Skip to main content

The Y Chromosome Chronicles: Lessons Learned the Hard Way

Image
By

Let’s start this blog post off with a simple thought: I have a Y chromosome. For many, this is a “news flash” moment, but for others, it explains a lot. Women have XX chromosomes, and guys have XY chromosomes. That Y chromosome carries certain… tendencies. With regularity, when I am having what I call “Greg moments,” I warn people in advance:

“I have a Y chromosome… talk to me slowly, look at me when you talk, don’t use big words, don’t be multisyllabic, don’t assume I got you the first time, and understand that I am more of a hands-on type of guy.”

Sometimes, having a Y chromosome simply means I am going to do things that are just plain stupid. Take this weekend, for example.

We did spring cleaning in the four-stall garage (which, for the record, only one car will actually fit in), and around the yard. This included power washing everything — the stairs, siding, front porch, car, yard equipment, toys, and even the lawn chairs.

Now, I’ve owned a power washer for years, but I’ve only recently become a regular consumer of its services. Amid all the spray-downs, I made a decision that will forever live in the “What was I thinking?” category.

I decided to clean off my hands with the power washer. Note to self: never, ever do that again. In a heartbeat, I lost a good portion of epidermis on my middle finger. One spray. No skin. Instant regret. Immediate life lesson.

If that wasn’t bad enough, things escalated.

After everything dried, I started folding up the lawn chairs and decided to test a couple of them out. One was a rocker. I sat down, leaned back, and promptly flipped over backwards in spectacular fashion.

Quite painfully, I might add.

It turns out there is a safety pin you are supposed to secure before using the chair. Apparently, having a Y chromosome occasionally negates reading instructions.

So there I was… laid out on the ground, staring at the sky.

Taking my own advice from an earlier blog, I watched the clouds go by, listened to the birds, and communed with nature for a long time. Oddly enough, I did not achieve the peace and tranquility I was hoping for.

After an extended introduction to the backyard ecosystem, I found the pin, inserted it, grabbed a hard cider (for medicinal purposes, obviously), and tried again.

Same result.

Back on the ground. Looking at the sky. Listening to birds. Reconsidering life choices.

It turns out the pin was supposed to go above the hole, not below it, which would have kept the frame from collapsing like a cheap lawn chair… which, ironically, it was.

Lesson learned.

The good news?
No cider was spilled.
I had two encounters with nature.
And I now have a very sore back and tender shoulders to remind me of my educational experience.

Lessons learned from a guy with a Y chromosome:

  • Power washers are not hand-cleaning devices.
  • Lawn chairs require instructions.
  • Safety pins exist for a reason.
  • Nature is less peaceful when you land on it unexpectedly.
  • Hard cider is an acceptable form of field medicine.
  • The Y chromosome is both a blessing and a public safety concern.

And so, ends another educational weekend in the life of a man with a Y chromosome — a journey filled with power tools, lawn furniture, poor decision-making, and unexpected quality time with the backyard. Some people read instruction manuals, some people watch YouTube tutorials, and then there are people like me… we learn through minor injuries, gravity checks, and trial-and-error field research. The good news is I survived, the garage is clean, the lawn chairs are now properly secured, and my finger will eventually grow skin again. The moral of the story? Having a Y chromosome doesn’t make you reckless… it just means you occasionally conduct hands-on experiments that the rest of society wisely avoids. And if nothing else, at least the cider stayed upright — which, in my book, qualifies the entire weekend as a success.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Inclusion - Giving Students What They Need to Succeed

By
I officially surrendered my man card the day I said, “I do,” back in 1987.  Apparently, there are no returns. Yesterday I wept in my office. Not the dignified, single-tear kind of weeping. I’m talking full-on, reach-for-the-Kleenex, thank-God-the-door-is-closed weeping. We had just told a parent—whose child is on the spectrum—that we believe in her son, and we want him to stay at our school. Those words cost us something. They cost planning. They cost resources. They cost energy. But they didn’t cost us our mission. And here’s the irony: this conversation came on the heels of another one where I had to tell a “potential family” that we didn’t believe our school was the right fit for their children. Same day. Same office. Same principal. Two completely different outcomes. If you’ve ever wondered whether there’s an internal battle between a principal’s head and heart, let me assure you—it’s not theoretical. It’s daily. And sometimes it’s exhausting. Like most of my blogs, there’s a b...
Post a Comment
Read more

On Humanity, Rumor, and the Discipline of Decency

By
Every so often, the world reminds us, sometimes gently, sometimes with a jolt, that God’s plan for us still runs through the old, unfashionable virtues: love, charity, humility, friendship. Not as slogans. As practices. Lately, the reminder hasn’t come through a clear, verified tragedy so much as through the way we react to rumor, outrage, and one another. In an age where headlines race ahead of facts and partisanship outpaces compassion, the simplest test of our humanity may be this: Do we refuse to cheer the suffering, real or rumored, of those we disagree with? I think about friendship across differences. Actor James Woods once said of director Rob Reiner that political differences never stood in the way of their love and respect for each other. Reiner fought for Woods when others wouldn’t. They worked together. They remained friends. That’s how it is in the real world, or at least how it should be. You don’t have to agree to stay human. I also think about families who live with add...
1 comment
Read more

Reigniting the Fire: From Embers to Flame

By
  There’s a moment in an interview with Michael Franti that’s stayed with me. He spoke about how a roaring fire, once reduced to embers, doesn’t need much to come alive again, just a gentle breath, a little attention, a whisper of wind. And suddenly, the flame returns. That image, embers waiting patiently for someone to believe in their potential, feels deeply personal. Franti once said, “I think of love as an action. Finding something that’s outside of yourself, to serve someone else’s soul, helping to ignite someone else’s spirit, to bring about ease of heart and joy, serenity in somebody else.” That quote reminds me that reigniting a fire, whether in us or in others, is about connection. It’s about showing up, listening, and offering warmth when someone feels cold inside. Not long ago, I found myself in a place I never expected to be. The fire inside me had dimmed. Life hadn’t knocked me down in one dramatic blow; it had chipped away, little by little. Leadership challen...
2 comments
Read more