Stickers and Stamps

I have never believed in monsters, but I do believe in the power of stickers. I have a whole pack of brightly-colored, fat, furry, monster stickers sitting on my desk, ready to give out to students who complete assignments perfectly or are the first to finish. I’m not talking essays or book reports, here, more like geography competitions and which group can locate all six pages numbers corresponding to “semi-colon usage” in the index.

I wasn’t a huge sticker fan when I was younger. I think maybe I collected stamps once, those tiny colored squares with ridged edges marked with cancellation notes in foreign languages. I would cut them off envelopes and store them in a little box in my desk. My tiny paper art collection.

This year, I’ve discovered that even six graders like stickers.

The first day, I started with simple stars. Slightly metallic, various colors. I offered the team that did the best a star sticker on their face. There were a few scoffs, but when the time came to score, you better believe there was some jealousy among the audience when I pressed the shiny stars onto four students’ cheeks. An attentive gaze that lingered on the wearer’s face.

The following day, I gave out happy faces. Many kids bore their happy face award right smack in the middle of their forehead. Even though most of the stickers were torn off by the end of the day, I still saw the odd pink or green circle sticking out of the crowd. Like a badge of honor.

They like the monster stickers the best. These monsters with their fat bellies and green fur and red tails and orange bouncy eyeballs. Maybe they see themselves in the grotesque forms. Gangly arms, too tall, too short. A body that doesn’t look like the others. Twelve is hard. Everyone feels like an outsider in middle school.