Petting and naming cockroaches

Four Madagascar hissing cockroaches have been brought for the children to look at and touch. A group of five children has gathered around the table, on which the cockroaches move in a transparent plastic box. The teacher has picked one of the cockroaches into their hand so that the children can pet them.

“Do you want to pet? You can also just touch them. It feels a bit like if you stroked a nail or something.”

One of the children stares at the cockroach, terrified.

“There’s no need to if you don’t want to,” the teacher says soothingly.

“Cute! I want to hold them.”

“Yes, you may do that after the petting.”

The children stroke the cockroach in turns, carefully with their forefingers.

On the table, in the corner of the plastic box, one of the cockroaches has climbed on the back of another.

“Why are those two mating?”

“They are not mating, they are just a bit confused.”

The antennas of the cockroaches swish at each other.

“What is that little one?”

“It is also a cockroach.”

“Is it a baby?”

“It is a bit younger, yeah.”

“Is it a girl or a boy?”

“The baby is a boy.”

“I want that giant one, I want that giant!”

The children get to pick the cockroaches up into their own hands. Two of the children hold cockroaches on their palms.

“What are their names?” the other one asks the teacher.

“They don’t have names.”

The children start naming the cockroaches themselves.

“This one is Pertti.”

“I have Pentti.”

“This is peace,” a child observes Pertti, who has stopped still on their palm, and strokes it with their thumb. Pertti responds to the petting with a sideways movement of its antennas.

“Where did you know that your cockroaches were boys?” I ask the children.

“They are big on here,” a child says pointing at the upper part of Pertti’s body.

“And those there were girls, right?”

“Mmm, yes.”

A child starts stroking a cockroach that is petrified on the bottom of the plastic box with their thumb and gives it a name:

“This one could be Paula.”

Then the child touches another cockroach on the bottom of the box saying:

“And this could be Puola.” Puola’s antennas shiver to the touch.

Now all four cockroaches have been given a name.

“We might even see these there later,” one of the children ponders when the cockroaches are put back into their box.

“Well, there are so many of them that they cannot necessarily be recognized. There really is a huge pile of those,” the teacher answers.