better chance of finding more items on the list. I hadn't ridden in many cars with boys that I liked, so I was thrilled to go with him. We were gone less than half an hour, but when we returned my father was furious with me. Dad had always been defined by his fears, and not knowing where his kids were or what they were doing was one of his biggest. He told me I had ruined the event by turning it into a joyride, instead of the innocent game it was supposed to be. Nevermind the fact that Simon and I hadn't so much as held hands yet.

When I suggested to my Advanced Conversation class that we do a scavenger hunt at the library, they mostly laughed nervously. Yuwei's eyes grew quite large, and Luz Alba nodded noncommittally. The word scavenge had come up in a discussion of how and why Americans have such a penchant for sweet foods. I was explaining one of the theories about human evolution, positing that early human ancestors scavenged food from carcasses left behind by more skilled predators. This idea, when combined with the theory that early human ancestors were arboreal fruit eaters, helps explain our cravings for fatty, sugary, high-calorie foods—cravings our minds may understand as no longer beneficial, but which our bodies have not yet outgrown.

Naturally, this led to my suggestion of a scavenger hunt.

All four of my students expressed trepidation. Van is intrinsically shy, even though she teaches math at the university. Yuwei isn't so much shy, though he lacks confidence in his ability to communicate with spoken English. Ying and Luz Alba are more gregarious than the other two, but even they were hesitant. Mentioning that a diaper might be on the list of items to ask people for only deepened this hesitation, especially for Yuwei, the only male in our class.

I crafted the scavenging list carefully through the week leading up to class. I wanted to be sure my students a) would have to talk to a variety of people to glean the desired items; b) would have to actually converse, not just point and say please; c) would not have such a difficult time as to become completely and quickly discouraged; and, most importantly d) wouldn't have to leave the library—especially to go for a joyride with a cute boy.

Here's what I came up with:

1. a diaper

2. a pen with any color ink OTHER THAN blue or black

3. an un-chewed stick/piece of chewing gum

4. a safety pin

5. a blank sheet of paper that is NOT white (any other color is fine)

6. written directions to the nearest gas station (NOTE: these may be written by you, but they must be dictated/given by someone else)

7. a library book about Ohio history or geography, OR a library book by an Ohio author

8. a quarter, dime, or nickel

9. a photograph of someone smiling (NOT someone from our class)

10. any part of any newspaper

Thursday evening, as I waited in the tiny conference room where our class usually meets, I wondered if anyone would show up. I had sent an email the day before reminding everyone to come prepared to talk to strangers. 5:30 approached, and I began to worry. What if they all just didn't come? What if they all simply decided it was easier to stay home, that it wasn't worth the possible embarrassment and public humiliation to humor their teacher and her silly little game?

I started to understand a little bit of my dad's anxiety on my sixteenth birthday.

Then Van showed up. She said she didn't know why she came, that she had thought about just staying home, but somehow decided to come anyway. She laughed nervously when she said it, but I know she really meant it. I showered her with praise and gratitude.

Luz Alba, Ying, and Yuwei arrived shortly after Van. They all echoed Van's sentiments in some way, surprised at their own courage to come and risk embarrassment. We spent a few minutes discussing the list; I wanted to make sure everyone recognized all of the items and understood how they were to go about finding them. I had to show them a safety pin, but other than that the items were clear. Then I turned them loose in the library.

I have rarely been so impressed. I hovered near the steps on the first floor, keeping time and watching the various methodologies employed by my resourceful students. Luz Alba immediately took the elevator to the second floor, her face a steely mask of determination. She works in a lawyer's office as a Spanish interpreter and paralegal, so she may have more experience approaching strangers than her colleagues here. She also clearly possesses a competitive drive the others lack. Yuwei approached the librarian's desk in the Science and Technology area with only the slightest of hesitation. I easily overheard the enthusiastic responses from the two women working there; one of them even went into the break room to get something from her purse for Yuwei. He was definitely charming them. I had suggested that a smile often goes a long way when talking to strangers; he had clearly taken this to heart.

Ying and Van took a bit longer to get started. I saw Ying wander for a while, seemingly trying to screw up enough courage to approach someone. Eventually, she went up to a squirrelly-looking older man working at a computer and showed him her list. My heart sank when I saw him shake his head no. But she persevered and seemed to have better luck with a burly security guard.

Van circled the floor once or twice, went upstairs and came back down. She returned to me several times throughout the half hour of the game, laughing nervously and claiming to just give up. I encouraged her to keep at it, giving her hints about where I had seen a stray newspaper lying on a table. When new people entered the library, I practically pushed her at them, telling her to ask them for a stick of gum. Eventually, Ying joined Van and me near the stairs, equally discouraged and running out of time. I told them I thought Luz Alba might be winning and that they still had five minutes to try and find their remaining items. Ying found a burst of courage still within her and said to Van, "Come on! Let's try again!"

My chest swelled with pride.

When it was all said and done, Luz Alba won the game. She was the first to come back and tell me she had completed her list. Upon inspection by the group, however, one item raised concern and had to be evaluated. The diaper. It seems no one in the library this evening had had a diaper. Yuwei said he just completely skipped that item, didn’t ask anyone for it. But Luz Alba is nothing if not resourceful. After asking four different women if they had one, to no avail, she had Googled "diaper" on a computer and printed a picture of one. We decided collectively that it counted. She had earned her $5.00 grand prize.

"Did anyone have trouble understanding you?" I asked the class after all the lists were verified and prizes awarded.

No, they all said, though they had had some difficulty getting the directions to a gas station.

"People talk so fast," Luz Alba said, as her classmates nodded in agreement. "I have to say 'wait, wait! Please! Slowly!'"

Several people had drawn very detailed little maps for the students. I asked them if they had had fun or if the entire experience was too frightening.

"Scary at first," Yuwei said. "But then better. Everyone is so nice here."

The others echoed his sentiment; the staff and patrons of the library had been very helpful and kind. I was immeasurably proud, not only of my students, but of my fellow Akronites. I had worried that the game would fall flat, that my students would end up totally frustrated and discouraged, that some crazy homeless person would cause a scene, or that one of my students would get assaulted or yelled at by an angry stranger.

But no one yelled or cried, no one suffered undue embarrassment, and no one left the library to go off somewhere in a car with a cute boy, leaving me with the kind of anxiety and apoplexy my dad suffered so long ago.

Furthermore, I believe my students were proud of themselves. They seemed surprised at their own abilities to communicate, once their jitters subsided. They could understand what people said to them, and others could understand them. I call that a total success.