A group of psychologists walk into a research lab. Their mission; a case study on child trauma and the will to thrive. The subjects; two boys, ten years of age. The control environment; two large rooms; white; windowless; florescent lighting, empty, except for a twelve foot high, pile of horse manure.
Placed alone in each of the two rooms, the boys have been left to fend for themselves for an hour before the research team, clip boards in hand, begin to document their findings.
When they enter the first room the team finds Boy #1 seated, curled up at the base of the pile of manure—his face buried in his crossed arms—crying. With a clicking of their pens, ready to document the encounter, they enquired as to why the boy was so upset, to which the he replied, “Are you kidding me?! You locked me in this room with a stinky pile of horse poo. Its gross in here. I hate you!”
After scribbling down their findings, the team thanked the boy for his participation, informed him his part of the experiment was complete and he was to follow an “nice aid” who would get him washed up, provided with a clean set of clothes, and reunited with his parents.
The research team then moved on to the second room. Opening the door they were greeted by a tornado of manure. Shielding their faces, they searched the room for Boy #2, eventually discovering him up at the top of the pile. He was covered from head to toe in the smelly matter, digging frantically, with the enthusiasm of a dog in search of a prized bone.
When the researchers enquired as to why he was digging so intensely, the boy replied, “Are you kidding me?! With all this horse shit, there’s gotta be a pony in here somewhere.
