A few years ago my boss called me a chicken. He owned chickens and could speak with some authority on the subject. He said that if chickens are sick they show no signs of illness. They just drop dead. They are clucking away, laying eggs, and then, in the prime of their chicken lives, they just fall over dead.
At first my feelings were a little hurt, but I have thought about it a while now, and this is the truest comparison I have heard. Chickens, I understand you.
Maybe no example is better than an experience in my first year of teaching.
I was giving a spelling test some time in that cursed stretch between January and spring break.
It took a few minutes for everyone to prepare. To sharpen pencils. To sharpen a different pencil because that one has lead that always breaks. To get the right paper. To pull off all the fringe on the side of the paper. To then sharpen the pencil again because the lead fell out while we were ripping the paper fringes of the side of the paper. Before any more pencil lead could fall out, we started the test.
- Dentist
- If you eat a Nutella sandwich everyday, you may have to go to the dentist.
I circled through the room repeating. DENTIST. DEN-TIST. DENT-my legs started to feel wobbly like they had been replaced with pencil lead.
I leaned onto a desk in a teacher squat mouthed den-tist to a confused Mohammed R.
- Exist
- Why do we exist?
“Miss, what was number 1?”
My hands started to feel tingly, like they were being poked by newly sharpened pencils.
“Miss, what was number 2?”
I felt a hot surge of blood rushing to my head. Thoughts like, “The floor looks so comfortable right now.” flooded my mind.
“Miss, what is number 3?”
It wasn’t clear to me yet what was happening, but I knew I had to get to sturdy ground.
I squinted to read the next word while I blinked back the white spots clouding my vision.
Miss?!
When I opened my eyes, 23 fifth grade students were standing over me.
“She’s dead!”
“No, she’s just joking, right, Miss? Miss??”
While they debated whether I was dead or not, I pulled myself up using the chair legs and with my most commanding voice said, “I am not dead. Everyone go back to your seat. Number 3…”
At that moment my coworker walked past and thought it was strange that I was giving a spelling test while slumped on the ground. I told her that everything was totally under control, but I had just fainted a little bit.
I don’t know what the opposite of a chicken is in this metaphor, (Maybe a horse who progressively whimpers before a mental breakdown?), but I am thankful for them in my life. They taught me that you should go home if you pass out and let someone else give the spelling test. Or even better, look for some warning signs that you may be overwhelmed so you don’t just drop dead.
Busy Nothings 