Two Kids

Dani has a growing slate of weekly English classes that she teaches. She often comes home and tells me about one class in particular. The students are two teenage boys. One is 18 and about to enter college here in Brazil. The other is 14 and has his sights honed specifically on going to Harvard. Both have a fascination on some level with the US. And both keep asking about me and what I think.

Earlier this evening, I joined Dani's class as a guest lecturer of sorts. Me, her and the two students--who both turned out to be exceptionally bright and insightful--sat in school desks for an hour and chatted. I told them to ask me anything they wanted to know about America. The conversation started slow with them asking me my opinions on Brazil (every Brazilian does this), but we eventually hit on these topics:

Question: What is America's perception of Brazil?
Me: I said Americans usually think of Christ the Redeemer first. They think about Rio de Janeiro, beaches, soccer, Carnaval and pretty girls. They're also aware of the violence. I said that a surprising number of them have never heard of São Paulo, even though it's one of the world's ten biggest cities.

Question: Do you like soccer?
Me: No. I played it as a kid until I joined a new league that included a lot of Central and South American kids who slaughtered us. Then I quit.

Question: Do you like baseball?
Me: It's alright. I told them baseball is America's Pastime and then explained what that meant. I said some people are passionate about baseball, but at least half the stadium is there to drink, eat and socialize. Families often go to baseball games for the atmosphere. It's much more difficult to take a family to an American football game. Then I explained tailgating.

Question: What's it like to live in America?
Me: I explained growing up in Danville, VA. It was a small town where you had to have a car to go somewhere. We had a house with a front yard of grass and a driveway with a basketball goal. In the mornings, I would walk outside and the school bus would pick me up in front of my house and then drop me off there in the afternoon. Then I talked about Alexandria and living in a townhouse with my friends and the differences in the two places.
After this, the younger student said, "I know you are a good writer because you explain things very well." A+, young man.

Question: How do you understand English-language poetry? Because it doesn't make any sense to me. 
Me: Poetry sort of exists outside the rules of the English language. I said not to be discouraged because most people their age don't understand or care for poetry either. But it's a beautiful, wonderful thing. Poetry is often up to individual interpretation. What I get or don't get out of poem can be completely different than someone else. It's a way of expressing yourself just like painting is.
I added that poetry, though, is almost impossible to make a living at. And then, in my mind, I raised a fist up for many of my As Was Written brethren who are out there working it as we speak.

As we were coming to a close, I reversed one of their questions and asked, "What do Brazilians think about Americans?" I heard that we're annoyingly proud of ourselves and our many accomplishments. That we're rude. That Obama is a good president, but he's "weak" and is "no Lincoln."

We wandered into a political discussion where I tried to fairly describe the differing American views on guns, energy and diplomacy. I was also asked about my personal views on these topics, which I willingly gave.

Dani leaned over around this time to tell me the hour was up. I was surprised how fast the time went. I tried to wrap up the great American debate with a few final words.

Of the two, the younger student was the more outspoken. He also gave me his capsulated view on the difference between our respective countries. His words had a way of sticking.

"Brazil is a kid," he said. "We're a young country. America is a kid, too. But America is a kid with a gun."