Are you a strict rule-follower?
Or do you ever make a little trouble, like pulling pranks or testing the boundaries of your parents and teachers? Do you find these kinds of mischievous acts irritating? Or might they be misunderstood? In “The Misunderstood Art of Mischief,” Vauhini Vara writes about how motherhood taught her how to appreciate tiny gestures toward nonconformism: In kindergarten last school year, my son received an assignment to draw a portrait of his family. He sketched an abstract shape, to start. It vaguely resembled an elephant, and I told him so. “It is,” he said, and then his expression grew naughty — he had an idea, just then. He drew a little form in front of it, which he said was himself. He and the elephant were both pink, his favorite color. The elephant appeared to be shouting with joy. He uploaded the image to the school’s online learning platform. “This is me and my elephant,” he said in an attached recording. “I rode on him once. It’s so fun!” This tiny gesture toward nonconformism — I admired it. As a child, I used to be the one who complained to the teacher when others broke with homework orthodoxy. My sister and I, children of Indian immigrants, were raised in a small town in Saskatchewan; achieving the professional and personal greatness for which we were destined, according to our mother, would require absolute adherence to the rules of the academic game. That approach served me well enough in the years that followed; now here I am, a mortgage-paying, child-rearing adult, great enough. But watching my own son, I recognized something I didn’t as a child — it was original, this willfully mischievous reinterpretation of the assignment. There was some artistry involved. Mischief has a reputation for causing destruction. The word itself derives from the Old French “meschief,” which refers to misfortune, harm, injury. The Cat in the Hat turns up and makes a mess just when the mother is due home. Paul McCartney’s troublemaking grandfather in “A Hard Day’s Night” persuades Ringo to go explore on his own, putting the band at risk of missing its important gig. But then, the Cat doesn’t merely make a mess — he also balances a fishbowl on a rake while holding a full birthday cake atop his head. Paul’s grandfather doesn’t merely put the gig in danger — he also delivers some of the most captivating, delightful scenes of the film, as Ringo joins up with a 10-year-old fellow wanderer on the banks of the Thames River. The best mischief makers know what they’re doing: The destruction they visit upon their targets is always in service of some grander aesthetic purpose.
The guest essay continues:
Mischief has often been a creative, anarchic weapon of defense among the marginalized: free, adaptable, difficult to control. The ur-trickster of American culture, Brer Rabbit, was derived from Southern Black folk tales passed down between generations of enslaved people; characters like him, the scholar Emily Zobel Marshall has written, could outwit plantation slavery “using some of the few means available to them; their cunning, intelligence and linguistic wit.” Other traditions have their own folk heroes: There’s Coyote, who appears in stories from numerous Native American cultures; Anansi, from West African myths; Maui the Polynesian; Loki the Scandinavian.
In my favorite trickster stories, in myth and in life, mischief even has a restorative power — its apparent badness eventually giving way to reveal an inherent idealism of spirit.
Veronica H., a student from California, responded to Ms. Vara’s essay in her submission to our Summer Reading Contest:
Once in 2nd grade, during art class, we were split into pairs to create our own Matisse cut-outs and glue them onto colorful backgrounds. As I was cutting the abstract people, I figured it would be a sincere gesture to provide the poor little humans with bikinis. I went through great lengths to cut the tiny red triangles and circles, and we did a great deal of giggling. My efforts were met with a scolding, and the tragic fates of the bikinis landed in Mrs. Thomas’ hands.
Vauhini Vara captures the importance of this type of “mischief.” She views it as being “always in service of some grander aesthetic purpose,” which I can wholeheartedly relate to in my failed bikini-cutting experience. The direct link between creativity and its naughty edge preserves our inner child even as we age.
Vara further holds that mischief acts as a form of self-satisfactory revenge that is “free, adaptable, difficult to control.” However, I believe it is important to differentiate between benign naughtiness and switching your contact lenses with your partner’s, as she envisioned. Mischief should be kept as childish creativity rather than “stealth power in times of apparent powerlessness,” which can result in damaged trust and physical harm. It should not be “destructive” — merely creatively annoying. And I can assure you of the heartbreak when innocent mischief is viewed as only annoying and not creative. Oh, my poor now-naked Matisse cut-outs!
