Release your inner golden retriever
How do writers of children's books always manage to make me think about my adult life?
Each day, in my classroom, we meet at least three times as a group for an event we cleverly call “Group”. Group is sort of our class family time. We talk about things that are going to happen, discuss things that have happen, compare owies, laugh about the silly things we do, play games together, sing songs that we all know and read books and tell stories out loud. Those of you who know me have probably guessed that I love Group. Sometimes, however, Group can get a little wild. Truthfully, any time you get ten to seventeen four year olds together, things are bound to get a little wild. We have a ritual, therefore, to help with that. The children with “the best attention on” get to chose a book for the teacher to read to the entire group.
Today all the books were about dogs. In fact, it was just a doggie day in Madi’s room today, with children playing with stuffed dogs, lapping food like dogs (to which we put a quick end), barking at each other, and, finally, leading each other by tape measures, so I shouldn’t have been surprised by the book choices. We read Go, Dog Go, Doggy Breath,
Hot Dog, Dogs Don’t Wear Sneakers, and finally, a cute and poignant story called Unlovable. I know, by the way, that I should credit the authors of these books, but I’m sure any one who is interested can look them up. They are all good children’s books, which my kids really enjoy. I highly recommend them all, but today I wish to talk about just one of them, from my adult perspective.
Unlovable is the story of a lonely little pug dog. He lives in a house where we never see the owner. We do, however, see the cat that teases him by staying just out of reach, the neighbor dogs who let him know how he doesn’t quite measure up to the other breeds and a particular nasty roommate of a parrot that takes great pleasure in squawking “unlovable” whenever he sees our poor hero. One day the pug is lying outside feeling all sorry for himself when he hears a voice from the other side of the fence. It’s another dog. They can’t see each other so our little pug friend feels free to talk and they become fast friends after discovering they have all sorts of things in common. The only problem is, the other dog now wants to meet him in person and the pug is very afraid that he will once again be rejected.
Does this sound familiar to anyone? If it does, I bet you have explored the wonderful world of on-line romance. We all do it, don’t we? We flirt. We explore. We present the very best of ourselves, because, well, we can. No one sees the red heading to our cheeks, the stumbles in our steps. No one hears the stammers in our speech or the snorts when we laugh. If we say the patentedly wrong thing we can erase it before it ever gets heard, or, if we hit the delete button just a little too late, we can add a clever smiley to make it all seem just a clever piece of wit. On the internet no one is too big, or too small, too old or too young (unless, of course they are underage). Hair, skin and eye color don’t matter. All that matters is what we think and how we express it. Let’s face it, on the internet we are just about the most perfect us we can be.
So what happens if and when we meet our cyber-fence mate? In Unlovable our little pugly friend hides, having presented himself as a golden retriever. He is found, hiding behind a bush, and is relieved to find that his new best friend is a pug, just like him. They become life long friends, chasing cats and ignoring parrots together. I have a feeling, though, that it isn’t always quite so easy in real life. I think maybe the problem may be that while we are presenting the golden retriever in all of us, we are really hoping that on the other side of the fence is a golden retriever who will look at us in our full pug glory and be proud to be seen with us in the real world. We create fantasies about what the other person looks like, sounds like, would be like in real life, and fantasy is never going to be one hundred percent accurate. That is bound to lead to that momentary let down.
If we get beyond that, though, the internet is a wonderful forum, I think, for finding that special someone, or even someones. I say it that way because one thing is almost guaranteed. You can, and almost assuredly will, if you are honest about yourself, find fast friends on the internet. They say first impressions are very important, and science seems to back this up. On the internet the first impression you make is most likely to be the truest impression of you. The you that is inside, not bogged down by the prejudices of a people obsessed with outward characteristics. In the real world, people are first attracted to the body, but stay for the inner qualities. With the internet we can skip the middle man.
We just have to remember that our friend on the other side of the fence is indeed “lovable” no matter in what package he or she is wrapped.
