Bowel Movements, Inside Out, ASAP
As I’m nearing the completion of my book I’ve dredged up some miniscule memories that were tucked away in little crevices of my brain—specifically those mentioned in the title. Though these may seem to be unrelated topics, generally speaking, they are all related in my mind because of their tie to previous experiences I’ve had.
When I was a young boy, whenever my stomach would ache a common question my mother would ask me was whether or not I had experienced a bowel movement. I had no idea of what she was speaking. I just kept thinking she was talking about some kind of ball. (She should have asked if I did a #2. Then I would have known what she was talking about.) I always said, “No.” I didn’t know what a bowel movement was and I figured if I’d had one I would have known about it. Therefore, I didn’t have any bowel movements until I was several years older. Before that I just went to the bathroom.
When Jarod was playing optimist football in the fourth grade, the offensive line coach kept telling these 10 year olds that their responsibility was inside out. What he was meaning by that was that if two defensive players were lined up across the line from them, their most important responsibility was to block the one that was lined up closer to the football—the “inside” man. If there was no one inside, then he was to block the one on the outside—further away from the football. Thus, their responsibility was “inside-out.” For all they knew he could have been telling them that their responsibility was upside down and backwards. They didn’t have a clue as to his meaning—ergo the blank stares.
I laugh at my previous lack of understanding of the terminology of A.S.A.P. (As Soon As Possible). When I first started teaching in Arlington , the counselor sent me a note wanting some information ASAP. Later she asked me why I hadn’t gotten it back to her. I told her that I didn’t realize she needed it quickly. She said, “I put ASAP on it.” I said, “What does that mean?” She went blank and then explained it. I told her that we didn’t use that terminology on the farm. Dad just said, “Hurry up.” I had thought she was just making a joke about a sap or something. I guess the joke was on me.
When I was teaching eighth graders in an alternative school (where they sent kids who were kicked out of other schools) in Ft Worth, the principal, Steve Gay, taught me a valuable lesson. It was prompted when he heard someone telling a student, “You know better than that!” He said that because of the background of many of these kids—their horrible or non-existent home life—that they really didn’t know better on many things we had assumed they would. No one had ever explained to them what it was or they had never considered how their actions impacted others in a negative way.
The truth is we all have something, even what most people consider really simple things, that we don’t know about because we’ve had no occasion to know about them. Thanks to the life experiences I’ve had and Mr. Gay’s instruction I was able to be a better teacher by making sure to point out simple things that I would not have mentioned otherwise. I even try to do this today with my sweet grandson, Trapper. I look for teachable moments to educate him about the “simple” ordinary things of life. Then he will know about them and be able to make better decisions as a result. And who doesn’t need that ability? So the next time you see me doing something stupid, don’t assume I’m doing it on purpose. Cut me some slack and love me anyway. That’s what I really need. God Bless, Dennis
