So, a spring day in seventh grade social studies found me half listening to a discussion about warfare in Nicaragua or someplace else. Whatever. Mrs. Bundren spent the majority of the class reminding us to not just blurt out our thoughts but to take turns and be respectful of the speaker.
She stated in her matter-of-fact way, "We will each have a chance to share our opinions about gorilla warfare in Nicaragua. But we must be respectful."
Whoa. Finally I was paying attention. Gorillas? Warfare? Guns? Grenades? My mind was officially blown. Surely she was kidding. I watched her face closely, but she displayed no signs that this topic of conversation was a joke.
One goody-goody student raised his hand and said that somebody was obviously funding the gorillas or else they couldn't afford their weapons. Mrs. Bundren said something along the lines of good question... who could be funding them... where could the weapons come from... I, however, was not really listening because to me it was a stupid comment. I mean, who is going to actually hire a gorilla so that he could save money and go to the gun store and buy a gun? Obviously, they were funded. Stupid comment. Let's move on.
Another student asked how many had been killed in this particular instance that we were talking about. Mrs. Bundren answered her with the latest statistics and information she had gleaned from the newspaper she always kept on her desk. She mentioned that many victims had been unarmed when they had been attacked. I felt so sorry for those people who had been unarmed because who actually expects to be sabotaged by a group of gorillas? I mean, sure, they'll throw their poop at anyone who looks twice at them, but no one expects them to actually be packing heat, for heaven's sake. But, I kinda wondered how stupid the victims could be. You see an ape with a gun, you haul ass. Why were they not high-tailing it outta there?
It may have been the most absurd class discussion I'd ever heard in my eight years of formal schooling. For the most part, I just kept my questions and thoughts to myself until Mrs. Bundren called on me, "Heather, you look deep in thought. Why don't you share those thoughts with us?"
Oh geez. This was it. This was my chance to inform my fellow students of the absurdity that they all seemed to be missing. I heaved a sigh and just let the words flow like bullets from an illegal, semi-automatic pistol.
"Well," I started, "I guess my biggest question is who taught them how to shoot? I mean gorillas are pretty smart, but someone had to teach them how to load, aim, and fire, right? Whoever is teaching them to do that is the one responsible for the animals even having guns in the first place."
It was profound and it was obviously something that no one else in my class had even thought of. I was proud of myself. The class was completely silent. Half of the class was staring at their desk tops. The other half was staring at me with their mouths wide open.
That's right, suckers! I thought. Not one of you even considered how completely wacky it is for the animals to even have weapons in the first place. Probably I'd be named Valedictorian. Or at least someone would put a column about me in the school newspaper. I was feeling beyond smart at that moment.
Mrs. Bundren, without cracking a smile or even smirking one single bit, turned and wrote four words on her green chalk board:
gorilla = animal
guerrilla = terrorist
Pretty much I was never called on again. Also, I was not named Valedictorian.