Each day, in my classroom, we meet at least three times as a group for an event we cleverly call “Group”. Group is sort of our class family time. We talk about things that are going to happen, discuss things that have happen, compare owies, laugh about the silly things we do, play games together, sing songs that we all know and read books and tell stories out loud. Those of you who know me have probably guessed that I love Group. Sometimes, however, Group can get a little wild. Truthfully, any time you get ten to seventeen four year olds together, things are bound to get a little wild. We have a ritual, therefore, to help with that. The children with “the best attention on” get to chose a book for the teacher to read to the entire group.
Today all the books were about dogs. In fact, it was just a doggie day in Madi’s room today, with children playing with stuffed dogs, lapping food like dogs (to which we put a quick end), barking at each other, and, finally, leading each other by tape measures, so I shouldn’t have been surprised by the book choices. We read Go, Dog Go, Doggy Breath,
Hot Dog, Dogs Don’t Wear Sneakers, and finally, a cute and poignant story called Unlovable. I know, by the way, that I should credit the authors of these books, but I’m sure any one who is interested can look them up. They are all good children’s books, which my kids really enjoy. I highly recommend them all, but today I wish to talk about just one of them, from my adult perspective.
Unlovable is the story of a lonely little pug dog. He lives in a house where we never see the owner. We do, however, see the cat that teases him by staying just out of reach, the neighbor dogs who let him know how he doesn’t quite measure up to the other breeds and a particular nasty roommate of a parrot that takes great pleasure in squawking “unlovable” whenever he sees our poor hero. One day the pug is lying outside feeling all sorry for himself when he hears a voice from the other side of the fence. It’s another dog. They can’t see each other so our little pug friend feels free to talk and they become fast friends after discovering they have all sorts of things in common. The only problem is, the other dog now wants to meet him in person and the pug is very afraid that he will once again be rejected.
Does this sound familiar to anyone? If it does, I bet you have explored the wonderful world of on-line romance. We all do it, don’t we? We flirt. We explore. We present the very best of ourselves, because, well, we can. No one sees the red heading to our cheeks, the stumbles in our steps. No one hears the stammers in our speech or the snorts when we laugh. If we say the patentedly wrong thing we can erase it before it ever gets heard, or, if we hit the delete button just a little too late, we can add a clever smiley to make it all seem just a clever piece of wit. On the internet no one is too big, or too small, too old or too young (unless, of course they are underage). Hair, skin and eye color don’t matter. All that matters is what we think and how we express it. Let’s face it, on the internet we are just about the most perfect us we can be.
So what happens if and when we meet our cyber-fence mate? In Unlovable our little pugly friend hides, having presented himself as a golden retriever. He is found, hiding behind a bush, and is relieved to find that his new best friend is a pug, just like him. They become life long friends, chasing cats and ignoring parrots together. I have a feeling, though, that it isn’t always quite so easy in real life. I think maybe the problem may be that while we are presenting the golden retriever in all of us, we are really hoping that on the other side of the fence is a golden retriever who will look at us in our full pug glory and be proud to be seen with us in the real world. We create fantasies about what the other person looks like, sounds like, would be like in real life, and fantasy is never going to be one hundred percent accurate. That is bound to lead to that momentary let down.
If we get beyond that, though, the internet is a wonderful forum, I think, for finding that special someone, or even someones. I say it that way because one thing is almost guaranteed. You can, and almost assuredly will, if you are honest about yourself, find fast friends on the internet. They say first impressions are very important, and science seems to back this up. On the internet the first impression you make is most likely to be the truest impression of you. The you that is inside, not bogged down by the prejudices of a people obsessed with outward characteristics. In the real world, people are first attracted to the body, but stay for the inner qualities. With the internet we can skip the middle man.
We just have to remember that our friend on the other side of the fence is indeed “lovable” no matter in what package he or she is wrapped.