East Coast/Midwest Coast

When I have down time I will write little memories in my notes app. I found a few and am adding to my blog. Many of these were done while at the hairdresser waiting for the color to do its thing. 1st in the series”Notes from the hair chair”

When I was 6 I moved to IL. I had only lived in MA and didn’t really understand what living in a different state meant. People told me that I would have to lose my accent. “My accident?” was my response. I talked the way everyone talked. I was about to understand culture shock.
My cousins and aunts/uncles came to the airport to send us off. I was dressed in a little pea coat for my first plane ride. I don’t remember much about the plane ride and getting to Rockford (about 90 minutes outside of Chicago). We stayed in a hotel for about a week while we waited to pass papers on our house. My parents wanted us to start school and my dad had to work (the reason for the move).
On our first day of school; my brother, sister and I were all at the local elementary school, we all walked in the bitter Midwest cold trying to find the entrance. Once inside my mom signed us up and we walked with the principal to our respective classrooms. My mom mentioned that we would have to buy lunch as we are at a hotel. We were told that there was no lunch to buy but today they could give us the “Satellite lunch” that was reserved for lower income students.
I was brought to Mrs. Kearney’s First grade class where all eyes were on me as I was introduced. I sat next to Jennifer Burkhardt who was my guide. At lunch I ate a gross ham sandwich with a dry block of cheese. I had winter boots on so at gym the teacher told me that I needed “tennis shoes”. I didn’t think that they made tennis shoes for my little feet and was confused as to why they specified the sport shoes I needed since I clearly wasn’t playing tennis in January. My family quickly learned that tennis shoes were the same as “sneakers” in Boston speak.
I was a shy kids but I started to make friends and I figured out what my family was referring to when they talked about my accent. I remember telling a story and said “tiah” when referring to a tire and my neighbors laughed. In the section grade we were doing vocabulary and the teacher asked who knew the word “plaza”? I raised my hand and said “plah za”; I straight up knew this because the mall near me in MA was the plaza. The teacher, who was evil btw, corrected me and said “plaa za”.
My family had wonderful memories in Illinois and made some lifelong friends. The Midwest is friendlier; many of our neighbors were transplants like us. We connected over holidays as being with family was too hard to do. They became our family. They helped when we were in an accident. Oh how they helped when my dad suddenly died.
I’m glad that I got to experience living in Illinois and I always smile when I hear the Midwestern accent. I feel so worldly knowing that I have been to the Quad cities. Yet there is a part of me that wishes I grew up in the same area; went to school with the same kids and lived in the same house.