Students, read the entire article and then tell us:
Do you tend to follow rules, or do you like to make a little mischief? Why or why not? Are you drawn to tricksters and mischief makers, such as the Cat in the Hat, Brer Rabbit or Anansi? Or are you like Ms. Vara, the writer of the original essay, who as a child “complained to the teacher when others broke with homework orthodoxy”?
If you do like a little mischievous fun, tell us a story from your life using Veronica H.’s story of her second-grade Matisse cutout project as inspiration. What was your mischievous deed? What motivated you? And what was the outcome of your action? Looking back on the act now, what deeper meaning, if any, did your mischief-making have?
If you generally follow the rules, why? What do you see as the benefits of abiding by the expectations of others? How do you view people who rebel against these kinds of constraints?
How does reading the article change your understanding and appreciation of the art of mischief? How persuasive is Ms. Vara’s case? Is mischief always “in service of some grander aesthetic purpose”? Do you agree with her claim that mischief has often been “a creative, anarchic weapon of defense among the marginalized”?
Veronica writes that it is important to differentiate between “benign naughtiness and switching your contact lenses with your partner’s” and argues that “mischief should be kept as childish creativity rather than ‘stealth power in times of apparent powerlessness,’ which can result in damaged trust and physical harm.” Do you agree with her criticisms of Ms. Vara’s argument? When would you say that mischief crosses the line and becomes negative or harmful?
If you had children, would you encourage them to embrace tiny gestures of nonconformity and the art of mischief? Why or why not? How do you deal with someone who's an extreme rule follower?
The person I'm talking about will have serious rage over people not following the rules...
Like we saw kids jaywalking, and they ranted for a good 15 minutes for why the kids shouldn't do it...and they're always complaining like that.
I don't know what to say anymore. It's like when someone breaks the most mild rule, they lose it.
What makes people be like this? It's not just anger, it's like they also have this extreme discomfort with rule breaking. Why are some people hardcore rule followers, while others love to rebel?
Like why do some people take rules extremely seriously while other people love and even relish breaking the rules? I feel like I have to do everything right even if it’s a minor rule. Same with directions for assignments, I get really anxious if I’m unsure if I followed them 100% perfectly. It’s not about even about the consequences because I’d still get anxious by breaking rules even if I knew I’d never get caught or wouldn’t get any lower of a grade. My therapist tells me I shouldn’t be so literal and I’m allowed to bend rules sometimes but why are they there then? Anyone have some advice for this? I used to be a huge rule follower
I used to be so obsessed with rules when I was a teen. All I wanted was to be "good". Everyone else didn't care about their image and partied and got wasted and high and just did whatever. I envied them, but I just couldn't let myself have fun too. I always wondered why I was like that, and I think I finally know why now.
I was obsessed with getting perfect grades or being the model child because that was my whole identity. I was copying how my parents acted. It meant everything to them that our family had a perfect image. I copied my parents' personalities to a perfect T. They didn't have hobbies or go to parties either. I was just like them.
My life only changed when I decided to listen to other people besides my parents. I copied the new people instead, I guess... So these days I'm obsessed with Kawaii/Anime, various celebrities, TV series, etc. Having multiple things to do with my time, means that I don't care about having a perfect image anymore. And I don't speak to my mother and father that much. They have way less of an influence on me now. And I'm much happier that way. Mischief makers, what were you suspended/expelled for as a kid?
The guest essay continues:
Mischief has often been a creative, anarchic weapon of defense among the marginalized: free, adaptable, difficult to control. The ur-trickster of American culture, Brer Rabbit, was derived from Southern Black folk tales passed down between generations of enslaved people; characters like him, the scholar Emily Zobel Marshall has written, could outwit plantation slavery “using some of the few means available to them; their cunning, intelligence and linguistic wit.” Other traditions have their own folk heroes: There’s Coyote, who appears in stories from numerous Native American cultures; Anansi, from West African myths; Maui the Polynesian; Loki the Scandinavian.
In my favorite trickster stories, in myth and in life, mischief even has a restorative power — its apparent badness eventually giving way to reveal an inherent idealism of spirit.
Veronica H., a student from California, responded to Ms. Vara’s essay in her submission to our Summer Reading Contest:
Once in 2nd grade, during art class, we were split into pairs to create our own Matisse cut-outs and glue them onto colorful backgrounds. As I was cutting the abstract people, I figured it would be a sincere gesture to provide the poor little humans with bikinis. I went through great lengths to cut the tiny red triangles and circles, and we did a great deal of giggling. My efforts were met with a scolding, and the tragic fates of the bikinis landed in Mrs. Thomas’ hands.
