One of the great things about young children is how unpredictable they can be even in the most predictable scenarios.
Point A and Point B may be defined clearly, but the journey between the two will be anything but linear.
So, sure, Hamilton Post account executive Jacqueline Barrett had won the 4th annual Adult Handturkey Drawing Contest before it even started once she slid her “Frozen”-inspired turkey across my desk. But no one would have guessed the process of crowning Queen Elsa would have included discussions about “Halloween toilets,” a mini-revolt and 5-year-olds inviting a complete stranger (me) to their homes.
That’s the beauty of this little tradition, though. I ask Kindergarteners for their opinion, and they always oblige, even if their answers don’t totally match the questions.
Last month, for the fourth consecutive year, I walked in front of a classroom full of 5-year-olds, and—even though it was mid-October—presented them with handturkeys created by the staff of the Hamilton Post. The students had a chance to critique each turkey before submitting a vote for their favorite.
This time, the class judged seven turkey drawings, all of which included the artist’s hand in some form. One person, in fact, submitted an “illustration” that merely was a photocopy of his hand. This entry was judged by the Kindergarteners to be “silly, silly,” and received a single vote.
Four other turkeys also received scattered votes and few comments. But the lack of support shouldn’t be confused with disinterest. In fact, the process turned out to be spirited from the start, with students greeting the drawings by shouting, “Wobble, wobble, wobble.” This, I guess, is Kindergartener for “gobble, gobble.”
The energy took a turn away from excitement, though, as the teacher unveiled some of the less popular turkeys first. Many students offered polite comments, like “Wow!” or “I like it,” on the works. But a few wanted nothing to do with the spin, and opted for bluntness.
One girl reacted to the first five candidates by saying, “I wish there was a SpongeBob turkey.” A small group of students started chanting “Power Rangers!” over and over, even though none of the drawings had a Power Rangers theme. Voter dissatisfaction had unsettled the classroom’s calm.
Luckily, benevolent Queen Elsa then swooped in to restore order. Well, kinda. All Barrett’s expertly crafted drawing did was transform the protest chants into shrieks of glee.
Adoration for Elsa lasted for 30 seconds—known in Kindergarten as “an eternity”—and once it waned, the class had no time for rest. No, the teacher had another contender for the students: a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turkey drawn by ad traffic coordinator Norine Longo. The class once again reached a fever pitch, mostly in the form of the boys in the class yelling “Yeah!” and punching the air.
The energy expended to support the two candidates made it clear the contest had narrowed to Barrett’s Queen Elsa turkey and Longo’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turkey—the Bush v. Gore of handturkey elections.
Just like in a grown-up general election, many of the students marching to the polls/blackboard lent support to one of the two favorites. And just like in a grown-up general election, there was a wise guy or two who decided to vote for Mickey Mouse. (Although, Mickey was actually a candidate in this race.)
In the end, Elsa nabbed 22 and the Ninja Turkey received 16 of 47 votes. A Lego turkey created by yours truly finished a distant third, with three votes.
Their victory official, the Elsa crowd rejoiced. But the celebration was short-lived, as the victors quickly fell silent when the teacher selected one of them to justify her vote.
The girl stood there, frozen (ha!), searching for the right words. “Uh, uh, uh, uh,” is all she could muster.
Just then, another student stood up and shared a shocking revelation.
“By accident, I liked the Ninja Turtle,” a boy said.
“By accident?” the teacher asked, “Or did you want to vote for the Turtle turkey?”
“No, I wanted to vote for the turtle,” he said.
This cleared up, the frenzy of post-election maneuvering continued when another boy stepped forward to file a protest.
“Elsa won,” he said. “I liked all of them except for Elsa.”
The teacher explained that this happens sometimes in elections, and though we may not like the results, we have to accept them. The boy nodded at the teacher, and said, “Let’s dance!” He salsaed around the room.
This seemed like as good a time as any to leave, but a girl cornered me before I could gather my things. She just had to tell me that she dressed as Superman last Halloween, and that she picked candy out of a toilet. She must have seen my quizzical look as she shared this information, because she began to clarify her statement immediately upon finishing it.
“It wasn’t a real toilet,” she said, “A Halloween toilet.”
Ah, makes sense now.
Before our time was through, the teacher handed me a folder full of handturkeys created by the class. These included a turkey that was more of a green squiggly line, and would fit right in with whatever they’re exhibiting at the Guggenheim now.
Sensing one last chance for an educational moment before I left, the teacher addressed the class.
“Now, boys and girls, Rob is a reporter for the newspaper, and what you did here today will be in the next Hamilton Post. Remember I told you what a newspaper reporter is? What do reporters do?”
“Teach turkeys!” they shouted.
Close enough.
Follow Rob on Twitter at @robanthes.
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