Two Bibson Geefeaters

by Kirk Carter Mona

Sixteen years ago, I sat in a windowless high school literature classroom digesting the best short stories of American authors. After a thorough examination of all the subtleties of John Updike’s A&P, we turned to the John Cheever short story “Reunion.” It features a son and father reconnecting for lunch after years of separation. Our teacher was very excited to expose us to the work and when we finished reading it, she somehow brought the conversation around to the dad in the story being an alcoholic. We all sat there with blanker-than-normal looks on our teenage faces. Not a single kid in the class had a clue what she was talking about. We were wondering how on earth she knew he was an alcoholic when the text said nothing of the sort and she was wondering how we couldn’t see something so obviously woven into the narrative of the story.

My teacher incredulously pointed out to us 16-year-olds that the dad ordered “two Bibson Geefeaters.” She looked at us expectantly. We returned more blank stares. “You know,” she said by way of explanation, “instead of two Beefeater Gibsons.”

It apparently never occurred to my teacher that a bunch of 16-year-olds didn’t have enough experience in the realm of drinking to know what a Beefeater Gibson was or to notice he was drunk because he flubbed the name of the drink. I’m left with the conclusion that either this was the first time she had used the story in class or all of the 16-year-olds before us had been much larger consumers of quality English gin.

Because we’d never heard of a Beefeater Gibson, we had no reference point for the social cue that the father was drunk and mangling the language. Our Italian language skills being weak to non-existent, we also didn’t understand what he said to the waiter when he ordered his cocktail with, “Molto gin, poco vermut.” Going back and reading the story again as an adult, it is clear that almost every paragraph hints at the father’s alcoholism, but to us kids, he just seemed like a strange guy.

Finding the right words so audiences of every age will understand your message is one of the most difficult tasks we face as interpreters. This is interpretation in the classic sense of the word (i.e., making something understandable to another person). Freeman Tilden specifically pointed out that interpretation for children should not be a watered-down version of adult programs. In this respect, choosing your language is key to being successful. Your audience should dictate your choices. This is especially important when it comes to the analogies and explanations we use for challenging new concepts. Kids won’t understand the same cultural references adults will.

Not to be too hard on my high school teacher, just today while teaching a digital nature photography class, I made a similar mistake. I was trying to explain a little about the history of photography and how people used to enjoy collecting photos back when they first became available. It is hard for us to imagine what a sensation photographs were. Collecting photos was a genuine craze. I made a reference to Pokémon cards and was met with those same blank stares. When I began teaching this class four years ago, the Pokémon reference worked great. What kind of cards do kids collect these days? Yugioh? Apparently not. Even baseball cards drew a borderline confused look to their faces. These references, which were timely and hot just a few years ago, are now lost on my audience. I quickly realized with some math in my head that Pokémon cards first came out in 1999, which also happens to be the year most of my students were born.

Not only is it important to have different ways to explain concepts to audiences of different ages, but our references must be current. What works one year may not work next year. This is even more true with youth and kids, as they have a shorter cultural experience timeline from which to draw. I always used to explain to groups that my name is Kirk, as in Captain Kirk. Not only was this memorable, it prevented me from being mistaken for a Curt. About 10 years ago, I realized that no one in my audiences had any idea who Captain Kirk was. Oddly, with the new Star Trek movie out, fifth graders have begun calling me “Captain” all on their own. Some cultural references come back in style.

In the end, the advice for programs is the same as for a proper Beefeater Gibson. Don’t water it down, make it right. We need neither confused audiences nor Bibson Geefeaters.

Kirk Mona is the outreach coordinator for the Lee and Rose Warner Nature Center in Marine on St. Croix, Minnesota. He has been an NAI member since 1996. Kirk welcomes your comments at kmona@smm.org.