Kids and the Constiution, or the Day My Kid's Tried to Impeach the President

It all started when I pulled out the Presidential Cards I produced a few years ago to give to my Passport Kids as a "Knowledge Challenge" in celebration of Presidents Day. I enjoy the spontaneous learning that occurs during the conversations sparked by these challenges.

The task was to arrange all of the Presidents, from Washington to Trump. As an added bonus, I asked them to identify the eight Presidents who died while in office, as well as how they died. I've discovered that presidential deaths are a terrific discussion starter with the kids, and they end up asking questions about everything. What more can I say? If it's working, keep doing it.

So, at one point, Gecki, an eight-year-old girl, wonders aloud, "Why is there a mirror on the back of the final card?"

"That's because we don't know who the next President will be, and it may even be you someday."

She returns to playing with the other kids, satisfied with my response. Soon after, I hear a debate regarding which of the kids will be the future President. I finished the debate with an unexpected statement. "We live in a Presidential Democracy, which means that if you want to be President, you must first seek for office. If you wish to run, write your name on the board, and we will have an election." I was scrambling to locate my post-its as the youngsters jostled to put their names on the board.

"All right, everyone who is voting, please come to the circle so our candidates may deliver their campaign speeches." Everyone wanted to run and almost everyone wanted to play. I went over each applicant in turn. "If you vote for me, I will allow anyone do whatever as long as they don't violate the laws," they said, saying "The rain is made of dogs; the rain is made of dogs; the rain is made of dogs."

I distributed the post-it ballots after their presentations. "Can I vote if I am running?" and "Can I vote for myself?" were the most frequently asked queries. which I said, "You may in a presidential democracy. Everyone, including Miss Lucy and myself, has the right to vote."

We counted the ballots and announced the winners: Jerome was elected President, and Gecki was elected Vice President. I took out my pocket Constitution—yes, I am a nerd who keeps a pocket Constitution in my purse—along with some old donated coasters that I had saved because they looked like awards. "It's time for the inauguration," I said.

"What is an inauguration?" one of the children said.

"When they take their oaths of office," I explain. "Come have a look."

While singing Hail to the Chief, I had each of them get up and pledge to "faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and to the best of (their) abilities, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States."

Two of my other usual kids arrived halfway through the ceremony, late due to basketball practice.

"What's going on?" Brian, ten, inquired.

"We're swearing in our new President," was the response.

"I'd want to be president."

"It's too late; we've already voted."

"But I wasn't present. I intend to impeach him."

I told him that only the House of Representatives has the authority to impeach the President.

"Then I want to be that," so the kids had a special election to fill the vacancies in the House and Senate as I drew a rapid schematic of our federal system on the board. They announced their desire to run, delivered speeches, made pledges, and then voted.

Brian was elected Representative for the fifth grade, and shortly after his inauguration, he convinced the House to impeach the President.

When I informed him that the Senate had to have a hearing to decide whether or not to sustain the impeachment, and that in the meanwhile, Jerome was still president, his excitement was dampened; then I told Jerome that he could want to nominate someone to the Supreme Court.

"I shall appoint... YOU!" Jerome wrinkled up his face and glanced about.

"I believe you made a wonderful decision, and I pledge to protect our Constitution. Let us now see whether the Senate will confirm your nomination." The Senate did, and I let the President swear me in since we didn't have any other judges to do so.

We then had an impeachment hearing, and despite his best efforts, Brian was unable to persuade the Senate to impeach Jerome.

As the day came to an end, the children wanted to know when the next election would be held. "Well, I believe if we divide years into weeks, our next election should be in two weeks for Representatives, six weeks for Senators, and four weeks for President and Vice President," I said. Not satisfied, Gecki wondered whether we could bring an impeachment against the statute, so we spoke about what it takes to modify the Constitution. When they asked how long I planned to be a judge, I proudly explained the concept of life time appointments. Brian wanted to know what powers he had as Speaker of the House, so I pulled out my pocket Constitution, and before I knew it, I had six heads crammed around me, eagerly listening as I read parts of the Constitution to them.

Brian was overjoyed to find that he was third in line for the presidency as House Speaker. He was especially interested by the fact that in 1778, the year the Constitution was eventually enacted, the word choose was written as chuse, which generated a fresh debate about how languages change.

The saga will continue, as this new game will be a permanent part of our after-school program. It's been almost a week and they still haven't tired of playing it, and my pocket Constitution is used on a regular basis. Furthermore, I believe my children understand how a presidential democracy works better than some adults I know.

Games are the most effective way to teach.