Few things make me more upset than being treated like a child. As I alluded to in my post earlier this week, I went to a conference last month on K-12 STEM Communication. It was great – I learned so much and I left feeling inspired to take on a couple new projects (more on that to come). But for five hours, I had the worst time ever and contemplated figuring out a way to put myself in the ER so I could have a valid enough excuse to leave. 

Our workshop of eight researchers joined a K-12 State Teacher conference that was taking place in the same city for an afternoon. We were each given a table of four teachers to sit with in the conference room. The goal was for us to chat with the teachers to see how we could support them in STEM education and how they could prepare their students for STEM in college. That was the goal. My table did not accomplish that. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

After we were each given our table assignments, the lady in charge of the teacher conference welcomed us, and told us to go around our table and introduce ourselves. Easy peasy, right? She added that we had to use our “orbital talking device” or some stupid name, and that two of the teachers had to explain it to us. Automatically, I was skeptical. 

One of the teachers at my desk grabbed a pink glitter wand. “This is our talking stick.” Then he passed it to another teacher. “You can only talk when you’re holding the talking stick.” She commented. I can’t quite remember if my eye roll was literal or just imagined. But I do know my first thought was I’m not five. I know how to take turns talking. With this having happened in the first five minutes, I knew the next four hours and fifty-five minutes would be very painful.

After we introduced ourselves and added comments holding a stick, the lady in charge had us watch a few videos on patterns and groupings, and we again had to give our thoughts to the group – but only if we were holding a glitter wand. Then, came the words I knew were on their way and yet was hoping that they were too grown up for. “Everyone stand up and let’s move some tables, we’re going to play a few games!”

Now, before everyone reading this thinks I hate games, I do. When they’re used in an adult educational setting. We were at a conference. At conferences, you are supposed to be learning. I would hate it just as much if games were suddenly implemented in my college classes. They still had 10 minute breaks every 2 hours or so, which is the perfect amount of time for an adult to get the wiggles out and get back to learning. But being forced to play a (admittedly, stupid) game makes me feel like I’m being treated like a child – that I am incapable of sitting still like an adult and paying attention. 

The talking stick had shaped my opinion of them, and they were only confirming it (but wait, it gets better). 

Now, I have always hated stupid “icebreaker” games, which I had to be a part of when I was a 4-H Shooting Sports Ambassador and we had meetings. But, to their credit, they gave me skills I never knew I would still need today…how to pretend you’re playing well enough that you don’t get in trouble for not participating, while at the same time putting in zero effort. 

There were three games, each one you had to mentally pick two people (which is amazing because you can always change your mind later). For the first one, you had to try and keep yourself an equal distance away from both people. I just walked around on the edge and moved right as she said stop, just in case they called on me to prove it. For the second, you had to label one person A and the other B, and keep A between you and B at all times. I was actually shoved into the hallway at this point, which worked well for me. Lastly, you had to get in between A and B as close as you could. As you can imagine, this caused everyone to be in a very tight circle. I didn’t participate and stayed on the edge. The lady in charge laughed and asked if anyone could have predicted that pattern. Yes. It was not that difficult to put two and two together. 

Finally, the three games were over and I started walking back to my seat. But wait! There was one more! We were grouped up with six people, and we had to put a hula hoop on top of the back of our index fingers and lower it to the ground as a group. She didn’t say what height we needed to start at, but everyone scoffed at my suggestion of as close to the floor as possible, since no one else was doing that. It was painful and my group never succeeded. There were two people in particular who seemed to confuse up with down, and there were times they’d tell me to go lower, I would lower my hands to prove it wasn’t me and the hula hoop wouldn’t follow because it was being held up by the others. After four rounds, the painful game was over and I was one of the first to go sit back down. As the lady in charge did her wrap up, she asked us if she’d ever defined what height the hula hoop had to start from, and then told us it was impossible, we were set up for failure. While I highly doubt that, when she pointed out she never specified height, I just looked at the members of my table, who were suddenly avoiding eye contact. Only a few more hours to go. 

To be continued…

If you are not 100% sure that you’ll go to Heaven when you die, now is the time to repent and put your trust in Jesus Christ. If you have any questions or doubts about your salvation, click here to learn how you can be saved!

Let me know if you have any comments or suggestions below or you can contact me here! I love hearing from you!