This last week I was in an art supply store and was looking through the prints when I saw this painting, Son of Man, by Rene Magritte.
Although it is one of my favorites it is just another reminder of how incredibly ridiculous I can be.
My sophomore year in high school in my biology class our teacher was trying to hold an intelligent conversation with our class (a difficult task I’m sure) and asked us, “What makes the world go round?” I raised my hand boldly (and apparently naïvely) and said, “LOVE!” My teacher looked at me, cocked her head, gave me a sad look, and said, “Uhh…no Ande, that’s very sweet, but money makes the world go round.” A little deflated I replied, “oh…right.”
You would think I would have learned…
During my literary interpretation class this last semester we were talking about symbols in literature. Up to this point in the semester I felt like all my comments were fairly intelligent contributions to the class and that I was overall doing a pretty good job interpreting the literature we had been reading. My teacher, Brother d’Evegnee, asked us what the forbidden fruit was, being the naïve little girl I am I raised my hand and said confidently, “An apple!” By the look he gave me I figured that that obviously wasn’t the answer so I tried again, “Oh…right, a pear.” His look, again, said it. I then caught on and said, a bit too enthusiastically, “Oh! Sex!”
Moral of the story? Never raise your hand in class to contribute unless you’re absolutely sure what you are about to say is somewhat intelligent and doesn’t make you sound like a girl that has been raised in a closet.