It appears that I have managed to get all A’s this semester. I’m grateful that I did as well as I did. I had the same Instructor for two of my classes. The two classes with her were Criminal Justice and Criminology. I loved the Criminal Justice class. The book was an overview of law and criminal justice throughout the ages. She would ask questions to see if we actually read the chapters and the room would fall silent. So, starting on the first day of classes, I started answering the questions and giving my opinion on the subject at hand. Two other students and myself were the only one’s throughout the entire term.
We discussed English Law and how Common Law came into effect in the states in her classes and others. Actually, my state still observes English Common Law. In my Law class we went back to how laws were developed in the Roman Empire. It was quite fascinating. I’m a lover of history, so I inhaled those chapters.
The other class I had with her was Criminology. She’s a grand professor and all, but I despised the subject matter. They used statistics to claim that children of career criminals have a higher probability, due to their environment, of being criminals as well. Hello? Is anyone home? You don’t have to spend millions of dollars to figure that out. It’s common sense, people! And, don’t even get me started on Freud. He was a drug addict that scribed theories in a drug induced state. But, because he is considered a founder by so many highly paid nutters, I have to take his words as though they are holy.
She and I talked a lot between classes, so she knew that if we talked about Australia or the English imprisonment of the Irish rebels (no offense to the English. I realise that the Monarchy treated you all just as bad as the Irish, Scottish, and Welsh), I’d speak up and give a brief history. On a few occasions, I tended to get too passionate and mutter on for too long. And, when we got to imprisonment of slaves during and before the Civil War, an older African-American lady spoke up. So, the two or three of us that spoke up and we all learned a lot. I still have much to learn about the law.
One day I was telling the teacher about getting into a bit of trouble with TSA. As I was heading down the hallway to leave, one of the young women that never says anything tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and asked her what was up. With a countenance that would raise the heartbeat of any man, she smiled, threw her hair back, and said, “I’m Irish”.
Now, I’ve never stated in any class that I’m Irish. I’ve said that my ancestors were mostly Irish.
“Really?”
“Yeah, like, my grandmother was from LondonDerry.”
“You mean Derry?”
“I guess….I was wondering if you wanted to get some coffee and tell me more about the Irish?”
“Sure”, I said with glee.
Anyway, we had a coffee and a I found out that she’s only 18. Those damn morals got in the way again. To make a long story short, I told her she was a plastic paddy like me. There are so many young people out there desperately seeking an identity. If the parents don’t step up and tell them of their history and that they should be proud of their ancestors, they are certain to pick the wrong identity. When I’m asked if I’m Irish, I tell people I’m an American of Irish ancestry and I’m proud of my ancestors whether they were fisherman or nobles. Right, she was really into the fact that I had gotten into trouble with TSA. And, I told her about my troubles with the Hollyroodhouse British authorities. Women say they don’t want a troublemaker, but they really do. If that angel on my shoulder hadn’t been yelling louder, who knows… 
Here’s a few shots from my latest photowalk. My next post will be structured better. Sorry for getting off topic.
