April Fool: Memories of 'A' level psychology and my impromptu introduction to communism

All Fools day. The First of April. My birthday. Being born on such a day is significant: nobody forgets it. On an annual basis, upon the said day, rather than ‘Happy Birthday!’ I was met with a jovial chorus of ‘April Fool!’ from family members and friends. At school, it was different: ‘April Fool’ was a weapon of ridicule, rudely seized upon by malicious children through which to inflict pain and suffering upon me. So, the label sticks and before you know it you have turned into a self-fulfilling prophesy of foolishness: you play the fool, nobody takes you seriously, you don’t even take yourself seriously.  What hope is there knowing from the outset that one is destined for foolishness? On the brighter side, being an April Fool means that you can let yourself off the hook when the occasion arises; I glean some comfort in knowing that I’m not entirely to blame for my own mistakes: ‘I can’t help it, it’s in the stars.’
          
​          Admittedly, when looking back at some of the things I have said and done, I do cringe and think, ‘What an idiot!’ On these occasions ‘April Fool’ seems wholly appropriate as a pre-text. Case in point is one episode during A-level psychology. The teacher said she thought it would be a good idea if we all wore (what I heard as) mouse suits. ‘Well, yes,’ I said, ‘it could be interesting and fun. Although perhaps we would get a bit hot, and the long tails might be a health and safety issue.’ She gave me a strange look of incomprehension. ‘Mao suits!’ she said. She slowly spelt it out, ‘M…A...O... Do you not know what a Mao suit is?’ Well, quite frankly I did not. Let’s get this straight from the start, nobody told me anything. ‘Oh,’ I giggled nervously, ‘I thought you said mouse suits. Psychologists and mice, you know…long tradition and all that.’ The rest of the class found all this quite amusing. The teacher did not. She gave me a look of disdain, muttered something about me being a ‘silly girl’ and turned away. My heart sank. Henceforth, she would look upon me as a moron, and they would probably have a good laugh about it in the staff room. She didn’t bother explaining to me what a Mao suit is, or why she thought it would be a good idea if we all wore one. But I was intrigued, and after the lesson I made a point of finding out for myself. This was probably my impromptu introduction to communist ideology. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now I’ve had time to reflect on the significance of what she was talking about I would probably agree: ‘Yes, it would be a good idea if we all wore Mao suits!’