Thursday, February 16, 2012

The Hangup

I was in two special classes in Junior High.  For one, I was taken out of half of my Language Arts classes so that I could sit in the special needs classroom and draw words with my finger in a box of sand.  The school did this because my spelling didn't progress beyond that of a kid in grade five, and they didn't realize at the time that autocorrect would be here to save the day.

In a fit or irony that the school never clued into, I was also taken out of the remaining Language Arts and some History classes to attend a class called "Challenge".  I was enrolled in that class because apparently my IQ was too high and they needed way to keep me.... well, challenged.  (I can say this without bragging because a later knock on the head divested me of any surplus brain cells that I might have had, and left me struggling to maintain an average IQ.)  Each year for Challenge, I was assigned to whatever teacher happened to have a free period during my language arts and history classes.  They gave me tasks   to keep me occupied during this time so that I'd then have to work harder - on my own time - to keep up with the classes that I'd be removed from.

In grade 8, I was assigned to the high school biology teacher.   The projects that he gave me were to dissect things - I started small with squids and frogs, and moved up to a shark and a pig.  Being the daughter of a physician, I was OK with the dissection.  What I wasn't OK with was that following the dissection, the teacher fired up the bunsen burners, and expected me to cook and eat the remains of some of the animals.

I'll pause here to let you think about that a little bit and let it sink in.

It's probably enough said on the subject, and sufficent explanation about why I am so selective when I eat meat.

I don't eat anything in it's original form, so roasted chicken or turkey is out, as would be most seafood if I wasn't already allergic to it.  I don't eat anything that has bones, skin, visible blood vessels, fat or grissel.   And because I've got a vivid imagination, don't eat anything like hot dogs or processed meats that are likely to contain any of the above.  When I cook with meat, I almost always start with it frozen, because otherwise the texture of it grosses me out.

Most days, I find it easier to skip the meat than not.  When I do eat it, I limit myself to boneless, skinless chicken breasts or cuts of bison.  The meat that I buy comes from a store that  specializes in organic meat from animals who have been raised humanely.  He doesn't sell anything that can't be cut up with a sharp knife (ie - no hidden gross parts), and he's willing to let me pick out a roast that he'll grind while I wait so that I know exactly what I'm eating.


  1. Janice seriously on the consumption of the dissected animals? No, nada, no way could I do that but that could give you an Olympic award winning gag reflex!

  2. Child Abuse. That's what that was. GROSS.

  3. I agree with the zadge. I am horrified for you, and wish untold evil upon the teacher who did this.