The Cookie Competition

This memory dates back to my initial years of teaching. I was quite young and was in-charge of the Grade 4 children. It was a small villa school in Dubai, but gave me all the space to experiment and learn as a teacher.

Iraq was at war with Iran and the Middle East had become home ground for the U.S Marines. UAE too became a common host to these young officers. Many such Marines became regular visitors at our school. At first I didn’t understand their agenda in the school, but often found them cleaning, scrubbing and helping out with the maintenance of the building. As per the Principal, the school had been adopted by them and so, two army officers painting the school wall became a usual sight.

It was in their presence that I was awakened to the complexes that some of the Asian communities have inherited and hold onto with such fiery grasp.

One morning, during the assembly, it was announced that a high ranking naval officer had readily invited all students from Grades 3, 4 and 5 to visit the U.S Ship that had anchored in Dubai. The purpose of this field trip was to high-light the life of a navy marine at sea and also marvel the complexity of the huge and sophisticated vessel itself.

Children clapped with excitement. I too was thrilled to be a part of this adventure. I had never been on a ship and the idea appeared quite romantic at that age.

The buzz on ‘visiting a war ship’ carried through the day. I asked my children to bring small note pads and pencils to jot down their observations. I also asked them to think of some relevant questions to ask and be prepared for a rocking ride.

While the buses got ready in the morning, we formed the lines, waiting impatiently to begin our journey. The children wanted to know if there would be ‘firing’ and ‘bombing’! I laughed at their innocent fears and constantly teased them about forgetting their helmets at home!

While we were entertaining each other, I could see MS. X, as I don’t want to name her, loading her lot of Grade 5’s with a list of instructions. Every child in that line was standing upright, no smiles, all business and looking at their profiles, you could have imagined, we were really going in for a battle!

I pity children who are handcuffed for a complete year with some dictator who basically produces photocopies of herself at the end of the year.

“You will address them as ‘Sir’. If they ask you a question, don’t stand like statues. Answer them and be polite. Show your manners. They will be looking at the way you talk and behave. I don’t want anyone talking out of place and being disrespectful. If you want to use the toilet, what will you say?” Nobody dared to answer. “You will say, Please Sir, Can I use the toilet?” And the detailed resolution was never ending.

On a field trip, discipline is managed more through actions then verbal orders. The reason is related to natural child behaviour. When children enter an exciting new place, their senses are filled up with their surroundings. It’s difficult to connect through words at such times but a sign language can do wonders. I had taught my children certain signals that indicated. “Be quiet now”, “move straight”, “raise your hand” and “line up”. When the noise level is high, they work well. And I didn’t want my children to be quiet and have nothing to say. I wanted them to have as many exclamation marks that day as they wished or desired.

This sad story continued through the bus journey and I was unfortunately teamed up with Ms. X on that trip. Just before we were to get off the bus, I stood up to face my children. I said, “Alright now, we are there. Will you remember to follow our sign language?” “Yes Ms.Shama”. “Good! Ask as many questions as you like and be careful not to touch or fiddle with any equipment without permission. All clear?” I purposely instructed them in an Admiral’s tone which made them laugh! They in return gave me a salute and shouted, “Yes Sir!”

We were received by the Captain. He smiled at us and welcomed us on board. “The pleasure is all ours Sir. We are honoured to be here. Aren’t we children?” Ms. X gave her introductory speech. By now, the word ‘sir’ had started to pick on me. I looked at his name tag and it read, Captain Charlie. “Hi! I’m Ms. Shama. How are you Charlie?” He got completely confused but offered a hand shake which was a cultural shock for Ms. X again. “I’m fine. Thank you. So, how do you want to go about this tour?” We thought it would be best to move in lines with teachers and helpers to monitor each end.

The tour began with the control room. Children strolled on the open decks and got to touch the anchors. They were amazed to witness so many bunk beds in a narrow space. The ship’s wheel was the real treat. Everyone got to hold it for a while. The boys couldn’t stop saying ‘cool!’ while the girls giggled at the funny faces the friendly crew made to make them feel more welcome.

“We have a special treat for the teachers and the children to offer in our on board cafeteria. Let me lead you to another interesting place on this ship. We prepare our own meals on the ship and to kill the hunger, prefer a lot of snacks. What our crew has baked for you today are yummy chocolate-chip cookies!”

“Yeahhh!” There was a loud cheer and we entered a small space with many square tables and chairs. Everybody sat down chirping happily. I sat with a group of teachers while the crew distributed two cookies per child. The children ate happily and were busy exchanging news on the ‘cool stuff’ that they had seen. Ms. X was on guard as usual and constantly kept wiping crumbs off the children’s faces.

“Alias” was a chubby little boy in my class. He was clumsy in his manners and often created a lot of laughter in class. His classmates loved him for his simple answers and funny expressions. He had thoroughly enjoyed the cookies and merrily walked up to the Captain and said, “Captain Charlie, I would like some more please.” And that was it! Ms. X approached Alias and pulled him back. “What’s wrong with you? Everybody got two cookies right? Sir was kind to treat you this way.” And what she murmured in her breath was heard by all. “Such greedy behaviour!”

The Captain was completely taken aback by the sudden intrusion. He spoke politely to Ms. X, “We do have a lot more to share…” but she did not let him complete his sentence. “Of course not! As it is you have been very kind to us. This boy is very ill-mannered!”

Poor Alias sat with his head down in shame. She was moving closer to him to further lecture him but little did she know, she had crossed the line with me. He was ‘my child’. And she had humiliated him in front of his friends and strangers.

A child’s dignity and self-esteem are key elements to his success or failure in life. Therefore, the blow that he had faced for a simple request had to be erased without losing any more time. “Captain Charlie!” I almost shouted in panic as I wanted every one’s attention. “You said you had a lot more cookies to share. How about a Cookie Competition?”

He looked a little puzzled but the applause from the children made him nod his head. I walked up to ‘Alias’ and sat opposite him. Children gathered round to witness what was going to happen. “I bet I can eat far more cookies in a set time than Alias here. In my house, I am the Cookie Monster!” The children laughed heartily. The boys who had felt the injustice of Ms. X towards Alias, sided with him encouraging him to win this contest. He was still unsure, when I held his hand like in an arm wrestling contest and instigated him to participate. Suddenly the atmosphere was that of a boxing ring. There were children calling out our names in a frenzy of excitement. The cookies were piled up in a dish in front of us. He looked into my eyes to see how serious I was about it. “Let’s see who the real Cookie Monster is!”

The whole event is very vivid in my memory. His enthusiasm had returned and we both set on eating as many cookies as possible. It didn’t matter how messy we got, or how dreadful we looked. We were enjoying the moment and as soon as he won the contest, he was picked up by a tall officer who carried him on his shoulders, declaring him the ‘Cookie Monster’!

I reported the incident to the Principal who spoke to Ms. X about her inappropriate handling of the child. What I wished in my heart was for someone to inform her that the ‘colonial era’ had long been deposited into museums and historical books. The inferiority complex that consumed her was her own figment of imagination. 


While most Western nationalities keep an open mind policy towards their eastern counterparts, the desire to please them and justify all our actions is but our own created demons. We strive to project perfection in their presence, we correct our manners for them and are even ready to sacrifice the simple joys of our children to run a fake programme. 


The cookie competition was an attempt to break free from following a rule book, to escape falling into the trap of racial discrimination, to move forward and embrace the spirit of being human and playing a fair game to build the trust.


There was a lot the children filled in their note pads that day, but the 'Cookie Competition' remained the high-light!