London Recalling

My punk rock face, in Notting Hill at the Portobello ReCollection.

Traveling to England is something I've wanted to do for a long time. Along with majoring in English and possessing a robust appreciation of British film and TV, my adolescent crush on New Wave music spawned a tentacle-waving Kraken that locks onto tasty morsels of song at every opportunity...especially those palate-pleasing English tunes. In June, I finally got the chance to go to London (and see two very kind friends who took me all over the place!).

The music obsessed can spend a great deal of time lamenting the strange reality that no one quite understands the music they hold so dear, and I'm not one to enjoy the fact that many of the artists I like are either unknown or considered weird. This mega-group-U2 loving woman would be down with the world loving Yoko Ono. Unlikely to happen, but at least people know who Yoko is. What a pleasure then to share this scrap from my travel journal:

"So cool to be in a country where you can hear PJ [Harvey] on the radio, Is This Desire? blaring out of a record store in Brighton. ROCK ON ENGLAND! I am Anglo. Even at the Little Chef I heard 70s David Bowie, New Order on every commercial, The Cure for kicks...YEAH! Yeah! Yeah!"

I wrote that on the plane on the way back, slightly delirious, part of my enthusiasm stemming  from being able to claim a piece of my heritage. I've long said I was "white" or "Caucasian", but thanks to the awesome group of students I got to teach last year, the fabulous discussions we had about race/identity, and guest speaker Jim Garcia, I realized that those descriptions don't actually communicate anything about who I am. Finally going to a country whose art has meant so much to me, and whose genetics I contain, embracing that I am Anglo felt clarifying and true.

Of course, the hunger isn't satiated. I can't wait to go return to England!