The Dawn of Psychology, In My First Grade Class

by Thomas M. Pender

I’m not sure how or when it started, this ability to involuntarily study my fellow human beings as I go about my business.  Since a time I can’t recall (and perhaps, I suppose, since birth), I have watched the actions and reactions of people around me, and compiled patterns of behavior.  It only occurred to me in my late teens or early twenties that I could say or do specific things in order to get specific reactions from specific people.  When this did occur to me, I became very curious about the origin of this skill/talent/curse.  I still have no answers as to the beginning of this phenomenon, but I recently recalled at least a very early anecdotal sign that I was learning how to use it to my advantage.

The game was called “Seven-Up.”  I was six.

The rules were fairly simple.  Our teacher would pick seven students, who went up to stand at the chalkboard.  The rest of the class would then put their heads down and close their eyes.  The chosen seven would wander out into the columns of desks, and each would touch one student on the head or arm, then return to the front of the class.  Those who were touched would stick their thumbs up in the air.  When the teacher counted seven thumbs and the original set of chosen students were back up in front of the class, she would give the okay.  The students would then sit up and open their eyes, and the seven who were touched would stand.  One by one, each would guess who touched them.  If the student guessed right, they would replace that person at the front.  If they guessed wrong, they would sit back down.  After all seven guesses, the heads went back down for another round.

At an indistinct point in my first grade career, I became an expert at this game.  Not only could I easily pick out which student touched my arm, but I could arrange to be the least likely chosen by the students I tapped.  I slowly and subtly noticed that the other six- and seven-year-olds had tendencies to stand against the board at the head of the same row they picked someone, and to look anxiously at their target while he or she was deciding.  Once this mystically occurred to me, it was a piece of cake to determine who touched me.  Once up at the board and a player, I altered my behavior very simply: I would pick a student on one extreme end of the class, but stand at the opposite extreme end of the board; and while my target was trying to find me, I would casually look away from them and look bored, as if his or her choice didn’t concern me.

I can’t say I was never chosen, but I bet for the rest of that year and the following few years we played the game in class, I wasn’t found out more than one or two times a year.  At the time, I had no idea that I was delving into the complex field of psychology.  I was just playing the game to the best of my ability.  Only decades later did I realize that I had, in fact, studied a set group of subjects, notated patterns of behavior, developed theories of behavior based on these notes, then tested my theories within the study group, to be rewarded with the predicted behaviors.

I’m not even a man of science, but I think this certainly warrants at least a Master’s in Psychology.  I’d even take one that was written out by a six-year-old in Crayon!

Two Hours In Cinematic Sunday School

by Thomas M. Pender

Which is better?  To be beaten over the head with a golf club, or to be beaten over the head with a Bible?

Answer: They both hurt and irritate you.

I don’t have cable, so I missed any and all ad campaigns for the film Seven Days In Utopia.  I don’t know if it’s a big film or a little one in terms of release.  I first saw the title while searching local theatres online for something I hadn’t seen.  Upon investigating, it looked like a decent show to see: the cast is filled with actors I enjoy (Lucas Black of Friday Night Lights and Sling Blade, Robert Duvall of The Godfather, and Kathy Baker of TV’s Picket Fences), and the story seemed harmless, although a bit used: Golfer loses a big match, goes angry-driving through Texas, skids off road, damages car, has to spend a week in a small town no one’s ever heard of, and his life is forever changed for the better.

I could name five or six films that already did this, except for the golfer aspect.  Still, it seemed worth a look.  Sadly, it’s a poorly conceived two-hour sermon that just happens to have a great cast in it.  I checked to make sure this wasn’t a true story, as that would negate my criticisms of the storyline.  It’s fiction, so here are said criticisms of the storyline:

First off, when the very first thing you see on the screen is a Bible passage, you can be sure you’re in for a soul-pokin’!  Then, a golfer who goes driving with no destination (or “no direction” as the Christian uber-message would probably word it) ends up in a town of just over 300 people that happens to have a makeshift golf course in the cemetery?  Puh-leeze!  And the architect of this course happens to be a former golf pro who everybody wonders where he disappeared to?  Puh-leeze times two.  The senior pro convinces the junior pro to stay in town for a week, during which the senior will help the junior “find his game.”  Now, we begin the Karate Kid portion of the movie, where the junior pro is told to perform all manners of crazy seemingly-unrelated chores (catch a fish, paint a picture), but as we know ahead of time, each chore will help him on his path to greatness.

It would have helped my irritation level greatly if the junior pro had simply heard of this crazy golf course, and chose to drive there to see it, to get away from it all.  That’s believable.  But crashing his car across the street from it?  And the mysterious senior pro happens to find him?  I’m already sorry I bought the ticket.

Add to this the anvil-heavy Christian message.  Now, I’ve been a Christian all my life, and I’m proud of it.  I think stories that put Jesus into people’s lives are wonderful, but there is something to be said for subtlety.  Jesus himself told parables, which were cute little non-head-beating stories that led people to understand God’s message.  It wouldn’t have taken much to change the script into a pleasant, featherweight story that got viewers to think about God’s work in our lives.  Instead, the creators went for the Crusades-level teaching style, and lost me altogether.  I don’t think God would want to be an irritant to those He’s trying to win over.

Halfway through the film, I’m hoping it’s a short movie.  Three-quarters through, I’m checking the time.  At the end of the film, when they opt not to show you the end of the story, but instead guide you to a website in order to find out . . . I was livid!  The nerve of some salesmen.  I decided it was my duty (and, admittedly, my revenge upon the filmmakers) to report this on a public weblog, and wave people off from seeing it.

I’ll even go a step further: The golfer wins in the end.  In the meantime, read your Bible if you want to learn about God.  Now, you don’t have to see the movie.  There!  Take that, Seven Days!