September 27, 2014 - Alexander McDonald

H.M.F.M. Chapter Two: “Penitentiary and….”

After writing several books now, and looking back at my first book “Hire Me or Fire Me,” like many, most, or maybe only a few authors would say, “I wish I did this or that different, or  “I wish I took longer to describe this or that moment,” and for me, being my worst critic, I do wish that I took a much longer time to play out the events in each chapter of my crazy life experiences, in Canada and the U.S.A. for that matter. But my hopes were and are, that you could picture yourself in my shoes, or better yet “not” in my shoes during many of my maniac moments. You see, life in Great Britian, or life in Independant Scotland,  for my brave separatists, was far different than in Canada. In Canada the sense of self intitelement that I experienced from many spoiled Canadian kids and from the hands of their overly indulging parents, was in drastic contrast to the disciplined life of Scottish kids, and the dynamic they shared within the typical British family. When I graduated from grade six, as was expected for any ten or eleven year old, my canadian school peers asked me what I was getting for graduating, as they were getting holidays, bicycle’s toys gifts and cash. So, as I was the “reluctant re-born Canadian” I nievely  asked my mom and dad, what was i to get for graduating from the “ever so challenging carriculum,” that the academic year in a challenging grade sixes life was. My father’s response was a colourful array of Scottish Slang, and if you ever watched the hilarious TV show “Mrs. Browns Boys,” which is the televised reality show version of my crazy family, his answer was “Well son, I’ll tell Ye what yer gonna bloody get – if ye don’t bloody graduate from freakin’ grade six!” So, my fate was set out in stone, I was destined to be living the same strict life of a Scottish kid, under the guise of a canadian, minus the perks and presents. So, hence the title “penitentiaries” and the “playground” part fully relates. As most kids would agree playgrounds are the best part of the academic curriculum at school for any ten, eleven, or twelve year old. But for me – that was not the case. In Scotland, everyone and I mean everyone wore a tie, or a bow tie to school, and grey slacks, a white shirt and a blazer. Well, as you may well know, in Canada or the USA, unless it’s a very strict Catholic, private, or military school, kids do NOT wear uniforms, and for those that were stupid, nieve, or suicidal enough to do so, they held their very own  life in their own hands, and the playground for me became a battle ground of abuse, ridicule and torment, a memory I gladly have buried deep in the forgotten caverns of my mind.

What was life like for you as “the new kid in school”  perhaps the Muslim girl, that to this day gets rebuked or teased for something as simple, as wearing ones cultural or religious clothing.

I’d like to hear your stories, whether they be both funny or sad.

Blessings, peace and joy.



Hire Me or Fire Me

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