Q&A Part III

 And still more questions and answers.
 
What was your favorite part of going to girls’ class?
—Just a Girl Who Loves Her Coffee
Dear Girl Who Loves Coffee,
    I want to say that class was one of the most amazing experiences of my life, and I wouldn’t trade that group of girls or our instructor for anyone. I think it’s impossible to pick a single favorite part. One of my favorite things was the fact that we were such a small group and that many of us already knew each other so well, but learned to know one another even better. 

Yet the most precious moments were sitting around the table sharing hearts (“Lord, keep an arm around my shoulders and a hand over my mouth” comes back as a memorable quote). Singing and devotions also have many good memories, as well as the one day we were sprawled all over the sanctuary writing essays. 

There are funny little moments that bring back a smile, like the fact that the “Africa girls” got stuck under the air conditioning vents and the appalling table manners of some certain people who didn’t know how to pass things and referenced loogies at mealtime. There were also jeep rides (ya’ll know who you were, sneaking in extras at night) and sitting around the mouth of a cave writing compliments for each other.
    But one cannot reference class without bringing up the Dummy in the Toilet. This is a frivolous event, completely unrelated to the real heart-things of class. If this causes you a problem, stop reading now. If you wish to continue, be aware I have done my best to protect the innocent—or maybe those who are not. Perhaps it’s time for a little soul-cleansing. The version of the story told here has been shortened to include only the highlights. I apologize if the events are incorrectly recorded.
    Shortly before girls’ class commenced, a wedding had taken place in the congregation. As so often happens, the best man, being a youth brother of great—shall we say, creativity? —decorated the newlywed’s yard with, among other things, a toilet.
    This started a bit of a war between the best man and the couple, with the toilet being unceremoniously passed back and forth. Its last resting place was to the side of the couple’s driveway, right by the road. The couple chose the introduction evening of girls’ class to exact some revenge by writing a stunning advertisement on the windows of a certain truck in the yard. It contained things such as “I’m still searching” and one stipulation: “needs to be thrifty.” The young man, in youthful wisdom, withdrew from the yard before any of the girls actually got the number written down.
    This might have been the end of things, but fate had other plans.
    Two of the most innocent girls in attendance ended up staying with the best man’s family for the last half of class. One evening, while the men of the house were out of earshot, the story of the toilet war was broached. Inspiration hit suddenly as it was told. 

“Hey! You know what would be funny? If somebody would stuff a pair of blue jeans and put boots on the pant legs and put it waist down in the toilet! It would look like somebody fell in!” It was only a matter of minutes until plans were being completed. The women of the home would gather supplies during the day, and the class girls would carry out the deed that evening. The menfolk were to remain ignorant until things were well into the final stages.
    It was Saturday, the last day of class. The youth brought supper to church and played volleyball until around 10:00. One of the youth girls was to be the chauffer for the two who were involved with the plot involving the dummy. The little Mazda was pulled around to the basement door and loaded with supplies. A pair of blue jeans was stuffed with hay, amidst much giggling. The poles needed to support the legs were too long to fit properly in the car, so they were left hanging out of an open window as the car traversed the winding roads to the scene of the crime.
    Stealthily, the trio made their way in the dark to the toilet, which they filled with dirt. It took a few tries before the dummy (christened George) was properly installed, but eventually all was deemed perfection, and the girls fled back toward the house and rest.
    Sunday morning dawned beautifully, and most of the churchgoers passed the guy in the toilet on their way to the morning service. Everyone knew the best man had to have been responsible. Who else would have done such a thing?
    After church there was a commotion in the back of the building as the couple confronted the best man, who protested vigorously, saying he had had nothing to do with such a scheme.
    “Well, why did we hear your pickup gunning around?”
    “Oh, there were some traffic problems.”
    “Not on this road at 10:00 at night there wasn’t!”
    “Well, I didn’t do it.”
    “You expect me to believe that? If you didn’t do it, you had someone else do it! You were in on it in some way!”
    The best man kept maintaining his innocence. “In the dictionary, if you look by the word innocent, you will find my name. I told you, I was sleeping!”
    One of the class girls could resist no longer. “No, he didn’t do it. He has witnesses. He was at home.”
    “What? You were at his house?”
    “Yes.”
    The best man jumped on this claim. “And there’s a second witness, too!”
    The other innocent raised her hand. “Yeah, he was home sleeping. I heard him snoring over in his chair in the corner.”
    The couple had no choice but to drop the case in mystification and go home.
    The story could end there. It probably should end there. But it doesn’t.
    That night, after the program, the girls were driving around the community, most of them in the back of a pickup, when they passed the dummy, still woefully waving his legs out of the toilet bowl. Someone had a brilliant idea. “Girls! We should take that thing and put it in the back of the best man’s pickup!”
    Together, they loaded the toilet bowl, tank, and now-sodden legs of the dummy into the bed of the truck.
    It was nearing midnight as the pickup pulled into the yard of the best man’s family’s home. Amid much laughter, the deed was done. Unfortunately, the tailgate of his pickup fell off in the process. As three of the girls strove to return it to its place, the rest of the anxious watchers saw them suddenly duck down, as if hiding. When they raced back to the waiting truck, loud whispers ensued: “Hush! There’s a window open!” “Girls! It looked like there was something white at that window!”
    Quickly, the pickup was turned around and the group left as (quietly?) as they had come.
    A few years later, when the class girls held a mini reunion at the congregation, a toilet mysteriously appeared on the porch of the house where they were staying. I guess it’s true, what goes around comes around.
    Is it coincidence that this Q&A series has brought two dummy stories to light? You can decide.
 
