Debra McQueen, Cow Handler

On the eve of the Literacy Parade at the elementary school where I work, I was assigned a very important task: meet and greet the master of ceremonies and leader of the procession.

For the uninitiated, the “Literacy Parade” is a schoolwide event celebrating children’s literature.

Each class selects a different book to honor with a banner. Every student and the teacher dress up as a character from that book.

A kindergarten class did Chicka Chicka Boom Boom, and 3rd graders did David Shannon’s A Bad Case of Stripes. In the realm of the classics, Goldilocks and the Three Bears was represented. The range of literature and amount of creativity that go into this parade are always marvelous, and this year was no different.

It’s actually two parades: one for the lower grades put on by the 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders, and then the K, 1st, and 2nd graders do the parading. We march through the cafeteria for assembled parents and then down the halls, where students sit along the walls outside their classrooms in a state of frenzy.

The master of ceremonies and leader of the parade is the Chick-Fil-A cow.

You might wonder what the Chick-Fil-A cow has to do with literacy.

I certainly wondered when I was asked by Beth, the Literacy Parade’s coordinator, to be the Cow Handler on the day of the parade. Of course I said yes - how hard could it be? Greet the guy in the cow costume upon arrival and walk him up to the cafeteria where the parade begins?

Beth was very serious, I assumed because our relationship with business partners like Chick-Fil-A is financially important. “Stay with the cow at all times,” she said. “You must stay with the cow and keep the kids from, you know, bothering the cow.”

I chuckled, rolling my eyes a little. “Okay, Beth,” I said. “I’ll protect the cow.”

At the appointed hour I picked up the cow, whose name I learned is Charles, and walked him to the cafeteria. The first thing I learned was that the cow can’t really see. I mean, he has some sense of directionality through his meager eye slits, and I think he can make out shadows. But it’s a little like walking a visually impaired Shrek through the narrow, pre-ADA compliant walls of our ancient school.

And that’s before the kids even see him.

Escorting Miley Cyrus would’ve been easier. At least Miley Cyrus has normal vision and can move independently.

Walking down the halls, trying to smile and parade wave, I lost count of the times I had to place my body between the cow and a grabbing, feverish 7-year-old intent on a massive hug out of enthusiasm for waffle fries. “I LOVE YOU!” these temporarily insane children screamed. “Eat more chikin! EAT MORE CHIKIN!”

Things went from bad to worse on the Pre-K wing. Little 4-year-olds in little literary costumes turn out to be terrified of giant puffy black and white things. “Get that cow out of here!” yelled the Pre-K teacher, sheltering a girl whose screams of terror drowned out the parade music piped over the PA system.

On the third grade hall I finally lost my cool exterior. “Stop touching the cow!” I bellowed at one young cowboy. We were in a stampede, surrounded by fans of the chicken tender, one of whom couldn’t stop pinching and slapping the cow’s feet and legs. “This cow is a person, don’t you understand? Would you like it if someone did that to you?” The child blinked in confusion.

Finally, after one last protracted stroll through the cafeteria, the horrible parade came to an end. “You can walk him back up to the office through the parking lot,” Beth suggested.

Out of breath and grateful for the peace found outdoors, I led Charles the cow along the bumpy, broken asphalt. We were home free - almost to the front door - when the Pre-K kids rounded the corner on their shortcut back to class. “Hurry!” I shouted. “Run!” Charles shuffled his big fat cow feet and followed me. But as the door swung closed behind us, I heard the 4-year-olds’ screams of terror resume.