Tag Archiv: War of 1812

On the way to school

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Girl #1 is rambling about the King of England. Something or other she learned at school from Mrs. V. who, it is repeated with reverence, absolutely loves history.

Girl #2:  I’m getting the idea that Mrs. V. really knows a lot. Like even more than mom

Girl #1 concerned: I don’t know. I think might both know a lot but they know a lot about different things

Girl #2: Yeah, like about God and stuff

Girl #1: No, everybody knows about God. It’s like they both know a lot about some things. Like Mrs. V. knows a lot about history and social studies, and . . .

Girl #2: So maybe they know the same as each other but more than Miss Sipple.

Girl #1 (a little taken aback): Oh no, she says with emphasis, Miss Sipple knows a  lot. She knows all kinds of things. But she teaches very small children. Sooooo, she has to take everything she knows and take down to really tiny little details so the little kids can get it. See what I mean.

Girl #2 Yeah, so she’s really smart but she has to make it so they can understand it

Girl #1 Exactly

 

I tune out while the conversation turns back to the King in England, and all that has been learned thus far from the beloved and admired Mrs. V. Somewhere I tune in again . . .

Girl #1  So anyway, the King and England wanted to fight New York.

Girl #2 Is that like called World War I or something?

Girl #1 Actually, it might have just been New York fighting New York

Boy #2 from the far back:  It’s called the War of 1812

Girl #1  Actually, I’m pretty sure it was New York trying to keep New York, maybe from England.

Boy #3 Then that’s the United States becoming a country. It’s called the Civil War.

Girl #1 Anyway, the point is that there were people in New York who wanted to be loyal to the King and that made other people really mad. They wanted to like lock them up in jail and be mean to them and stuff, but they weren’t bad people. They were good people and they loved the King.

 

Well, Dorothy, I say to myself. You aren’t in Kansas anymore. The traitors of your childhood are the heroes of your children’s. Your book loving son who spews facts about the quiet needed for beer brewing and all manner of odd things learned from his books doesn’t differentiate accurately between American wars, revolutionary, civil, or otherwise.

But that’s ok. My nine year old says that even though Mrs. V. knows some things I don’t, there are some things I know that she doesn’t. This bodes well for both of us.