Thiensville, you should have met with even one teacher before your parade. Actually, anyone doing anything ever that involves kids should check with the masters. We’ll tell you what will and what won’t work. Loose candy? Doesn’t work. It’s like a homerun ball sent into the stands. Get ready for pushing, injury, aggression and someone’s eye being put out. No matter how much churching, lecturing or reminding... flying candy and a crowd of kids? Not gonna work. Kids are all alpha dogs when it comes to airborne free stuff. Not all, mind you…there are those kids who shrink off to the sides or cover their faces with blindfold hands in this kind of situation. What the chaos theory of doling does, unfortunately, is to reward the already pushy children or the kids whose parents egg them on to get some of the candy they weren’t able to catch when they were kids. It’s hard to watch yours get nothing when the little brat in front of you has three pieces already.
But, Port Washington? Way to go. You must have had good advisement. Parade participants there just walk up to the kids and hand out the candy. It’s clear; “See this candy? It’s yours, here take it. And you, running up from the back of the crowd with your right arm stuck out, waving your hand like the one who has the answer? Watch yourself so not get a piece.” Now that’s how to run candy distribution.
Something happens with children, even children who come from wealthy homes, when getting something is involved. Children who ride to school on motorized scooters with Corinthian leather pack packs are capable of acting like complete jerks when anything is given out. This is not just a food issue. You can be handing out anything and there are kids who have to get their paper first, the markers first, their favorite chairs in their favorite spots at their favorite tables. They want the first napkin at snack time and to be first in line no matter whom they have to negotiate with, intimidate or shove. Something happens whenever first is involved. We may have caused that by telling children when they misbehave to “Go to the end of the line!” This automatically makes the front desirable. I digress.
Here’s an idea. Forget the candy. Kids don’t need it. For many, that’s all too clear. If kids can’t be excited just by seeing a parade, you have to decrease the amount of good stuff they get at home. The big argument I get around this from my colleagues is that children look forward to the candy toss, it‘s fun and they enjoy it. The kids that catch something enjoy it. The ones that don’t just take that one-more-brick-of-reasons-to-be-bitter and add it to incident bullet vests to use at some later time--maybe when they are teachers, handing out candy.
Children can get excited by anything. You can have five purple napkins and the rest yellow. The five become the desired. With kids, whatever there is not enough of becomes the objet du désir, like single men to baby boomer women. Parades are fun for kids because they go with people they love to be with, see the streets emptied of cars and full of big color, sound, and something different. It‘s a break from normal.
Take it from teachers; it’s never about what can be caught in an open hand.