Vauhini Vara captures the importance of this type of “mischief.” She views it as being “always in service of some grander aesthetic purpose,” which I can wholeheartedly relate to in my failed bikini-cutting experience. The direct link between creativity and its naughty edge preserves our inner child even as we age.
Vara further holds that mischief acts as a form of self-satisfactory revenge that is “free, adaptable, difficult to control.” However, I believe it is important to differentiate between benign naughtiness and switching your contact lenses with your partner’s, as she envisioned. Mischief should be kept as childish creativity rather than “stealth power in times of apparent powerlessness,” which can result in damaged trust and physical harm. It should not be “destructive” — merely creatively annoying. And I can assure you of the heartbreak when innocent mischief is viewed as only annoying and not creative. Oh, my poor now-naked Matisse cut-outs!
Students, read the entire article and then tell us:
Do you tend to follow rules, or do you like to make a little mischief? Why or why not? Are you drawn to tricksters and mischief makers, such as the Cat in the Hat, Brer Rabbit or Anansi? Or are you like Ms. Vara, the writer of the original essay, who as a child “complained to the teacher when others broke with homework orthodoxy”?
If you do like a little mischievous fun, tell us a story from your life using Veronica H.’s story of her second-grade Matisse cutout project as inspiration. What was your mischievous deed? What motivated you? And what was the outcome of your action? Looking back on the act now, what deeper meaning, if any, did your mischief-making have?
If you generally follow the rules, why? What do you see as the benefits of abiding by the expectations of others? How do you view people who rebel against these kinds of constraints?
How does reading the article change your understanding and appreciation of the art of mischief? How persuasive is Ms. Vara’s case? Is mischief always “in service of some grander aesthetic purpose”? Do you agree with her claim that mischief has often been “a creative, anarchic weapon of defense among the marginalized”?
Veronica writes that it is important to differentiate between “benign naughtiness and switching your contact lenses with your partner’s” and argues that “mischief should be kept as childish creativity rather than ‘stealth power in times of apparent powerlessness,’ which can result in damaged trust and physical harm.” Do you agree with her criticisms of Ms. Vara’s argument? When would you say that mischief crosses the line and becomes negative or harmful?
If you had children, would you encourage them to embrace tiny gestures of nonconformity and the art of mischief? Why or why not? How do you deal with someone who's an extreme rule follower?
The person I'm talking about will have serious rage over people not following the rules...
Like we saw kids jaywalking, and they ranted for a good 15 minutes for why the kids shouldn't do it...and they're always complaining like that.
I don't know what to say anymore. It's like when someone breaks the most mild rule, they lose it.
What makes people be like this? It's not just anger, it's like they also have this extreme discomfort with rule breaking. Why are some people hardcore rule followers, while others love to rebel?
Like why do some people take rules extremely seriously while other people love and even relish breaking the rules? I feel like I have to do everything right even if it’s a minor rule. Same with directions for assignments, I get really anxious if I’m unsure if I followed them 100% perfectly. It’s not about even about the consequences because I’d still get anxious by breaking rules even if I knew I’d never get caught or wouldn’t get any lower of a grade. My therapist tells me I shouldn’t be so literal and I’m allowed to bend rules sometimes but why are they there then? Anyone have some advice for this? I used to be a huge rule follower
I used to be so obsessed with rules when I was a teen. All I wanted was to be "good". Everyone else didn't care about their image and partied and got wasted and high and just did whatever. I envied them, but I just couldn't let myself have fun too. I always wondered why I was like that, and I think I finally know why now.
I was obsessed with getting perfect grades or being the model child because that was my whole identity. I was copying how my parents acted. It meant everything to them that our family had a perfect image. I copied my parents' personalities to a perfect T. They didn't have hobbies or go to parties either. I was just like them.
My life only changed when I decided to listen to other people besides my parents. I copied the new people instead, I guess... So these days I'm obsessed with Kawaii/Anime, various celebrities, TV series, etc. Having multiple things to do with my time, means that I don't care about having a perfect image anymore. And I don't speak to my mother and father that much. They have way less of an influence on me now. And I'm much happier that way. Mischief makers, what were you suspended/expelled for as a kid?
