Happy Friday, all. Today, another rehash from a formerly subscribers-only post. Please don’t stick your tongue out at me for it. Unless, of course, you can’t help it. ~JRC
Confessions of an adult tongue-sticker-outer
Kids do it, but why so few grownups?
First published September 27th, 2021, as a paid subscribers story.
We've all seen it - a young child with her tongue out as she draws, writes, or otherwise concentrates. It's so common we almost don't even notice. But why so many kids and so few adults? Well, as a rare adult-tongue-sticker-outer, I wanted to find out. I also wanted to learn why it was embarrassing me.
It's thought our ancestors once communicated mainly using hand and body gestures, not voice. But as complex language evolved in humans, our hands became free to do all kinds of other things. Our brains then went into serious overdrive. Think about it - a massive neural reworking took place to make this switch possible. The result: we can now cuss out bad drivers and shake our fists at them simultaneously.
But there is a side effect to all this complex communication: we are mentally overloaded. Thinking is a big deal, and for kids, many of these processes are still developing. So when a child engages in engrossing tasks like drawing, math, or sports - the tongue comes out to quiet it. That's right; kids stick out their tongues to shut them up - so they can better concentrate.
Even as an adult, you might still make a lot of facial gestures while thinking or doing. Researchers believe these are an artifact of the mental rewiring needed for speech. The tongue, now serving in communication, gets over-activated whenever we think at all. It makes sense: when we think, we often speak, so the tongue should be doing something, right? So our brains think, anyway. But sticking it someplace awkward, like out, wedges the tongue into submission. And it lets us direct brainpower where it's needed most.
But why do so few adults exhibit this tongue-out behavior? And why am I embarrassed about it? Researchers again have a theory - peer pressure. Kids with tongues out look cute. Adults? Well, we look somewhat goofy, at least so says society. It seems that most kids train themselves to leave tongue work behind to avoid being picked on.
Except for people like me, that is.
Teenage me often did it while making and at school, while in class, taking tests, and generally thinking at all. I am easily distracted, so I imagine I kept it up more than most to cut down on the mental noise. But the troubled waters of adolescence mean others taking notice. And I remember it was then that sticking my tongue out became an even bigger issue.
Some kids teased me. And others even chastised me for the behavior that made me "look like a little kid." One harsh criticism was that I'd bite it off if I kept it out. Bowing to this immense force, I shifted from tongue-out to tongue deeply planted in my cheek. Which, ironically, increased the odds of me biting it off.
I consciously decided to do this. It felt like I was hiding it better, somehow. But a bulging cheek is almost more conspicuous than a tongue out. At least with the latter, people can understand what is going on. But hidden inside, it looks like a big unknown wad of something in there. Is that gum? Saving lunch for later? That's not chewing tobacco, is it?!
None of this stopped me, of course. It's involuntary. So my tongue-out-but-now-in (but still technically out) persists. And I mostly have forgotten about it. Occasionally, though, it sticks out to others.
Not too long ago, a colleague commented on the behavior. I could hear the judgment in her voice when she said, "it looks strange when you do that." "I am strange," I replied, trying to laugh it off.
Peers - we never outgrow them; they only get older.
Recently, I caught myself editing a perfectly good video sequence for my YouTube channel. The issue, of course, was my tongue in my cheek. I was sitting almost completely still in the scene while working intricately with my hands (the pic for this essay is a screenshot from that video). And there it was - a bulging, unexplainable lump in my right cheek. I didn't even give it much thought; I edited it out like I would a fumbled line or similar blooper. My embarrassment, it would seem, runs that deep.
But after researching it for this essay, I need to rethink my shame.
So what if I'm a grownup tongue-sticker-outer? I'm also a maker, writer, scientist, and all-around deep thinker. For all these, I am proud. And my son does it as well, and I never want him to feel embarrassed about this or anything else. Perhaps you do it too? Your company is welcome.
I'm sure more people out there stick out their tongues too. So don't feel alone, and don't be embarrassed. Heck, there's probably even a celebrity who does it.* Maybe a sports star. Someone really talented and famous and famous and for sticking his tongue out. He could be our spokesperson. And lead our tongue-sticker-outer support group! Maybe we could convince him to coin a catchy slogan to make us all feel better about who we are. Maybe this:
Just do it.
Until next time.
JRC