In this class, we talked a lot about rules and why we have them. Obviously, we don't always agree with a rule or see it's purpose, but I think for the most part everyone understands that they are there for a reason. I was trying to rack my brain for a time when a rule was keeping me from doing something that I wanted to do, and the first thing that popped into my mind was "Free the Cheese."
I'm positive that none of you know what the hell I'm talking about, so allow me to explain:
Both of my parents work full-time, Monday-Friday, every week. As a result, neither of them were capable of watching me or taking me to school during the ages in which I was too young to drive and too young to stay home by myself. This meant daycare. From age 4 to age 12.
It wasn't such a bad thing, really. Daycare is where I met 3 guys who are still my good friends to this very day, and it is also where I was introduced to video games, which is why I am now a New Media student.
Anyways, on to the point. One day during the summer one of my friends, Dean, brought in a single slice of processed American cheese. Why? I don't have a damn clue. One of the teachers, Mr. Jim, decided to confiscate the cheese. Why? I don't have a damn clue. Collectively, me and my friends decided to fight back. Why? I don't have a damn clue. But when three things like that just so happen to happen, hilarity will ensue.
Mr. Jim took the cheese and put it in the refrigerator upstairs. (Upstairs was where we had lunch, and was off limits except at lunchtime.) Thinking it was taken care of, Mr. Jim went back to doing, whatever it was he did around there. (The guy was the cook, but he was there all day... I really have no idea what his purpose was other than between the hours of 11am and 1pm while he was preparing and serving food.)
Boy was he in for a shock. Let me explain that the layout of the building was such that there were not one, but two staircases that led upstairs, and they were on opposite ends of the building. This being said, if one staircase was being watched, the other was more likely than not, not. Exploiting this, we snuck upstairs the back way and began our hunt for the cheese.
Before long, Mr. Jim realized we were missing and stormed upstairs, catching us just as we discovered the location of our imprisoned cheese. Dean snagged it and sprinted for the stairs. The rest of us tried to hold back Mr. Jim as long as possible to give Dean a chance to... get away? I mean, where was he going to go? We couldn't leave... we were like, 10 years old.
But alas, we were small, and Mr. Jim was able to bypass us and grab Dean moments later. The cheese was recaptured, and another teacher, Ms. Deb, was enlisted to guard the other staircase. Knowing that our chances of sneaking back upstairs now were basically shot to hell, we had to rethink our plan.
We decided on a good ol' fashioned protest. We took markers, crayons and paper and made probably a hundred signs. We went around telling our story to all the other kids at daycare and rallied up probably 20 sympathizers. We gave them each a stack of signs and told them to start posting them all over the building. They read: "FREE THE CHEESE!"
Within 30 minutes of giving them the green light, the walls were plastered with our propaganda. Mr. Jim and Ms. Deb (foolishly) left their posts in a feeble attempt to stop the chaos. They were running around frantically, throwing kids in time out, and ripping papers off the walls. This was our chance.
We rushed upstairs, threw open the refrigerator, grabbed the cheese and ran back downstairs. I'll never forget seeing Dean holding the cheese triumphantly over his head, huge grin etched on his face, walking through the building to raucous cheers and applause. (Not from the teachers, obviously, but I am not exaggerating when I tell you that, by this point, pretty much every child at that daycare was emotionally invested in this cause. I mean, we were bored... every day. We had given these kids excitement! Even if it was only for a few minutes, they were hyped. We were their Gods.)
At this point, the rest of the memory is pretty hazy... How it was resolved, I don't rightly know. I wish I could tell you that the teachers gave up and we got to play(?) with our cheese the rest of the day, but I can guarantee you that it was re-confiscated and we didn't get it back again. We probably ended up in time out, got our parents called, and then got lectured when we went home for the day. But, damn it, what a day!
I didn't type this story out of my head for any reason other than to share a funny, relevant moment of my life with you, but it actually speaks volumes about how I feel about rules and/or laws today: If a rule serves no purpose, other than to restrict my freedoms or make the rule maker feel more powerful, I find it stupid and I will not follow it.
This philosophy has gotten me into trouble with teachers and parents, but I think it has also gotten my point across to them at times. Having rules just to have them is silly, and enforcing them is sillier! What were a couple of 10 year old kids going to do with a slice of cheese that was so horrible? Surely it can't be any worse than what happened when Mr. Jim took it from us!
And really, it was taking it from us that made us want it so bad! If Mr. Jim had left us alone, we would have either eaten it outright, or played with it for all of 2 minutes before we decided it was stupid and trashed it. In this scenario, a rule was created to prevent a possible bad situation, and in turn, it created an even worse situation.
I'm not suggesting that everyone go do whatever they want, break all the rules, and tell law enforcement officers to blow it out their ass. (Seriously, don't.) But you should definitely question what is going on around you. If people tell you how to act and you don't question why, you are ultimately just a slave to others.
This is the Almighty Helmet, signing off.
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