This ain’t my first rodeo.

Translation: And I’m not your stereotypical Texan.

Last week I taught a group of 8th graders...I had subbed for several of these kids before, so many of them know I recently moved from Texas to Michigan. All of them question why, and I totally don’t blame them.

Anyhow, the students that didn’t know who I was were bummed after I introduced myself because they heard the sub from Texas is totally awesome. It was then I informed them I am said substitute teacher. To which several students replied, “But...Miss G…you don’t SOUND Texan?!” I also relayed to them I hate country music, I’ve never ridden a horse to school, and I don’t own cowboy boots or a hat.

This was extremely disappointing to the children (the poor, poor children!). However, I think I taught them a valuable lesson on why you shouldn’t read into stereotypes. Plenty of my friends don’t have Southern drawls or that cowboy swagger (but we all have excellent aims).

Being from Texas up here is pretty much equivalent to being a mythical creature. People look at me with wide-eyed wonderment when they hear where I hail from. With the size of their saucer-like eyeballs you’d think I was a damn unicorn. Or Angelina Jolie (I WISH). They wait with baited breath and become deathly still, waiting for the words to roll off my tongue with that twang they hear in all those Western flicks.

Aaaaaaaannnnddd then I utterly disappoint them because I sound like a completely normal person. So I pepper in plenty of “yall’s” in my regular speech, just to make them giddy. Because when you’re in the presence of greatness people, you get giddy, dammit.

But this got me thinking. I posed the “Texas situation” to my Texan pals on facebook. And we formulated an excellent plan:

I’m going to show up for all future assignments in a cowboy hat and spurs. If anyone asks, John Wayne was my grandpa. I’ll embellish stories about how Wells Fargo still runs stage coaches and the Pony Express still transports our mail. I drink moonshine on a regular basis with Chuck Norris. Yes, THE Chuck Norris. At the Alamo. I was a country music superstar as a child, who showed that poor girl Taylor Swift how to play the guitar. Also, I’m a NASCAR fanatic and I’ve been to so many races I’ve lost count (well, there has to be some truth in this, doesn’t there?).

I figured that would totally satisfy Michigander’s Texas lust for awhile, yes?

I will say this- all jokes aside, Texas may not be the most beautiful place on Earth but it is authentic, genuine, and hospitable. People think Texans are a bunch of gun happy, uneducated fools, but I’ve never met or known nicer folks than true Texans. And quite frankly, the economy there is the best in the country, so we must not be that stupid (minus our football team..down with the Cowgirls..post for another day). It may be 110 during the summer but we don’t ever worry about snow storms and power outages, cause winter is a balmy 50 degrees where I’m from. I’ve never missed being somewhere more in my entire life, and I think that’s because Texas is more than just a place, it’s a state of mind.

But I am happy to report next week I get to return to Texas for a wedding. I think this is the happiest and most excited I’ve been in months! So in the great words of Davy Crockett- “You can all go to hell…I’m going to Texas.”