Hey World—I Count!

My true self is a researcher. I am the kind of researcher who counts things to prove or disprove hypothesis. I am a data collector. I’ve been collecting data since the age of three. I count.

From whence does this counting obsession come? A shadow of a memory haunts me, my mother holding my hand tightly and saying, “One foot, two feet, three feet, four, now count with me.” and up the staircase we would rise together counting out loud. I had a deep phobia by age 2 of stairs. I had good reason, my older siblings thought it was fun to watch the baby tumble down them.

The counting stuck as a way to calm and occupy my brain. I count stairs, 13 up to the bedroom. I count steps, 17 to the closest bathroom at work, 1271 from car to office door, 52 from front door to car. I count heads, 25 out of 31 students today. I even have my students counting and tallying things each class.

My research career began at age 3. I counted all the insect comings and goings in a square foot grid. Laid on my stomach in the cool grass with early spring sunshine on my back and silently watched and counted the movement of other living things for 8 hours. My happy place.

At age 12, the entire class was sent to the local cemetery to count all the soldiers who died when General Sherman’s army marched through Oxford, Mississippi. We each had clipboards and dittoed pages to record our data. We could decide for ourselves how to organize the information. Our options were by age, by month, by family name—our choice. I choose by month and age. I added a second ditto sheet to my clipboard. I noticed that there seemed to be a lot of babies born nine months after the devastating march through Lafayette County. I counted the births as well. When I compared my assigned data, to the data I discovered it turned out more children were born nine months after the march than soldiers died because of the attack.

I reported my findings with pride and great expectations of praise and glory. I was surprised to be admonished by the teacher. My project was discounted for unlady like thoughts. I received a failing grade. At home I was celebrated for being a dutiful researcher and using data to discover the facts. At least at home I counted.

More recently, I was admonished for being rude at a department retreat. The accusation entailed the crime of interrupting people. Really? Have you listened to yourselves I thought. I was to endure 8 more hours with these toxic-broken women. I choose my go to stress relief strategy-I counted. I choose to be silent and count all the interruptions I heard.

To prove or disprove the hypothesis and answer the question: Are my accusers as innocent of interrupting each other as they claimed? If yes, I would apologize and attempt to change my behavior. Let the data speak!

The department chair had given each of us a little clipboards, how ironic! I made a chart to collect my data, a row for each of the accusers, columns for every 15 minutes. I spent 4 hours silently tallying every interruption, every “yeah, but.” Early into the counting I added a category of overlapping speak. So many were interrupting each other so rapidly I couldn’t capture the counts as single episodes. I added a second page to my clipboard so I could jot down the exact language and phrases used when someone interrupted someone else.

My silence did not go unnoticed, and I was called out at lunch break by the supervisor. I let the data speak. The thing I had not predicted was that she and primary accuser/complainer were the top two interrupters. My supervisor racked up 47 interruptions of others’ thinking in a span of an hour. Thirteen ideas shot down with “yeah, but…” interrupts.

She unsurprisingly burst into a fit of anger and tried to turn against me again. “We may interrupt each other, but we do it respectfully.” I flipped the chart and showed her just how disrespectful the interruptions were. She turned beat red as she read the transcript dialogue I had captured. The data was clear and loud.

Good news, my counting eventually got me transferred to a different department, one where counting counts!

In each example, my true-self shines through, I count. I seek answers to questions and verify answers through counting. When attacked for being who I am, I will seek data to count to confirm or deny the premise. If wrong, I am willing to admit it. If justified, I crow because I count!