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Sidebar: Making Masks
Tinker, Tiger, Robot, Spy: Wearing Masks, Children Can Do and Be Anything
By Mary Koepke Amato
Issue 94, May/June 1999
One rainy afternoon, my son Max turned into a bird. Not an actual live bird, of course. We had made simple bird masks out of paper, and when he put on his mask something magical happened. His arms spread out; his feet beat a wild rhythm; and his voice warbled a bold new song. My very shy three-year-old guy puffed up with power. And when he removed the mask, his face radiated intense joy, as if he’d been given wings.
Since that enchanting day, masks have been as important to us as crayons or blocks. Hanging on hooks about our kitchen are more than 75 faces: pig, jackal, robot, wolf, and more. Primarily we use them to act out familiar folktales and stories of our own creation. My kids – and other kids over for play dates – call these improvisations "mask games."
To children, our mask games are pure fun. As a teacher, I see all the educational benefits. While kids exercise their theatrical muscles, they get covert lessons in language and motor development, sequencing, recall, cooperation, decision-making, and creative thinking. And there are psychological benefits, too. Each mask represents a different trait or emotion. By becoming different characters, kids get the chance to subconsciously explore various aspects of their own personalities.
Of course, you can act out stories without masks, but masks add a special magic. Inhibitions melt behind a mask. That is because the mask conceals your face from the audience. No one can see the real you, and that is empowering. Masks also immediately establish clear new identities. When your child wears an owl mask, she knows she’s Owl, and she knows that everyone will recognize her as Owl. That’s empowering, too. When my youngest son Simon pretends to be a wild animal without a mask, his cute face prevents us from taking him too seriously. But when he puts on the tiger mask, he looks the part. He knows it, and that knowledge gives him a lot of confidence.
Another great reason to use masks is because they are easy and cheap to make (see "Making Masks," page 55). In 15 minutes flat, you can make a fabulous mask from a recycled file folder, transforming your child into anything from an aardvark to the fiery sun. You could never pull that off using elaborate make-up or costumes.
To get the theatrical ball rolling, tell your kids that you’re going to act out a folktale or fairy tale with masks. Choose a short, well-loved story, such as "The Three Billy Goats Gruff." Then let your children pick which characters they want to be. Be adaptable. If you have five children and all five want to play the troll, let five trolls live under the bridge. You can play the parts of the three billy goats. If you have two children and one child wants to be the troll, while the other insists on playing a baby monkey, simply change the story to the "Three Monkeys Gruff." You can play the older monkey brothers. These adaptations often make the story more memorable – and certainly much more personal.
After you have picked your characters, make your masks and put them on. With young children (ages two to six), I have found it useful to narrate in addition to playing all the leftover parts. As narrator, I never tell the characters exactly what to say or do, but I do carefully set the stage: "Once upon a time there were three billy goats. . . ."
Since your kids know the story, they will know what to do from there. If anyone gets stuck, simply transform back into the narrator by lifting up your mask and giving a friendly clue: "Then the middle billy goat comes trip- tropping across the bridge." The narrator also helps to add that crucial sense of closure after the climax: "The goats ate grass and lived happily ever after. The end."
Do not be surprised if your kids want to start at the beginning as soon as that last phrase pops out of your mouth. I don’t know how many performances of Cats they’ve done on Broadway, but we must have produced Peter and the Wolf just as many times in our kitchen.