What do you think about teaching a foreign language in our parochial schools? How much will the children retain? If they don’t put their hearts into it, will it be worth it?
—Foreign Language Guru
    This is an interesting question to think about. I believe I’ll have to take it piece by piece.
    What do I think about teaching a foreign language in our parochial schools? Well, since I support just about everything deemed remotely educational, I would say I think it’s a great idea! However, I understand there are some caveats to putting this into practical application. One of those would be that many of our teachers do not know a foreign language. Foreign language can be difficult to teach if one knows nothing about it. There is also a dearth of foreign-language curriculum available and approved for our schools, particularly for younger students.
    I’m not sure if you are thinking about teaching a foreign language as an extra subject, or if you are thinking more down the lines of “We’ll say five words each time we go into the classroom.” Because if you are thinking about adding an extra subject, many teachers, for sure those in three-grade-classrooms, barely have time for the subjects they already struggle to impart.
    Another thing to consider is that around 20% of children find memorizing extremely difficult. Foreign language, in its most simple form, is memorizing a bunch of random letters and sounds. Those who struggle to memorize things in their native language will find memorizing a foreign language that seems nonsensical extremely difficult! Fun fact here: Many colleges require students to study a foreign language. If you have an official diagnosis of something that makes memorizing difficult, such as dyslexia, most will accept American Sign Language as your foreign language because movements and pictures are easier to memorize than random sounds. ASL and BSL (British Sign Language) are enough different it is difficult to cross communicate using the two, unlike speakers of, for example, Spanish and Portuguese.
    How much will the children retain? That depends entirely on the individual. Like many of the things one learns in school, even your most brilliant child may forget some if they do not continue to practice. However, there would be the hope that like those pesky formulas and equations, if they get into “real life” and are put in a situation where they will use the language, it might come back to them easier and make them more enthused to understand and pursue it on their own.
    If they don’t put their hearts into it, will it be worth it? If the teacher is enthused, usually the students will be enthused. If they are struggling with enthusiasm, find ways to make it fun. Play a game or learn a song or poem with actions. Maybe learn new words by translating their favorite jokes and seeing if they are still funny!
    My opinion is that if teaching a language is something you are enthused about, it will be worth it in some way. The discipline of learning any new skill is a valid tool that can be used many ways in life. Learning a language may inspire a love for languages or a desire to explore other cultures that helps lands someone in the mission field one day. If you are hoping to see an immediate payoff, you might be disappointed, but I believe that expanding our children’s education by introducing a foreign language will certainly have benefits at some point.
    Veil Glück!
 
What is something you love to do?
—From the Bayou State
    How long do you have to listen?
    There are many things I love to do. I love to sing. I love visiting museums. I love heart-pounding moments in an escape room. I love lurking in lonely old graveyards reading tombstones from a hundred or two hundred years ago. I love quiet moments full of deep thoughts by an ocean or a river or a waterfall. I love to create things, whether an actual item or just words arranged on a page like they’ve not been arranged before. I love learning new, strange, and wonderful facts and going on little adventures, like visiting an abandoned house, or bigger adventures, like experiencing a new country. I love a good debate, as long as it stays friendly.
    But what I really love is learning about people. I like to watch them from afar. I like to listen to them nearby. I like to hear their stories and their humor and their hearts. Can I meet you at a coffee shop sometime?
 
