Friday, May 27, 2011

J is for Jersey Girl

From the time I was 4 until I was 13 my family lived in New Jersey. Personally, I was very happy there, and I had a lot of pride in my state. In middle school I joined a history club called the Jerseymen, and we even went to a convention in Atlantic City where I was elected Lieutenant Governor for Burlington County. A few months later, my family moved to Saudi Arabia, and I had to resign my office.

In Saudi, my brother and sister and I went to an international school with kids from all over the world. There were kids from all over the United States, too, and it was there that I met my first Texan. We were actually pretty good friends, best friends, really, so you can imagine my surprise the first time we ever talked about how great our homes in the States were. "New Jersey?" she sniffed. "What could possibly be good about New Jersey?" And then she laughed before she continued. "Now, Texas..." and blah, blah, blah, she was off on how much bigger and better everything was in Texas.


"New Jersey is just as good as Texas!" I insisted, "If not better!"

"Ha!" she answered. "Let's see. We have Houston." She looked at me like, top that.

"Well, we have... um, we have... well Philadelphia and New York are close by."

"They don't count. We have the Alamo."

"We have Atlantic City?"

""OK," she shrugged. "We have blue bonnets."

"We have blueberries. New Jersey is the Garden State."

"Who cares? We have Dallas."

"We have the Pine Barrens," I said, "AND the Jersey Devil!" It was my turn to look triumphant.

"What are those?" she said. "Wait, it doesn't even matter, because nobody outside of New Jersey even cares." She laughed at her own joke and then looked at me, her best friend. Her expression became kinder. "Oh cheer up!" she said and threw her arm around my shoulders. "Nobody here even cares if you're from New Jersey!"

But I cared.

Life Lesson: Pride doesn't have to come at the expense of someone else.

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