That term doesn't mean what you might think. If you’re imagining middle-school aged students making
fun of each other, their teachers, or their curricula—you’re wrong!
When a
young teenage living in Greater Minneapolis says to her mother, “I’m going mocking
with friends,” the mother is probably going to smile. She might ask, “Where,”
but she doesn’t have to know more.
Mock is short for
hammock, and probably should be spelled ‘mock. Take a look at friends of one of
my granddaughters in a park near the home of my son and his family. Doesn’t
this look fun? Mentally, just contemplating this scene, I’m settling in
for breeze as I snuggle down
comfortably—breeze, as in ‘shooting the . . .’ and what happens when gently rocking
between trees.
I understand that the
thrill of mocking fades once the mocker is obtains a driver’s license. But when
you’re fourteen, that’s a long way off and mocking is NOW.
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