How a Peanut Butter, Mayo and Pickle Sandwich Prepared Me for My Career

I have learned a lot of things over the span of my educational experience. I even learned how to do my taxes in my econ class in high school. But one of the few things that really has stuck with me decades later was a lesson my dad taught during his Junior English class. 

As many of you know, my father, Keith Spaulding, passed away in October of 2020. The outpour of memories and stories that celebrated his 35 years of teaching came pouring in. He was a teacher of English, Speech, Communication and Vocal Music. His English class was notoriously difficult to get a good grade in. You really did have to put in the work to do well. On the other side though, once you graduated and had to do college-level writing, you started to appreciate the hard-taught lessons Dad inflicted. He was often hated while one was in high school, then praised and fondly remembered when college life would strike. 

I could go on for pages and pages and post after post about how influential, funny, and supportive my dad was, but that is not the point of this post, now is it? 

One of Dad's lessons in his Junior English class was the Peanut Butter, Mayo and Pickle Sandwich assignment. Now, cut me some slack, it has been over 15 years since I was in high school. I had to message my sister to make sure that he included pickles or not, so I have no idea if this was the actual title of the assignment. The lesson remains the same though. 

The idea of the assignment is to write instructions to a robot as to how to make a peanut butter, mayo, and pickle sandwich. Meaning, the robot would take your instructions, and take them very literally, and make this sandwich. After you submitted your paper, Dad would take some of the best and worst ones and act like the robot. Taking instructions VERY literally. 

Like if you would say: 

"Take the peanut butter and put it on the bread"=Robot putting the entire, unopened jar of peanut butter on the bread

"Put the bread in the toaster"=putting the bread in the toaster, but not pressing down the button to toast.

"Put the knife in to the opened jar of mayo, then put the mayo on the toast"=Sticking the knife straight into the mayo, lifting the entire jar, and smacking the jar on the toast

You get the idea. 

And if you have to ask, if the word "troll" was a thing in the 90s and early 00s, my dad would be one, for sure. He was downright gleeful at the shouts of "THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT" and "Oh come ON, you know what I was saying!!!" and overall just being way over the top with his far too literal interpretations of these instructions. If I recall, things got rather messy. 

I think in my grade, there was one individual who was descriptive enough that even my dad was impressed. He said it was the closest he had ever come to having perfect instructions. SPOILER ALERT: it was not me. I want to say that individual is now a lawyer? 

I know Dad designed the exercise to be about descriptiveness in writing. However, whenever I am learning computer coding design, or working on gamification elements in our educational offerings such as a "choose your own adventure" design, I have to think about every possible outcome and what my code is trying to tell the system to do. Because there is no "but that's not what I * meant *" in coding. 

Gamification in adult education has become a professional passion of mine for several reasons. One, it blends a few of my professional passions in with my personal ones. Two, if done correctly, it can be extremely effective. 

Take the sandwich exercise. While not necessarily a "game" in and of itself, the elements that make games entertaining are there. People still, to this day, remember this exercise, and if they are like me, harken back to it while engaging in different scenarios that would require complete and utter detailed instructions. Isn't that what education should be all about? Learning, but doing so in a manner that you remember the lesson 15+ years later. 

So who knew that a peanut butter, mayo and pickle sandwich is a driving reason behind the innovative ideas I try to bring to the table as a continuing medical education specialist? I want to bring experiences that learners will remember and retain for years.