Great Expectations

this is a bit delayed, but a response nonetheless!

My journey began in mid October when changing leaves brought a change of season in my own life. With a copy of Great Expectations in tow, I arrived in Scotland with similar sentiments, ready to embrace the Highland landscape and lifestyle. There I found a country beautiful both inside and out.

“Great Expectations” seemed a fitting theme at the start of a new adventure, not because I inherited a fortune from a mysterious benefactor and left a blacksmith apprenticeship. That was fictional. In real life, I had high hopes of engaging with people in a different educational context and culture. I wanted to learn and understand values of a people whose history is different from my own. Most importantly, I hoped to make some friends along the way.

The experience was greater than I had imagined. This short season in Scotland shaped my beliefs as an educator, shedding light on my own values—things that had always been there but were hidden beneath the stresses and demands of teaching in the States. Experiencing an educational setting that was completely different allowed me to identify my own approach to education. In short, this experience helped me become the teacher I want to be.

I will always remember the first day I met the staff at Avoch Primary School. As the first American student they had hosted, everyone wondered how I ended up in this small village school. The head teacher introduced me and asked, “Did you know Skinner is an Avoch name?” No, I had no idea.

I soon learned that the fishing village, Avoch, has a history of four “strong fishing families”—one being Skinner. In some small way this similarity affirmed my belief that I had come to the right place, and that we would find common ground for friendships to grow.

And they did grow. The people I met and the friends I made showed me nothing but kindness. I was welcomed by members of a community whose friendly faces and warm hospitality contrast its extreme northern climate. They welcomed me not only into their homes, but into their lives and their families. I found myself quite at home.


Haste Ye Back

Dicken’s describes Pip’s farewell, albeit a much more melodramatic scene, but one that mirrors my goodbye when I left Fortrose:

“…the village was very peaceful and quiet, and the light mists were solemnly rising, as if to show me the world, and I had been so innocent and little there, and all beyond was so unknown and great, that in a moment….I broke into tears. It was by the finger-post at the end of the village, and I laid my hand upon it, and said, ‘Goodbye O my dear, dear friend!’

Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts.”

The rains in Scotland softened mine. I left pieces of my heart in the Highlands--in a classroom of kids and a wee village by the sea. A friend shared a Scottish saying with me, “haste ye back.” I certainly hope so, and with great expectations.



P.S. Confession: I still haven't finished the book.