This Ain’t Texas

I sometimes forget that I live in Texas. Or, I forget that I don’t live in the Texas I am accustomed to. I lived in Austin, which is full of rich people, hipsters, and tech people from California. I lived in El Paso, which is a flavor all its own way out on the elbow of the state, more in New Mexico and Mexico than Texas. I’ve lived in Sugar Land, which is extremely diverse and suburban.

Now, I live north of Houston. I prepared my kids for a more diverse student body than they are used to (Austin is mostly white, El Paso is mostly hispanic) and talked to them about different symbols of religion and culture to be respectful of when they saw them in their classrooms. We talked about making an effort to pronounce each child’s name correctly, and to be curious but kind about what other kids bring for lunch.

When I walked my kids into school on their first day in January, it was clear I’d given them the wrong speech. Sure, it’s far more diverse than they are used to, but that wasn’t what stood out. No, it was the bedazzled boot cut jeans and mud-coated boots that caught my eye. Saucer-sized belt buckles galore. We drive past cows and horses to get most places because, even though there are citified suburbs out here, we live between two major hubs, which gives our area more of a rural feel at times.

The rodeo is a dressup event for people, for sure, but a good number of folks dress like they’re going to the rodeo every day. Most of my experience with Texans has involved people acting and dressing as citified as possible and working to hide their accents. When I see the opposite – people embracing their country flair – it takes me a second to realize where I am. This place is more…Texas than I originally understood.

The boots are for fashion, but also for life. If they were for style, they wouldn’t be muddy, and same goes for the jeans. If you win certain competitions you get a flashy belt buckle, some of which are worn proudly in public. I was shocked to see the dance team from a local high school were wearing glittery cowboy hats and boots. I thought maybe that high school must serve more rural kids, but this month I saw our high school and they wear the same getup in a different color.

Since I started working, I’ve been in a lot of homes and met a lot of people. Since I know everyone who isn’t from Texas is wondering the same thing – yes, there are guns. There are safes of guns. Closets of guns. Cases of guns. Guns under beds. Guns in drawers. Guns in the bathroom. Guns leaning against walls. Guns they forgot about. Can you imagine owning something that costs several hundred dollars and could kill a human being and forgetting where you put it? “Oh! I’ve been looking for that one!”

To go with the guns, there are taxidermied animal heads, both local fare like deer, and big game. Don’t forget the freezers full of meat! At least when they go hunting, they often eat what they kill. Not the zebras, I assume, but still. I can attest that the deer heads aren’t as heavy as they look, even with the big antlers, and they are almost soft and don’t smell.

The guns and dead animals were less surprising than the homecoming mums. I have never in my life seem something so ridiculous. This monstrosity of bows and ribbon is the size of a sandwich board and you wear it around your neck for like an hour and it costs $250. I do not understand this tradition at all. They are so precious that when you move, you hang them in a wardrobe box so nothing tragic happens to them. For reference, a wardrobe box is between $15-$18 and a lot of moving companies charge by volume. A box the size of a small refrigerator to move a necklace of gift bows? I cannot comprehend what would possess people to pay money for this. One woman assured me she could make one herself on the cheap – it was $150. I was told girls used to wear them for multiple homecoming occasions, but now they are worn for an hour or two. Also, they used to look like a corsage plus a first place ribbon. Now they cover you from neck to knees. A $250 pick-me girl award that expires after sixty minutes. But…why? And then you have to buy the outfit for the Homecoming dance on top of the mum? Hell to the no. This feels similar to finding out quinceaneras cost as much as weddings. No. Nope. Nyet. Nein.

I am struck by the number of activities these kids participate in, even when they’ve got siblings. Sure, a lot of families have help, but when you’ve got four kids who do cheer, football, hockey, soccer, basketball, baseball, volleyball, and math olympiad, well, color me impressed. Of course, they have the gear to go with all the activities, all of which needs organizing and storing, so they call my company. I now transport mums, find guns, manhandle dead animal heads, pair crocodile boots, and sort baseball bats. It’s not all pretty pantry bins and color sorted closets, my friends.

You learn a lot about a community when you visit their schools and spend time in their homes. I didn’t originally appreciate how very Texan this part of Texas would be, but here we are, and the people have been kind and welcoming. I may eventually own cowboy boots, my kids will have to do every sport, but I am absolutely not spending a dime on homecoming mums. Everything is bigger here – the guns, the bows, the sports, and I respect the traditions of the people here, but absolutely no fucking mums.