Level Three. Thanks for Thanksgiving.
By Michelle Lloyd.
A social experiment was an idea or theory that could be tested out on a specific section of the public and results could be understood from it. New One had heard about this concept before, but for the first time he was going to put it into practice.
At school an exciting day had been planned. A number of historical experts were going to come in and talk to the students about what it would have been like to live and work for those of a similar age to them in a particular part of history.
There were going to be cooking classes, farming skills shown, arts and crafts taught throughout the day and as a part of the experience, participation was a must.
The school had been preparing for this historical extravaganza for some time. Everybody was getting involved, from the kitchen staff to the gardeners and maintenance team. Even the local press was going to turn up and take a few snaps of the event in progress.
The school building itself had been transformed into a walk through the ages and as minibus loads of experts arrived at the location the hubbub began to unfold.
It was all lovely for New One who had high expectations of what the experience would entail. Used to the lifestyle he had lived up to now, it was hard for him to imagine anything too far removed but he knew that what he was about to experience would be a way away from his normal.
Fast forward an hour and a half, the assembly with full introduction as to the experts who were in situ and schedule that they were about to embark on, felt pushed far back to the further extremes of his memory. New One found that his back was decidedly at odds with his mental motivation. The task had been to show how plants and grow your own were an important part of the past for many and after lugging around the equipment for digging and trying to get seedlings into the correct environments for them to thrive, New One was sure that the outdoor part of the history experience was not for him. Thankful that he did not usually do any of this work, he was startled as laughter and gasps of awe at the flora and fauna quickly turned to groans and moans when it was discovered what the class were expected to do.
One of the students who had been attempting to learn about the growing green run down, had nearly run off himself claiming that he should sue for the indignity of the soil stains on his trousers and the strain to his arms. He had, according to him, never endured anything like it!
The cookery class did not go much better, with oohs and ahhs of curiosity firmly met with disgusted or disgruntled disdain at the rather raw and unprepared ingredients. Tastes had somewhat altered over history and the class could not be happier about this, never had they been more relieved than after being introduced to some of the menu options of a counterpart’s experience from history.
After all the turmoil of being nearly kicked by a visiting farmyard animal and then the grappling but not getting to grips at all with the outdoor pursuits New One had in his heart of hearts been hoping for a bit of a treat when it came to this particular class, but for what was on offer, a debate was not needed on how this was to be taken. New One’s shock and disapproval was written all over his face. No translation was needed, no code or chart to depict what he thought could have ever done his expression justice.
Endured more than experienced, New One felt that his brush with history had been if nothing else, an eye-opener. He had an appreciation that could not have come in any way other than what he had seen, heard and at most times tried to get out from doing. It put his own brand of existence into sharp contrast and he did not in any way feel like he could ever compare it with anything from history ever again.