The Return of the Cootie Catcher

You know what I’m talking about: the paper fortune teller that requires precise folding, then transforms into a tool for delivering good (or not-so-good) news with an element of choice and surprise.

Recently, I’ve been working with my students on the concept of the “inner voice” — exploring what a kind inner voice sounds and feels like versus an unkind one. One of my favorite approaches to social-emotional learning is taking an abstract concept and turning it into a hands-on project. Somehow, cootie catchers came to mind. I loved making and using them as a child, and they suddenly felt like the perfect way to integrate the inner voice work we’ve been focusing on.

A few days beforehand, I had to remind myself how to make them. I started with a YouTube video, and then it all came pouring back — instinctual, stored somewhere deep in my finger memory. Yesterday, I worked with a group of seven second graders to construct their own cootie catchers. (That name feels a little unappealing to my adult self, but I honestly can’t imagine calling them anything else. It’s so tied to childhood nostalgia.)

The students did need support with some of the folds, but what I noticed almost immediately was that the construction process was the perfect level of challenge. It required enough focus and coordination that every child was fully engaged in the task at hand. Once the folding was complete, we added numbers to the outside, colors to the inside flaps, and finally our “inner voice” oracle messages hidden within.

They absolutely loved this part, and each child invested in the design process differently. One girl in particular — whom I’ve noticed over the past several weeks tends toward behavioral rebellion and general disinterest in projects — sat beside me for the entire session, carefully and intricately designing her cootie catcher. While we worked side by side, I got to ask her questions about what she likes and dislikes about school (she likes math, but not recess) and what she wants to do when she grows up (an astronaut — good thing she likes math). I felt us building trust and connection in a new way.

Once the kids finished designing their cootie catchers and writing their kind inner voice messages, they began moving around the classroom, inviting other students and staff to interact with their little divination tools: “Pick a number. Now pick a color…” open flap, reveal message. There was definitely a learning curve with coordinating the finger movements, but once they got the hang of it, they were thrilled.

It was also fascinating to see the kinds of messages they wrote inside. I imagine many of them reflected emotions the children themselves experience. One little girl included the message, “You are confused.” It offered a glimpse into a feeling she may be grappling with internally — and something I may gently explore with her more in the future.

Honestly, of all the creative projects I’ve brought to the kids so far, cootie catchers may have been the most successful. The activity challenged their minds and coordination, held their attention, supported language arts through spelling and sentence construction, gave them a creative design outlet, and ultimately became a tool for social interaction with peers and adults alike.

Who would have thought a cootie catcher could hold so much?

I highly recommend this SEL activity. It genuinely raised the bar for what I want to bring to the students next.