I had my first debate when I was six with my first grade school teacher. How do I know it was a debate? I had learned that a debate is a discussion where both sides of an argument are heard by both people. An argument is when both people are either talking at the same time or one person is talking so loud they cannot hear the other person's point of view.

Nothing can be accomplished with an argument. I was a very stubborn child and so my grandmother and I had several debates within the first year after my adoption. I questioned a lot of things because I had never seen a lot of things. I was very inquisitive and would listen and logic things out in my mind. Most the time I my logic would not necessarily lead to the correct answer, therefore, debates were necessary.

I learned to love my first grade teacher but I think it took her a while to learn to love me. I was the Dennis the Menace of her class. I challenged her with any statement she made that did not make sense to me. Once she said she was not going to argue with me about something and I immediately set her straight about the difference between an argument and a debate. I think that was her first clue that she was in for an interesting year.

Reciting the alphabet was the first time I was actually put on a chair in the corner of the room... facing the corner. My grandmother and I had practiced and practiced it for hours. Then once she decided I had it all memorized she thought she would make it fun so she started making up things about the letters. Grandmother had asked me if I knew which letter could run down my leg? Simple, the “p” of course. We both laughed. However, a little knowledge can be very dangerous in the mind of a six year old. The next day at school my teacher wanted me to stand in front of the class and recite the alphabet. I was extremely shy at that age. I refused to do it. She then said I could do it from my chair. I still did not want to do it. She demanded I recite the alphabet. So, being such a good brat, I recited the alphabet, skipping the “p”. When the teacher questioned me about my alphabet missing a letter; I said I could not, because it had just run down my leg. She chuckled as she put me on the chair in the corner.

We came into the classroom one day and there on the long bulletin board was a huge map of the United States. Each state was drawn out and marked. The teacher want to find out how many native Texans she had in class.

Now, to any of the other kids it may seem like a simple question but to someone who was adopted in Oklahoma and then moved to Texas it was a different thing all together. Once my new mom had called me her first born. I questioned that because even though my sister and I had been adopted together, I knew she was not my birth mother. She said my birth certificate says she is my mother. She told me I was born in her heart. That had been my answer anytime any one ever asked where I came from. I was born in my mommy's heart.

When the question came up about where I was born in school; I decided I was a Texan. I told the teacher that I was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma but I was a Texan. The teacher said, we are going to have to 'debate' this one. The teacher asked me how I could be born in Oklahoma and call myself a native Texan. Simple. My mother is a native Texan, my daddy is a native Texan, my grandmother is a native Texan and I was born in their hearts. They just had to go to Oklahoma to pick me up.

I folded my arms across my chest and stuck my quivering chin out. I stared at the teacher to see what she would do. She saw a tear going down my cheek as I stared up at her. I was ready to fight her on this one.

She suddenly smiled and instantly stopped and gave me a very sweet hug. “You are absolutely right... You are a Texan.”

I let out the breath I had been holding and said, “That's good. I thought we were going to have to put you in the corner.” I heard her giggle.

Tags: Children Humor