THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, October 6, 1995 TAG: 9510060041
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JENNIFER DZIURA, HIGH SCHOOL CORRESPONDENT
LENGTH: Long : 191 lines
NONE OF THE Tangu people of New Guinea have ever lost a game of Taketak. This isn't because the Tangu have the best coaches. It isn't because they practice hard. It isn't because they've studied the strategies of the game.
It's because no one wins or loses at Taketak, a game in which two teams spin tops made of dried jungle fruit at coconut spines stuck into the ground. The object is to prove that both teams are equal by playing to a tie.
``Where's the challenge in that?'' the average American sports fan might ask. But hitting the coconut fronds, or taketaks, is difficult. And to even up the scores, one team's goal may be to spin their tops without hitting any taketaks.
The idea of playing a game without trying to make others lose is exotic in the Western world. But researchers such as Terry Orlick, author of ``The Cooperative Sports and Games Book,'' lament that competitive games are unhealthy, especially for children.
Orlick says: ``Pitting children against one another in games where they frantically compete for what only a few can have guarantees failure and rejection for the many. . . . Children are encouraged to delight in others' failures. They hope for it, they help it happen, because it enhances their own chances of victory.''
Alfie Kohn, author of the 1986 manifesto ``No Contest: The Case Against Competition'' asserts that people can become physically fit, develop a sense of teamwork and camaraderie, and enjoy themselves without competition. Cooperative games are superior to traditional competitive games, he says.
So just what is a ``cooperative game?'' And what fun is a game without winners or losers?
So that these questions would not keep you awake at night, I researched cooperative games, assembled a group of local teenagers at the Great Neck Recreation Center and instructed them in the finer points of Cooperative Semicircle Soccer and Nonelimination Simon Says.
Here's what we discovered:
Semicircle Soccer: Semicircle soccer was adapted from a game called Konta Wai in Papua, New Guinea, where the participants bat the fruit of a local tree back and forth. Here we just use a soccer ball.
Groups of four or five players link their arms around each other's waists and attempt to kick the ball through another group's semicircle. When the ball flies away from the players, an entire human semicircle must run after it. One semicircle can maneuver behind another for an attack from the rear. If the players have tremendous energy, they can add another ball or additional semicircles to the game.
Lamar Williams, 12, thought semicircle soccer was more fun than regular soccer, but Katie Arnemann, 13, observed that ``we need to work as a team. Everybody kept pulling away.'' Liz Cox, 11, complained of bruises. Rachel Thorson, 13, was so exasperated by her uncooperative semicircle that she offered, ``I'll give you $3 to play a competitive game.''
Cooperative Volleyball: The idea behind cooperative volleyball is to eliminate pressure to serve or hit expertly and to give everyone more opportunity to participate. No one's goal is to make someone else miss the ball and feel bad about himself.
The game begins when the players choose sides. Instead of choosing teams (where someone must be chosen last), everyone just stands on the side of the net that they happen to like at that particular moment. It's OK if the teams are uneven, or if all the athletic types are pitted against a small cluster of 6-year-olds, because every time a player touches the ball, he runs underneath the net and joins the other team. No one bothers to keep score, because the teams are protean. Players can serve as often as they want to and can leave or join the game at will.
``It's cool because it's better exercise than regular volleyball,'' Katie said. ``Usually, all you do is stand there.''
Changing teams by running under the net appealed to some players. Chevon Vanson, 13, observed that because there's no motive to hit so that the other side will miss, the ball stays in the air longer.
The spirit of this game was demonstrated when one girl hit the ball, ran under the net and yelled to her friend on the other side: ``This is fun! Hang on, I'll be over there in a minute.''
The Long, Long, Long Jump: The object of this game, Orlick says, is ``for a group of children to jump collectively as far as possible.''
As games go, this one was a real washout. You try getting 25 young people to stand in line and wait their turn to contribute to a collective jump. The first kid jumped and everybody watched silently. The second kid ran about four feet (the length of the first jump) and jumped four more feet. Others followed suit, each remaining in the spot where he had landed. Then, the sixth jumper took off running and was tripped by the fifth jumper. The seventh and eighth jumpers were also tripped by the fifth jumper. Was the fifth jumper failing to appreciate the finer points of cooperative games?
The high point of the activity occurred during the ninth or 10th running start, when someone yelled ``Run, Forrest, run!'' triggering a string of similar references.
Nonelimination Simon Says: When Simon Says is played cooperatively, no one is ``out'' unless she gets bored and walks away.
This game is begun by selecting two leaders and dividing the players between them. The groups separate themselves by two or three meters and then play two separate games of Simon Says. If one leader commands her charges to ``Do four jumping jacks,'' and three people obey even though she doesn't say ``Simon says,'' those three people simply join the other game.
``This is a great way of playing Simon Says, because you always stay in the game,'' said Dale Fitzwater, 14.
