Sheryl Green: What can we learn from a bologna sandwich?

I went to visit my mom a few days ago. I always like going to her house. She has satellite TV.

At my house, we only have three channels, but mom has the deluxe package, so I always enjoy channel surfing when I go to her house.

On this particular day, I finally decided to watch “Duck Dynasty.” I know, I know. Giggle all you want, but when you’re watching TV with your mother, you just don’t want to be embarrassed by a show with inappropriate content, and even though “Duck Dynasty” is not for everyone, at least the show is decent.

The episode involved Willie, the main character, trying to perfect a sandwich for his new restaurant. He wanted the sandwich to be built around one main ingredient – bologna.

I admit, I used to eat bologna sandwiches when I was a kid. I would even eat the mystery meat all by itself sometimes. Never in my childlike mind did I consider the concoction of leftover byproducts smooshed together into a tube and then squished out into sandwich slices. But, then, I grew up.

I grew up into an awareness of just what is inside bologna — and hot dogs and potted meat and Vienna sausages and Spam and all the other crazy things I used to eat as a kid.

But just like me as a kid, Willie of “Duck Dynasty” didn’t seem to mind the mystery of what’s inside his beloved meat. He was determined to create a tasty masterpiece.

Now, I don’t know where the ideas for these columns come from sometimes. It’s the workings of a quirky mind, for sure, but for some odd reason, my muse is currently focused on bologna. When the idea first struck me, I asked the same question you are asking right now. What does “Duck Dynasty” and bologna have to do with the public school classroom?

I was told a long time ago, if you can’t pronounce what’s in the ingredients list, don’t eat it. Now that I know that helpful hint, I force myself to do without many things, which is hard sometimes. In the case of food, ignorance really is a tasteful bliss. But, I try my best to exist far from the bliss of such tasty treats as bologna and Little Debbie cakes and Kraft Mac & Cheese. I push these things aside because I am now aware of their ickiness to my innards.

There’s the important correlation between bologna and education.

It would certainly be nice to have a highly educated, thoroughly trained dietician to read the ingredients of everything we ate and make healthy choices for us. That’s a utopian wish. But that desire is actually quite realistic in the realm of our local public school system.

Assuredly, some byproducts smooshed together and called public education are simply not natural — rather illogical, and on the verge of being full of malarkey. The logic behind some decisions and mandates are a mystery to us all. But in a world full of such bologna, rest assured that your child’s education is in the hands of highly educated and thoroughly trained experts. Before policy reaches the classrooms, before lessons reach the child, the contents are evaluated and filtered so that every child served is presented the most wholesome, beneficial education our local school system can provide.

Awareness of what works best for our local students drives decisions. Your local classroom teachers strive diligently to read the figurative labels of what they’re feeding your children. They don’t operate in ignorance or in bliss. They operate in sound judgment. They look at the health of the whole child, and make choices according to the overall benefit of the child. Through trial and error, through research, through competent training, your local classroom teacher creates a menu of sustained health for every child sitting at the table.

From the captain of the Muscogee County School District and his support staff to the classroom teacher to the custodial staff to everyone and everything in between, the ingredients that make up this premier school district are simply natural, clearly pronounceable. They are naturals at what they do. Their dedication to their craft is well defined and recognizable. They are called and destined. Trained and qualified. Pronounceable additives to stand and serve the children of this community.

And that’s simply no bologna.

This story was originally published June 21, 2016 at 4:39 PM with the headline "Sheryl Green: What can we learn from a bologna sandwich?."