In a culture that uses words that make people sick, it’s time we use the six words that make people shine. If you are like tens of millions of people world-wide who have watched the television show Friends, you are familiar with what a Magna Doodle is. It’s a blue plastic picture frame wrapped around a white marble floor canvas with two red eyes, both stuck on the same side of its face. Occupying its foundation is a flat, horizontal zipper for a smile, whose lips can be pushed back and forth like a vintage flashlight knob, and a piercing adorns its right cheek, a red magnetic pen earing glued to a string like a vintage wall-mounted telephone with the attached cord. As you maneuver the pen or slide the two air hockey paddles across the board, magnetic charcoal images bloom like mountains of molten dust rising on a bedroom ceiling fan that’s been neglected by the cloth every time there’s been a cleaning, but instantly vanish like light touching the event horizon of a Black Hole when you ride the zip-line that erases whatever you just doodled. This 1990’s child’s plaything hung on the wall of Chandler and Joey’s apartment in the television show Friends and in 99 episodes displayed a different written message.
Going by the pen name of Regina Phalange on Boredpanda.com even has all 99 Magna Doodle messages on display for those diehard Friends fans that are curious. But, in my freshmen English class at Fountain Valley High School, there is only one Magna Doodle message that matters to me, and it was written by a one student of mine to another.
A few months before this magic Magna Doodle moment took place, I had told my students they weren’t allowed to draw on mine anymore after there was an incident where the comedian of the class, Harrison, had drawn this beautiful looking forest, except one of the trees wasn’t a tree, but a giant male body part. As I breached the huddle of hyenas surrounding Mr. van Gogh’s desk, he looked up to me in embarrassment as the whole class hushed to see how I would react. As is with the thousands of tiny decisions teachers have to make weekly, I had less than a second to decide if I would scorn him or show him a new vision for his life.
As I took in this stunning landscape Harrison had drawn on my prop from Friends, I was moved by how refined it looked, minus his anatomy tree. As the class held their breath, I complimented Harrison and told him that he was an artist. I said he had the rare ability to always make the class laugh with his quick wit and charm, and that one day I knew I would see him on stage either performing standup, acting, or presenting his drawings. Then I mentioned how as an artist, he also has a responsibility to know his audience and venue and since the Magna Doodle was my property and not his, he should have asked permission to use it and not draw anything that would be inappropriate for the class. He nodded and looked relieved I didn’t shame him but also I could see a new sparkle in his eye as he began to download the software of artist I just gave to him in front of all his peers.
That night I went out and bought him his own Magna Doodle and the next day had a one-on-one talk about proper behavior in a class and he assured me it would never happen again and then I gave him the gift and told him it was a gift having him in my class and encouraged him to keep drawing and do what all artists do: add more beauty to society by showing us what was once only visible to them and the muses. On my birthday, Harrison gave me his Razor scooter, and thanked me for showing him a better a better way and on the Magna Doodle I gave him he wrote three words: I love you.
No one messed with the Magna Doodle after Harrison’s infamous tree until a few months later when the freshmen quarterback got up out of his seat in the middle of a girl giving a speech, grabbed it off my table, took it back to his desk, and started doodling on it. Now, giving a speech is the number one fear in the world and we have strict guidelines that no one is to do anything that distracts a speaker or make fun of them in any way. Doing so will be an automatic F for them. Now, Lucas is not the type of kid to be mean or rude, and so I let it play out before I said anything to him for doing this in the middle of his classmate’s presentation.
It was a speech that wasn’t going well. She was struggling and the whole class could feel the awkwardness. A few seconds later, Lucas holds up my Magna Doodle and flashes it so she could see it. Lucas sat in the front row and so only the speaker and myself could see what was written on it. Suddenly, this girl who was drowning, started walking on water. A smile appeared in her face, an enthusiasm overcome her cadence, and when she finished there was pride in her eyes and joy beaming in my heart.
Lucas had risked breaking protocol and getting an F to be a wingman for a student who was struggling. In both cases, with Harrison and Lucas, I knew their hearts and so I didn’t act harshly, as some teachers too tied up in rules instead of relationships might have done. The sad truth is, Lucas is a quarterback and most of his high school “success” will be judged by the touchdowns he completes or the passes he doesn’t, but one of his greatest victories was only meant for one…one girl who was dying on stage and Lucas gave her CPR by daring to doodle.
We have two main maxims in my class: Your Words Create Your World. And: Would You Gold Medal in the Love You Gave Away Today? On that day, Lucas’ words made that girl’s world and mine better. An unlike Friends that has 99 different doodles, in my class, hanging on the wall, there will forever only be one. Six words, written by a Gold Medalist in Love, six words that are a greater victory than anything in any endzone, six words we all should be telling ourselves and each other more often, six words that created a new friend by giving a struggling girl her smile: You are doing great…Keep going!
