Archive for the ‘Twenty Minutes’ tag
WELCOME TO PROVIDENCE
Tu cuchara tien un hoyo en el asidero y la mia no Straightheads psp .
These were the first words I uttered to an unsuspecting and bilingually challenged pre-schooler. Welcome to Butler pre-school in Attleboro, Massachusetts circa 1976.
As an adult I may have been very self-conscious of the fact that I did not speak a lick of English, but as a kid it didn’t even phase me or the other kids. In many ways this is the beautiful magic and wonder of being a kid. No judgment, just kindness.
Each time I see a yellow, smiley face it elicits the experience of my last day of the first grade. The term was not over it was just over for me.
Apparently, my mother had been picked-up in an immigration raid at the factory where she worked that morning. Ealry morning I was a first grader at Bliss elementary by mid-day I was an illegal alien facing deportation. We packed what we could carry and fled in the middle of the night, never to return to Attleboro. Fugitives.
Twenty minutes later we arrived in Providence, Rhode Island. Yep, we fled just twenty minutes north. I guess this was far enough because here is where I spent my formative years.
