Douglas Schorr

Eve’s school had one goal: produce graduates so competent that others considered it a privilege to have them in their group.

Eve (junior) taught survival material: physics, chemistry, engineering, maths, home economics (including what and what not to eat), situational geography and nature study. Everything focused on the immediate environment—what things were, when they happened, why they mattered, and how they worked. In our case, learner-humans adding dance, mime, expressive dramatics and protest gesturing was the preserve of adults around the camp fire – all very recent. Graduates didn’t get certificates—they got life.

With infant mortality rates devastatingly high, the school’s backyard was a proving ground where death happened at your feet. There was no graduation ball: under elder Eves’ supervision, girls stayed in and proved their womanhood with the male selected, while boys were sent out to Adam’s finishing school for young men. They didn’t mess about with initiation ceremonies then. The first day out at big school was enough.

In and out are magic words. Eve wasn’t headmistress because she was more academic or better at multitasking—she was always in. And as you know from the “In the Beginning” stories, she had experience: over 2 billion years ago, the Trinity (Father Complicity, Mother Evolution and Mother Nature) charged Original Eve—the bringer of life to earth—with the responsibility of survival. Her “how to survive in a place that is perpetually in turmoil” guide was the 4 Ps manual. It dictated, “You will produce and parent babies, and you will protect and provide for them.” It was a workload so onerous the sign on her door read “IN” even when she was out. What a relief when Adam became Eve’s provider and protector. Now he was always out except when he was in delivering.

But it was no relief. Him being out and her in marked the dawn of professionalism. Eve could focus on the job that ensured we all are here today—producing and parenting. Only the Eves of the world can do the breeding-producing bit. Producing is a big, but quick turnaround job. Those Eves who survived what was the most dangerous job about, devoted themselves to parenting. Sure, the Adams could parent in a rough sort of way but they were out and if they weren’t, there’d soon be no one in to care for. The Trinity (or if you wish, your God) had created an inseparable pair.

Parenting needs time, patience, and directed love because teaching life involves having eyes in the back of your head as you get tough and remain tough while inside craving a hug. Headmistress Eve ran a school in the dirt. There were no gates; the classrooms often teemed with things that could sting her students to death, eat them up or with one bite leave them paralysed and if that happened she’d have to finish the job. Life is not fair. Prepare your children well. Did I mention headmistresses had to be tough?

To be the “best ever,” she had to be a disciplinarian mentor with the highest of selfish motives—to retire a proud, respected, safe and well-fed grandmother. She pounded the basics of their species’ culture—the 4 Ps—into her students. Advanced studies emphasised original economics: each individual’s commitment to excellence by performing better today than yesterday. This strengthened the entire group—a mother’s, a teacher’s legacy. Eve taught a balance of cooperation and competition through specialized expertise; she initiated building ever-stronger relationships that lifted everyone. Each person’s increased productivity raised the hierarchy’s capabilities, making the whole greater than the sum of its parts. And because boys and girls spent all their baby, child, and adolescent years together, they knew all about each other’s similarities and differences. Nothing was hidden. Five-year-old survivors became instructors-under-Mum by default. Gender? Yes, well—P1 and 2 and P3 and 4.

Time was precious—instruction was intense, 24/7. Girls were ready for breeding at 10 or 11 and boys went to Adam’s Finishing College as soon as they were strong enough. If Eve saw her boys again, she’d be delighted. But she knew that being out with Adam was front line.

Adam wasn’t out of the picture. When he came in, he was Eve’s vital informant of all the latest developments… observations of how lightning worked and rivers filled by upstream storms arrived as torrents, of lions’ and snakes’ habits, how to steal from a hyena, when and where to find eggs and which water to avoid. Adam’s reports from out there became valuable addendums to the 4 Ps manual.

To appreciate how amazing Eve’s schools were, look around. Do you see even one imperfect bird, worm, crocodile or butterfly? True, our ancestors couldn’t pass kindergarten today, but such is the working of the Trinity (or your God if you like) and our never-stopping-to-improve ancestors who dug the foundations and laid the first stones of culture. They ingrained excellence in students over thousands of generations. With each “pass it on” instruction came a slight but significant update. A baby – whether human, kid, calf, pup, chick, grub or wormlet—born today arrives having completed the most valuable PhD ever devised. Its instincts far removed from those of Eve millions of years earlier.

As many universities today proclaim, we grow greater through the praise of those who follow. Thanks to all the Eves.