Bachelor of Arts, Ohio University, 2009, English
In elementary school, there was one game that we played time and again that extended beyond the confines of the playground: “Opposite Day.” There wasn't much to it, really, both in terms of structure and outcome. One would make a statement to someone else, and after that individual reacted to said statement, the initiator responded with “It's Opposite Day!” That was it; a silly way for us to pass the time before that long-awaited bus ride home.
It was a funny game, especially if the class clown had the guts to involve the teacher. In such an instance, an interaction like this might occur:
Ernie: I love math, Miss Vaughn.
Miss Vaughn: That's great, Ernie. I'm glad to hear that.
Ernie: It's Opposite Day!
The classroom would erupt in laughter, and a lot of times it included the teacher (depending on his or her mood). However, the game could also be cruel. Kids are mean, and “Opposite Day” could be used more as a prank than a game. The kid who always gets picked on is approached by a group of popular kids; one of them says something like “Hey, we want you to be a part of our club” or “We're having a sleepover tonight – you should come.” Instantly, an innocent childhood game turns into a heartless joke.
At times, life can be quite similar. For example, much of what we are taught is a truth about the world is, in fact, the opposite. We have expectations and hopes about life that end up with opposite results. And we often find ourselves saying and doing the opposite of what we've told ourselves we would. But just like the ridiculed child who returns to school the next day to face his tormentors, we shake it off and press on toward whatever positive outcomes we might possibly find. Because, in the end, this is just a game.
Committee: Mark Halliday PhD (Advisor)
Subjects: English literature