Public school was canceled today in the Midlands of South Carolina. As were morning classes at the University of South Carolina, meaning my course EDHE 730, "Evolution (History) of American Higher Education" was canceled. The images I've posted here would not be strange in any of the states I've lived in previously—Utah, New Hampshire, and Pennsylvania (except that there no palm trees in any of those cold weather states). But it is strange to have snow in South Carolina. Snow on palm trees is definitely odd to see as you can see in the photo of snow on the young palm in our front yard.Instead of "Snow Falling on Palms," I could have titled this post as "French Toast Day" because whenever there is going to be a "snow day" everyone runs to the store and busy milk, eggs, and bread causing grocers to ask, "Why is everyone making French Toast today?" Or I could call it "A Blessed Day" because here in South Carolina people (a cashier at the store, a waitress at the diner, et cetera) regularly wish you a "blessed day" and because having a snow day on Inauguration Day is indeed a blessing. I love teaching and regret having class canceled this morning but being able to spend the day at home watching the Inaugural events with my children is wonderful. Teaching history is one thing; watching it unfold is quite another. So, a snow day couldn't have come on a better day.
Having a "snow day" reminds me of when I moved to New Hampshire in high school. Being from Utah, I didn't think anything of it the first time it snowed. I would carpool with my friends Grant and Maya to school every day. When Grant picked me up he said, gleefully, "I bet it's going to be a snow day!" His gleefulness made me think he was joking. The mere dusting on the ground made me think he was joking. That New Hampshire is a snow state, and the birthplace of the American ski industry, also made me think he was joking.
But then, as we drove to Nashua Senior High School the announcement came over the radio and I knew he wasn't joking. "Whaaaat?" was my response. But closing school for snow—if the superintendant even dreamed of snow it seemed—was the modus operandi in New Hampshire. (My poor sister had so many snow days her junior year that she was in school practically until July making up these snow days.) So we went to IHOP for breakfast, which was overflowing with high school students. Apparently, it was safe enough to drive to IHOP but not to school! (I do not, however, begrudge school districts and the University here in the Palmetto State for cancelling classes. There simply isn't the capacity to deal with the snow here—and why would it, given that it snows about once every half-decade?)
Speaking of New Hampshire, on this inaugural day I am reminded that I had the privilege of voting for a U.S. president for the first time in that important primary state. I just happened to turn 18 on election day—November 8, 1988. It was a thrill for me as someone who had been interested in politics from an early age. The first time I worked on a campaign was when I was only 15 years old and volunteered on my Uncle Robert's run for the Utah state legislature. Now I live in another important primary state as South Carolina holds the first Southern primary. I did what I could, volunteering for Mr. Obama in the lead-up to the South Carolina Primary. And we took the kids to see Obama speak at an event on the eve of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in downtown Columbia last year, a week before the Primary. (Save your "oh, you liberal professors" comments for another time.)
So, I was excited to receive an invitation to the "Grits & Granite" Inaugural Ball, sponsored by Democratic Parties of New Hampshire and South Carolina. I was tempted to RSVP, drive up after class today (about eight hours to D.C. from Columbia), attend the ball, find a place to crash, and then drive back. I decided against it, in part because I would miss seeing all of the Inaugural events; in part because I wanted to see these events with my family; and, in part, because spending about 16 hours driving just to have a few hours at a ball seemed a bit out of kilter. As I watch the day's events unfold I now wish I were there, just to be part of it in some small way. But with snow falling on palms, that drive could easily extend beyond the normal time. Even still, how can you not wish you were there?Well, whatever you call today—a Snow Day, a Blessed Day, Inagauration Day—it is certainly an amazing day.
