Isaac started school yesterday and younger brother Ben followed suit today. Isaac’s report of the first day…
“I thoroughly enjoyed it.”
Good news. I must confess he looked good in uniform and seemed to have grown into it during the day. He was standing a bit taller and speaking with a bit more confidence.
He was pleased with the reception he got from the kids at school and found to his surprise that everyone was very interested to hear him talk and to have him share the news from America. I’d told him ahead of time that he would be an object of fascination, at least for a little while and that his accent and his former residence would be assets for making friends quickly.
“You were right Dad, all the kids wanted to know about America and were really friendly, especially the girls.”
“Hmmm, I thought they might be. I mean, after all you are a good looking guy.”
To confirm his story, this morning as we waited inside the school for the class bell a fetching young brunette approached him with an inviting welcome.
I was dying to know what he’d say, but couldn’t hear the conversation, darn it!
Benjamin looked on nervously no doubt wondering how he would handle the inevitable encounters that lay ahead.
As we stood waiting for Ben’s teacher to come and help him start the day we were watching a young man across the hall with a three inch Mohawk that looked distinctly Paleozoic.
He looked tough, but a moment later he was standing next to us looking rather more innocent than he had from across the hall.
“Hi, are you from Texas?”
Texas, not America, but Texas, he said, confirming again in my mind that Texas holds a special place in the Scots imagination. Like Florida and California, Texas is named intentionally. You may be American, but if you’re Texan, you say so. I haven’t yet penetrated the mythology surrounding Texas. Unlike Florida and California, Texas is not a major Scots tourist destination; perhaps that is why it is so interesting: no one really knows what it is like.
Compared to our new life in bonnie Scotland, our life in Texas and our accents seem rather ordinary, pedestrian even. Not so to the kids at school; they love it.
Logan (the Mohawk guy) and his friend Cass (who was mute due to a throat ailment) were both quite friendly and encouraging, ensuring us that the teacher was on her way. Moments later she was there and quite happily guided Ben through the basics, assuring him that Logan, a fourth year student, would be his guide for the day.
Benjamin still looked nervous, but then Isaac had looked the same 24 hours earlier.
I hope he thoroughly enjoys himself.