``It was funner than the other Simon Says,'' agreed Wesley Spruill, 14, ``because you have to sit out then.''
The only problem with Nonelimination Simon Says (aside from the aseptic name) is that since no one gets eliminated, no one is really sure when the game is over.
``Everybody kept switching Simons and they lost interest,'' said Anney McCabe, 14.
Cooperative Assemble-the-Donkey: Each of us who has attended a children's birthday party has seen a blindfolded child attempt to affix a tail to a posted image of a donkey's hindquarters. The child who best locates the animal's posterior is proclaimed the winner.
To play the game cooperatively, one first needs a picture of a donkey. Maureen Thorson, a 16-year-old artist, cleverly drew a donkey on a sheet of poster board (complete with a blanket emblazoned ``Hee Haw Express''), which we cut into 16 pieces. The donkey's head was laid on the table as a reference point. The first child was blindfolded, spun around and given a piece of the donkey - in this case, an abdomen. The object of the game was for players to help the blindfolded person assemble the donkey properly.
``Turn it over!'' directed one child. ``No, around, not over.''
``Turn it counterclockwise. Now put it down and slide it left. No, the other left.'' continued the other.
Those who assembled the donkey thought the cooperative version of the game was much more entertaining than simply watching people foolishly pin donkey tails onto places other than a donkey's posterior. Aside from several young boys' gleefully comparing each other to the poster board piece that represented the hindquarters, this game went especially well.
Throughout the day, I recorded complaints and praises about cooperative games. Most of the complaints either pertained to organized activities in general, or to others not acting cooperatively.
Even Maureen the artist tired after a few games. ``C'mon, let's go play on the swings,'' she urged, mostly in jest. ``It's noncompetitive. You can't win on the swings.''
The latter difficulty was to be expected. When soccer was first introduced in New Guinea, participants considered it natural to play to a tie. When Eskimos first took up cross-country skiing, they tried hard to cross the finish line at exactly the same time. Similarly, those used to playing competitively may not catch on to the idea of cooperation.
``It depends on what kind of people you play with,'' said David Ekberg, 13.
Both of Orlick's books, as well as Jeffrey Sobel's ``Everybody Wins: 393 Non-Competitive Games for Young Children,'' provide a cornucopia of noncompetitive activities. Some of them, especially those adopted from obscure island nations, are a bit unrealistic. The description for Nuglutang begins ``. . . a spindle-shaped piece of caribou antler with a hole drilled through it is hung above the players' heads so that it dangles about shoulder height. The players stand around the target holding sharp rods, something like shortened pencils but made out of bone.'' Another game adopted from the Inuit involves harnessing dogs to blocks of ice.
Most suggestions, however, are fairly practicable.
Here are two more to attempt with some open-minded companions:
Cooperative Musical Chairs: When played cooperatively, the object is for all participants to be seated on the remaining chairs, even if there are 10 children and one chair. This means that no one has to be ``out,'' no one gets bored and no one has to belligerently shove his friends to the floor.
Even if stacking 10 small children on a single chair is an impossibility, the children are likely to amuse themselves in the attempt before wandering off in search of birthday cake.
Tug of Peace: In one cooperative version, a rope is tied in a big loop and is placed inside a circle of sitting participants. If everyone pulls on the rope at the same time, the opposing forces will pull the entire group to a standing position. Orlick, who romped with children from the Arctic and Indonesia to complete his books, claims that such cooperative games have several advantages over competitive ones. Aside from being more inclusive and less damaging to the self-esteem of the unathletic, cooperative games usually require little equipment, have no predetermined time limits on play and encourage participants to be concerned with the safety and enjoyment of others.
Since no one is out for personal glory, there is no motive to cheat or to injure anyone else. As a result, such games require less supervision than their competitive counterparts. Since no one wins or loses, there is not need to divide players according to age or ability; the very young, the very old, and the physically handicapped or disabled can all play amongst the more athletic.
Researchers such as Kohn and Orlick make a convincing case for cooperative recreation, and I could envision the occasional phys ed class or family picnic somewhat bettered by the elimination of competition.
However, it will take time for people in the Western world to subdue their staunchly competitive nature. As of now, no one is about to sit in front of the television with a bowl of popcorn to watch a group of cooperative, friendly people with intact self-concepts run back and forth beneath a volleyball net and contribute to a collective long jump. MEMO: Jennifer Dziura is a senior at Cox High School. Her column appears
bimonthly. If you'd like to comment on her column, call INFOLINE at
640-5555 and enter category 6778 or write to her at 4565 Virginia Beach
Blvd., Virginia Beach, Va. 23462
ILLUSTRATION: Color staff photo by Mark Mitchell
In semicircle soccer, groups of linked players attempt to kick the
ball through another group's semicircle.
by CNB