I&E Programs, Alligators, and the Process of Elimination
As part of the job, Texas Game Wardens are required to present several I&E (information and education) programs to civic organizations, private groups, schools and such each fiscal year. School programs were always my favorite, especially the younger kids. Every year from 2000 to 2006, I presented an I&E program to the 3rd and 4th graders of Flour Bluff Elementary during their “Oceans Week”.
I focused my program on fish identification and the law. In preparation, I collected unlawfully taken fish and kept them in boxes in the boat barn freezer. I had undersized black drum, red drum, spotted seatrout, gafftopsail catfish, cobia, red snapper, several species of shark and I don’t know what all.
That first Ocean’s Week program went well. I set up two large ice chests and two tables in the school library and gave the same program six different times to cover all the classes. Basically, I’d just reach into an ice chest, pull out a fish, and then talk about whatever kind of fish it was before putting it back in the ice chest. It was a hit.
The following year, I was back in the library with all the fish I had brought the first time as well as additional specimens I had come across in the interim that I thought might assist me in providing a top-notch, high-entertainmentvalue experience for kids of Flour Bluff. Again, everything went well with the programs, but I received a fair number of complaints after I left. Apparently, the lingering smell of year-old, freezer-burnt fish has a deleterious effect on learning and comprehension in elementary-aged children. Who knew?? The next year, they moved me outside.
The best part about the move outside was that I could present to a larger audience, and I wouldn’t have to do as many programs. AND – I had a secret weapon. In library parlance, I guess you could say I “checked out” a threefoot alligator from the Texas State Aquarium. I know, an alligator loan program sounds crazy, but it really was a thing.
Anyway, that third year I shortened the fish part of the program, and for the finale, I brought out the alligator! Its mouth was taped shut, and I held it while kids filed by and touched it on their way out. A teacher demonstrated how the process would work before the kids were lined up. Then, she stood off to my side with a bottle of hand sanitizer the kids applied before and after touching the gator.
My first volunteer assistant was a nice young lady who couldn’t have been a teacher for more than a year or two. The kids loved her, and she did great… until suddenly, things went horribly awry.
Before we get to that, you should know that alligators don’t have bladders and don’t produce urine. As I understand it, their process of elimination involves the passage of some sort of a slurry that’s a combination of feces and nitrogenous waste - “poop” and “pee” to a 3rd grader that they pass through a cloaca. That’s how the “horribly awry” part went down: when my teacher assistant walked up to demonstrate how the kids were to proceed, a foul smelling globulus mist shot out of that gator and covered that poor teacher’s left arm. She was horrified, mortified and a few other “fieds” that have yet to be defined.
There was a moment of silence as the teacher, her face unrecognizably contorted, motioned to get her arm as far away from her body as possible. The kids responded with a mixture of nervous laughter and terrified shrieks. I handed her a towel. She cleaned up as best she could, made a joke I can’t remember, and continued doing her job. Kudos to her.
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