Friday, February 17, 2017
Table runner for a class to come. The little notes are to identify the fabrics listed on the supply list. Project from Husqvarna Viking.
I am marveling about the snow in Maine. And I am glad that it isn't here.
I thought a lot yesterday about immigrants and the many ways they work in our country. And I thought about my mother, who went to school not knowing the English language well, even though her family were not first-generation or even second-generation immigrants. My grandparents spoke English fluently, but it wasn't their first language at home in their Swiss settlement. She spoke from time to time about how she was shamed (her word) by her teachers. My heart hurts for that intelligent little girl who had to keep going to school when she probably just wanted to stay in bed.
I would from time to time ask my parents to speak something in Swiss, referred to as low German, and I loved a poem that my father would recite. My mother, however, because of her earlier hurt, wouldn't speak the Swiss language.
Roughly translated, my father's poem was
A, B, C, the cat walks in the snow.
The snow melts.
The cat walks in the dirt.
I feel certain that my mother made certain that her brother, seven years younger, spoke English when he went to school. He always enjoyed speaking the Swiss language and welcomed the chance to speak it.
Thinking about all this yesterday, I decided to stay at home and not make purchases or to eat out, in solidarity with our country's immigrants.