By Jim Nichols

Many of us (including me) have wonderings circulating through our brain that have been there from childhood into adulthood. One question for me is why humans tend to create boundaries that have no meaning or rationale at all. What purpose does that boundary perform or satisfy? Often, it involves a bit of unnecessary geography.

During football season one fall, I was listening to an Atlanta radio station just after the conclusion of a game that the University of Georgia (“Bulldogs”) had just won. It was a call-in program in which listeners phoned a number and made comments on the air about the just-finished game.

One caller (I am not making this up) said only five words. He did not give his name or any type of greeting, he merely said loudly and slowly “LET THE BIG DOG EAT.” Then he hung up. 

It made me wonder what was occurring in his brain. Did he believe the opposing players were bad in some way? I understand that a “fan” is just a short-hand version of “fanatic,” but it amazes me how quickly our brains and voices move from light-hearted to serious stupidity. He had obviously built a boundary to protect the bulldog football team. Weird.

Football aside, I believe my interest in this human tendency to make boundaries began when I was a boy and concerns about where I was born. It was a subtle but important geographic blessing to me.

Throughout my life people have randomly asked me, “Where are you from?” When I hesitate, they re-state the question, “Where were you born and where did you grow up?” When I answer, “Kansas City,” they will invariable ask, “Kansas City, Missouri or Kansas City, Kansas?” My response is that as far as I am concerned, it is all the same city. Since most people have not grown up in such a city situation as this, I understand this might be confusing. It is not unique, however; the folks in Texarkana, Texas and Texarkana, Arkansas as well as other examples would understand. It is not important, but that is the whole point of my thoughts here—which state you grow up in does not make much difference. It is we humans who construct theoretical boundaries. 

To be more specific about my own situation, my boyhood understanding of the difference between Missouri and Kansas was which side of the street you were on. That is, there is an actual street named “State Line Road.” It is just a regular road; cars drive up and down on both sides, now in Kansas, now in Missouri. Our family crossed that street hundreds of times in my life. I was born in a hospital in Missouri and started school there. In third grade our family moved to the Kansas side, and I finished public school there. Although we lived in Kansas, both grandparent sets lived on the Missouri side still and we would drive just a few miles from our Kansas home to see them. It never occurred to me that the air was different across State Line Road because it was not. It rained and snowed on both sides. Other than the fact that each has a few state laws that differ, one cannot tell one from another. There may be small regional customs that differ, but those are just part of the fascinating variety of life.

I grew up in the Midwest. I clearly remember a smart alec trying to impress me by saying, “I can tell from your accent that you are from southern Indiana.” What was he talking about? I had never been to Indiana and did not like this fellow very much anyway.

Why do we humans create boundaries that have no true meaning in our lives? Our skins are different color, we speak with different accents, we root for different teams—what is the profit of such thinking?

We are much, much more alike than different. We each have a concept of a human family (good or bad). We each understand physical and emotional pain and have coping skills. We each know joy and sadness. As a follower of God, I suggest that we search for commonalities rather than boundaries.

It really does snow on both sides of State Line Road.

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospital chaplain