Page 21 - Free the Idea Monkey

You get the picture. Sister Helen believed in rigid, unbending
discipline. From my seat, it looked like she had been doing it for
300 years. Also from my seat, as we saw from my (thankfully) unex-
pressed comments, every rule was an opportunity to bend, change
or invent another reality. This kind of stuff starts early. I think that
now is an important time to note that in the Middle East they believe
a rebellious child is an intelligent one. Hey, do they eat Monkeys in
the Middle East? I digress.

Given all these rules, I thought it might take awhile to demon-
strate my individuality (despite all the subversive comments going
through my head). I was wrong.

It was finally time for my name to be
called during role call. I was excited.
From behind her pulpit—seriously, she
had a pulpit—Sister Helen called out
“George Maddock?”

She looked around for a raised
hand, cleared her throat and called
out again, “GEORGE MADDOCK?”

I come from a short line of George
Maddocks. My grandfather and dad are
both George Maddocks. In truth, so was I:
George Michael Maddock. But there is a strange tradition in our fam-
ily that involves naming your kids after their father, and then using
their middle names around the house to avoid confusion.

So, my name is Mike. In fact, the first time she called out for
George Maddock, it didn’t even register she was talking about me. By
the time she broke her own rule and yelled it, my head was spinning;
feelings of fight or flight were in full force.

Since I did not yet understand the concept of “winning the battle
and losing the war,” I decided to fight. I hoped God, my parents and the
next Maddock kid to get Sister Helen as a teacher would understand.
I decided I would not respond until she called me “Mike” Maddock.

While I waited, I began to whistle nervously and gaze around the
room. Eventually Sister Helen noticed. Before I knew it, she was in
my face.

6 FREE THE IDEA MONKEY