Virginia students learn state history in fourth grade. A LOT of state history. Which, as a Chicago native, is still a little odd to me, as I don't remember ever learning much about Illinois history. But when in Rome . . .
Anyways, the school year ends with an overnight trip to Williamsburg's historic triangle area (Colonial Williamsburg, Jamestown Settlement, and Yorktown), which is a huge deal when you're 10 years old (who am i kidding? isn't a free vacation always a huge deal, no matter what your age?).
As you probably know by now, I love historic reenactment settlements (to see photos of our past trips to Williamsburg click here and scroll down) so I couldn't wait to chaperone. Unfortunately, the weather was terrible - unseasonably cold and rainy, almost all the kids spent the next few weeks with colds and flu.
But, nevertheless, there was something wonderful about seeing this group of students together. Our zip code is the most diverse in America, thus my children attend a Title 1/Blue Ribbon grade school with kids from all over the globe.
The diversity among the chaperones alone ws crazy impressive - they included parents born in: Afghanistan, Georgia (the country, not the state), Bolivia, Ethiopia, India, and Peru.
Anyways, not to overcheese myself, but I feel truly blessed when I see the community surrounding my children, including a school full of first-generation 10 year olds who now know more about US/east cost history than I do.
Militia training at Yorktown. At the age of 13, one of the chaperones lost his leg fighting Russian soldiers in Afghanistan. And now, at the age of 10, his son fights imaginary British soldiers in southern Virginia.
Hotel room dance party.
Apparently even if temperatures dip below 55 degrees, kids can't resist a heated pool.
Whereas parents CAN resist a heated pool in the rain.
Right before the pajama party fashion show. I love F's "Don't Start Wars" t-shirt, sadly, she she only wears it as a PJ top.
On Friday morning, we woke to rainy skies and even colder weather for our day at Colonial Williamsburg.
After years of teaching kids not to cover their faces in plastic bags, this happened. Oh well, even the thinnest poncho in the world is better than nothing.
It was so cold that I layered all the clothes I had packed for two days (see my PJ shirt under my sweatshirt?) and, luckily, I found T's abandoned winter hat in the backseat of my car, so I had something to keep my head warm.
On the upside, we practically had the place to ourselves.
Self-portrait in the wig store. Apparently George Washington never wore a wig (yes, all that white fluff was real hair) and was quite proud of it, who knew?
At least some mammals were wetter than us.
No comments:
Post a Comment