What are some tips for communication?
—Reflecting in the Southwest
    This is a really hard one.
    I could give you all the textbook answers and right words, but that’s probably not what you want.
    The first two things that come to my mind in regards to communication are honesty and love.
    Now, this doesn’t mean we have to say something just because it is true (do a little research on those who believe in complete candor in radical honesty, literally just saying whatever thought comes to their mind). However, we do need to be willing to broach uncomfortable topics with our honest thoughts. The secret lies in doing so with love. What is the kindest, most compassionate way you can bring up the topic? How can you show that you are willing to change your opinion and are honestly interested and willing to hear the other side of the story? If you take self out of the equation and approach the situation through the perspective of being a sinner in need of a Savior, you will likely find yourself taking on a new softness and humility in your conversation.
    Not communicating can be, in many cases, even more hurtful than harsh communication. Avoidance of a topic can build walls where the parties involved try to make guesses at what the other one is thinking.
    Something I learned several years ago is that when my sister asked for my opinion, what she actually wanted many times was my approval. This realization has helped our communication tremendously! Now I know I need to ask her, “Do you want options for how you can do that, or do you want me to just say my opinion on what you’ve already done?”
    Many times I’ve sat in schoolboard meetings where the teachers and board members struggle to get on the same page. A few perceptive chairmen have asked, “Are you looking for answers, or are you just sharing what’s going on?” It’s a little frustrating to spend thirty minutes mulling over a problem when the teacher was just trying to give an update because that’s what’s expected.
    So I guess I would say part of good communication is asking questions and making sure you understand not only what was said, but the thought process behind it. This can be hard, because we are very given to making assumptions. We assume that other people’s brains are working in the same way as ours is. This is rarely the truth.
    Another thing I want to give a moment to is body language and tone.
    In a face-to-face interaction, Albert Mehrabian, a professor of psychology, indicates in his research that 55% of communication is body language, 38% is tone of voice, and only 7% is words.
    Whatever feelings you are harboring inside will probably show on the outside. Your words might have nothing wrong with them whatsoever, but the tone has implications that would make a grizzly bear turn tail and run. Or maybe you’re communicating with your child about something they’ve done wrong and you are out of patience. A firm tone is great, but what do they see when they look in your eyes? When someone comes to talk to you about a problem, do you fold your arms and take refuge behind a table or desk?
    We would do well to monitor ourselves in some of these areas. One place I struggle is when I’m deep in my thoughts or focusing on something else entirely and someone asks me a question. I am wont to give an abrupt, harsh-sounding answer. I’m not upset at them, only distracted, but it might sound like I am angry. My family has let me know I need some practice in this area.
    One of the most important things we have to do in communicating with others is something that often feels counterintuitive, and that is extend trust to them. Giving them the benefit of your trust means that you also give them the benefit of the doubt. We choose to believe what they told us. A lot of us women, for sure, tend to listen to someone’s words and mentally brush them off with excuses, such as “they were just being nice,” or “she’d never really say what she thought anyhow.” When we are projecting our thoughts and feelings on other people, our communication has little chance of success. Do your best to believe that they want good in the situation as much as you do. Approach the conversation with your only preconceived idea being that you are both on the same team.
    This is simplified, of course. I know there are complicated situations out there with a backlog of emotions that don’t have a clear-cut and simple answer. Our only recourse in those circumstances is to approach them with much prayer.
    Now, with all that being said, do as I say, not as I do. Communication has been a learning curve throughout my life that has lasted many years, and I don’t see it ending any time soon.
 
Why don’t you just become a columnist? Ask Annette instead of Ann Landers?
—From the Comment Section
    This is a most frightening suggestion I’ve seen in a while.
    I have read many columnists in my day—Ann Landers, Dear Abby, and Miss Manners to name a few. (Did you know Ann Landers and Dear Abby were identical twins?) Their answers have always intrigued me. But let me inform you of the reasons I could never be a advice columnist.
    The first one should be obvious: I can’t even figure out my own life, much less other people’s. Add to that, I don’t want to take the responsibility of giving advice that doesn’t turn out.
    Furthermore, I may have been heard deriding some of the advice given in said columns because I felt it was trying too hard to be culturally appropriate or people pleasing. That being said, it’s likely I would fall into the same pattern. And while I’m having fun answering all these questions, I’m pretty sure it would stop being fun if I had to do it year-round.
    Thank you for your vote of confidence, even if I do prefer to give opinions and theories rather than advice.
    And honestly? I think we have the most amazing base of people ready to give Godly advice right in our midst. You probably sat next to someone Sunday morning who could impart much gracious wisdom if you only asked.
 
I have enough questions left for another post or two. I have been highly entertained by all the questions. I mentioned to one friend that the questions people send in are certainly different than the ones I am used to getting from my third and fourth grade boys. Which, make no mistake, I enjoy both.
Thanks for reading!