I went to visit one of my elders and she said, “I was thinking about you, and how you used to play with those ants. They used to bite the hell out of us. I mean, they would tear us up — but they never bit you.”
Now, I don’t know if that’s entirely true. They may have bitten me now and then, but it was the lessons I received as a child from the ants, and our amazing conversations that stuck with me throughout my whole life.
Another elder said, “We use to go in the house and watch out the window as you talked to those ants like they were real people.”
I thought to myself, “Yes, this is true.” I am not one who understands language patterning and how they seem flawless when understood, but I felt like I understood their communication. I was absolutely fascinated with them.
I believe it was because of them that I got one of my nicknames, “Dirt”, which is short for Dirtdriver. Day in and day out I would dig for them, watch them, and when the soldier ants came for me, I picked them up, harassed them, and then put them down only to watch them fight one another. I would feverishly search trees and dig big ditches. When I found them, I would disrupt their work and watch them create new routes. I watched them solve problems created by me. I watched their organizational skills and their ability to modify habitats. I couldn’t get enough, it was one of the best times of my young life, and it didn’t matter rain or shine, I would search and dig. I looked like I dived in a pool, full of dirt. My hair and my socks saturated with mud and dirt. This happened all before I received my first gun. This happened all before I knew I was watching a highly organized insect. I remember, a dear older cousin, who has since lost his life, to gun violence, asked,
“How is it possible for you to be that dirty? Man, how do dirt get in your ears, your eyebrows and all over your face?”
The ant was my friend, and as a child, that thought alone was wonderful. I wanted to be with them so much so, that I asked my mother if I could make an Ant Farm, and without hesitation, she said, “Yes.” I got all the materials together. I found two clear glass bottles, dirt, leaves, potato chips and Now and Later candy – because I was sure they liked the same snacks as I liked. This experiment wasn’t as fun and the ants seemed to move slower. I didn’t know if they needed air or other elements from outside, so I returned the ants to the tree.
Being a child is a very interesting and wonderful process. It is pure ignorance left open to interpretation. It is at this stage I began to process information and images, about culture, about customs, and about beliefs I didn’t fully understand. The 4th of July holiday tradition was one that I celebrated with fervor. I couldn’t wait to get several packs of firecrackers, fountains, sparklers, smoke and snakes. This year we celebrated the 4th for four days due to rain. We were celebrating victory over England’s oppression. Frederick Douglass asked, “What have I, or those I represent, to do with your national independence?” As a child the ideals of those who don’t care wash off your back like shower water and the images and information seem minute. But, when I got old enough to understand, I was totally confused. Because we don’t pop one firecracker for the day our ancestors were freed from slavery.
Excessive images and misguided information can bring anxiety to the mind, but the ant became my comfort. I was able to process and believe in what I saw. And I saw them work as a unified entity. Also, another comfort was the introduction of the Lord Christ. It was the ants and the song, “Jesus Loves Me,” that provided some of the greatest lessons and the most comfort. As a child, I was taught that Jesus loved me, but I was never told of his childhood.
Have you ever wondered about the Lord Jesus’ youth? Those years of his youth are not so clear. As I got older, I thought about it, and wondered, did he throw rocks like the boys in my neighborhood? Did he sit down under shelter in a bad rain and lightening storm? Did he watch ants and play in the field before he took up his station? What we do know, when he was a babe and suckling, Joseph was told to take him to Egypt.
It is written, “…Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him.”
As a child he went to Egypt for shelter, but did he know the danger or was it a wonderful childhood experience like going to Disney World, for at that time Egypt was still one of the greatest nations the world had ever seen.
It was also written, “And when he became twelve years old, they went up to Jerusalem after the custom of the feast. And when they had fulfilled the days, as they returned, the child Jesus tarried behind in Jerusalem, and Joseph and his mother knew not of it.” It goes on to say after three days they found him.
The historical record concerning Jesus’ youth and his young adult years are almost blank, leaving you to wonder. Those years practically in his youth are of great interest, because it is those years he learned about whom, what, where, when, and most importantly about his earthly lot and human cast.
This is when he was taught about the Passover, about carpentry, about Moses, about Joseph, and David. In these years my Jewish friends learn about their history, my Christian friends learn about their European history and my Mexican friends are taught about Cinco de Mayo, with flag in tow. I am taught about slavery, oppression, poverty and the sniper that killed the Blessed, Martin Luther King, Jr. Who is responsible for teaching such knowledge and images?
No matter what, the Ant taught me lessons that no man can take from me. The record will reflect that as the ant, I work feverishly as if I am building Egypt with a purpose.
It is written, “Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise: Which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest.” This is the lesson, I learned from a super insect of the earth, while the humans were silent.
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