Since moving back to Texas, there have been several moments when it is confirmed that I am not in California any more:
1. Students named Austin, Travis, Boone, and any other Texan historical figure.
2. The jingle/jangle of homecoming mums down a high school hallway.
3. A parent punishing a student for their 3rd tardy by not letting the young man show his goat at the State Fair.
4. The Chicken Express sides menu: fried, fried, and more fried.
5. A memo/reminder from school administration not to schedule things on Wednesday nights (church night).
6. Doughnuts and kolaches at every morning meeting.
7. In one conversation with a student, I was "yes ma'am"-ed 7 times.
Sometimes, these Texas moments bring a sense of peace...the familiar can be so soothing. And other times, they make me feel like an outsider looking in. I struggle integrating the experiences I have had living outside this community into my daily life here. Discussions with Dad about recycling or with Mom about my experiences with teaching elsewhere are not always easy, but I feel that, while being considerate of other people's experiences, I cannot hold back so much of myself that people never know the whole of who I am.
Moving on: Being a little "home-sick", Michael, Owen, and I went to Carrollton's ArmeniaFest last night. No, I did not know that there was an Armenian community in the DFW area, and I was there less than 5 minutes before I met the neice of one of my teacher friends (Aida) from Glendale. The food, the music, the language, the dancing, the family atmosphere...I never realized that I would miss so much about the Armenian community. It was a great night.
Next stop: State Fair tomorrow. Speaking of fried food....