It is currently 12pm on an uncommonly sunny Thursday here in Glasgow. It took a lot, but I've made it and have been struggling to normalize some for of existence for about a week. I apologize for my tardiness with this post, but I'm still working on scheduling everything I have to do. I've basically been moving in, teaching myself how to cook, and frantically emailing the administration of the University of Glasgow and Siena to try to straighten out how my life will function for the next four months.
But Scotland though. Oh, my goodness Glasgow, Scotland is easily the most beautiful city I have ever been in. It is much less crowded than New York City, much more friendly than Albany, and older than anything I have ever seen. To place this in some perspective, the University of Glasgow (pictured below) was founded in 1451. Christopher Columbus sailed across the ocean blue in 1492. Glasgow was in its mid twenties by the time America was born in the minds of Europe. Speeding through history a few hundred years, American Scholar was not presented until August 31, 1837. Therefore, true "Americanness" is only about 200 years old. Glasgow University stood through all of that - and has remained fundamentally unchanged.
The question of Americanness was very much so on my mind here, as I can't help but look for subtle signs to see if, in fact, we are different. Every time I jog to class, my eyes, when not focusing on the brown stone buildings that house everything from Student Accommodations to cafes and pubs of all kinds, focus back towards the people. On a typical walk, I pass hundreds of people, joggers through the green Kelvin Park, fellow students who turtle under jackets and under the weight of book-laden packs and worry-laden minds. In classes I have spoken to people from Sweden and Ireland. The Irish girl, let's call her Sam, spoke with me about the differences between The United States and Scotland. She was intrigued with New York City.
"How's New York compared to Glasgow? My dad went last year, and he really liked it. He said it was quite modern." She had a light Irish accent that I cannot even begin to replicate in type.
"Well, yes it is quite modern. I mean, its all so new. Everything in New York feels like its made of steel or glass - all modern and tall and imposing. It's grided too, it wasn't born and allowed to grow, but it was designed all to maximize land."
Glasgow grew though. There are streets that lead to nowhere and randomly swerve and join up with other streets that appear to be in a grid, but aren't quite. These lines follow something more of a natural pattern of growth rather than a forced pattern.
We spoke, too, briefly about the cultures surrounding our homes. Glasgow is very connected to Northern Ireland and the Scottish heritage of the Picts and the Celts both pre-Roman civilizations. The people were eventually Christianized, Westernized, and they became the modern day Scots and Irish. Sam couldn't necessarily trace her lineage back to her Celtic roots, but she was aware of the presence in the city. There's even an upcoming cultural festival called Celtic Connections celebrating the ties back to the Celtic Roots.
"That just fascinates me," I said to her. "We just don't have that back home."
I can say for myself, that I'm French, Irish, Polish, Scandinavian, and a handful of other nationalities. But I have no real tie to any of those countries other than the vague notion that my Great-Great Grandparents came over to American from those places. For all intents and purposes, I am American - but that raises another more complicated question of what actually is an American.
When I met Sam, she was able to confidently say "I am Irish" with a subtle knowledge of what it means to be an Irish Woman. I can say "I am American" with the confidence that it is true, but with no real idea of what that sentence actually means. Is it enough that I grew up in the Suburbs of Connecticut? Did I have to ride my bike down dirt roads and fall and scrape knees on American soil so that I shed a bit of me onto the ground, and rubbed some American dirt on the cut to heal it - is that American? Or is it enough that I have a picture from a government I don't really trust and a number in a complicated system that I know nothing about that makes me American? Does my Americanness hold up to scrutiny if I suddenly move to Midwestern United States? I have no idea.
But Scotland though. Oh, my goodness Glasgow, Scotland is easily the most beautiful city I have ever been in. It is much less crowded than New York City, much more friendly than Albany, and older than anything I have ever seen. To place this in some perspective, the University of Glasgow (pictured below) was founded in 1451. Christopher Columbus sailed across the ocean blue in 1492. Glasgow was in its mid twenties by the time America was born in the minds of Europe. Speeding through history a few hundred years, American Scholar was not presented until August 31, 1837. Therefore, true "Americanness" is only about 200 years old. Glasgow University stood through all of that - and has remained fundamentally unchanged.
The question of Americanness was very much so on my mind here, as I can't help but look for subtle signs to see if, in fact, we are different. Every time I jog to class, my eyes, when not focusing on the brown stone buildings that house everything from Student Accommodations to cafes and pubs of all kinds, focus back towards the people. On a typical walk, I pass hundreds of people, joggers through the green Kelvin Park, fellow students who turtle under jackets and under the weight of book-laden packs and worry-laden minds. In classes I have spoken to people from Sweden and Ireland. The Irish girl, let's call her Sam, spoke with me about the differences between The United States and Scotland. She was intrigued with New York City.
"How's New York compared to Glasgow? My dad went last year, and he really liked it. He said it was quite modern." She had a light Irish accent that I cannot even begin to replicate in type.
"Well, yes it is quite modern. I mean, its all so new. Everything in New York feels like its made of steel or glass - all modern and tall and imposing. It's grided too, it wasn't born and allowed to grow, but it was designed all to maximize land."
Glasgow grew though. There are streets that lead to nowhere and randomly swerve and join up with other streets that appear to be in a grid, but aren't quite. These lines follow something more of a natural pattern of growth rather than a forced pattern.
We spoke, too, briefly about the cultures surrounding our homes. Glasgow is very connected to Northern Ireland and the Scottish heritage of the Picts and the Celts both pre-Roman civilizations. The people were eventually Christianized, Westernized, and they became the modern day Scots and Irish. Sam couldn't necessarily trace her lineage back to her Celtic roots, but she was aware of the presence in the city. There's even an upcoming cultural festival called Celtic Connections celebrating the ties back to the Celtic Roots.
"That just fascinates me," I said to her. "We just don't have that back home."
I can say for myself, that I'm French, Irish, Polish, Scandinavian, and a handful of other nationalities. But I have no real tie to any of those countries other than the vague notion that my Great-Great Grandparents came over to American from those places. For all intents and purposes, I am American - but that raises another more complicated question of what actually is an American.
When I met Sam, she was able to confidently say "I am Irish" with a subtle knowledge of what it means to be an Irish Woman. I can say "I am American" with the confidence that it is true, but with no real idea of what that sentence actually means. Is it enough that I grew up in the Suburbs of Connecticut? Did I have to ride my bike down dirt roads and fall and scrape knees on American soil so that I shed a bit of me onto the ground, and rubbed some American dirt on the cut to heal it - is that American? Or is it enough that I have a picture from a government I don't really trust and a number in a complicated system that I know nothing about that makes me American? Does my Americanness hold up to scrutiny if I suddenly move to Midwestern United States? I have no idea.
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