Americanophile

This morning I had to explain my Americanophilia to a class of ten-year-olds, when I was the 'Guest Speaker' at the school that my new friend Brian teaches in.

"There were only four other kids in my whole year at school," I told them, their jaws dropping. "I lived in a forest! Friends were limited; I read a lot of books."

Most of the books I read were American, of course, and so was the music I heard, and all the movies I saw were. Well, except for when my parents let me stay up with them to watch some kind of arty French film about eating and sex. I don't mention that though; all that French sex. I also don't mention that I met their teacher on the internet.

"Some of the characters in those books were my best friends: Sheila the Great; Sally J Freedman; Anastasia Krupnik..." The kids nod, these people are some of their best friends, too, I bet.

"But why would Annie want to be here for our election?" asks Brian. "Why does it matter to people from other countries what choice we make here today?" Brian is possibly the coolest teacher I have ever seen: the kids high-fived him as they jumped off their yellow school bus. A sea of hands shoot up:

"Because she wants to see for herself who's going to be in charge of the United States?"

"Because we're always getting involved with other countries too... like Russia."

"Because it's historical... we're either getting the first black president or the first female vice president."

"Because of the war?"

"Because she likes Barack Obama!"

Chicago kids are talkative and confident; way more sassy than I was when I was ten years old. In the question and answer session they ask me all about where I'm from. "What kind of clothes do they wear in Ireland?" one kid wants to know.

"Oh, y'know, just jeans and sweaters like you guys, not like kilts or anything," I explain.

"Right," she says. "I mean, what kind of labels? Do you guys have Abercrombie & Fitch?"