This weekend the three of us went to Williamsburg. I was there in October for the state’s Association for the Gifted conference, but didn’t pay the ticket to go inside the buildings of the open-air museum.

We got into town right after 5 pm on Friday and only then discovered that if we had purchased multi-day tickets and used them for the first time on Friday, we would have saved a lot of money. On Saturday, the ticket price increased for the high season.

I also found out that teachers with their ID cards could get a 50% discount on the ticket price. Of course, I didn’t have mine. I called their ticket line and asked if I could bring in a pay stub instead.

“No, we need actual proof that you’re a teacher, not just an employee, so we need your teacher ID,” the woman said to me in a rather sassy voice.

I thanked her and hung up. Then I thought for a moment. My ID is a county-wide ID. It is the same as the ID my principal has, and the same as the school cooks and bus drivers. My intern’s is the only ID I’ve ever seen that’s different, because it says “intern” on it. I’m pretty sure even the long-term subs get the same ID.

I also considered that the counter employees and phone employees are often different. So I printed off my pay stub and the short version of my contract, which clearly says “teacher” on it.

We arrived at the historic site and I smiled sweetly and said, “I know teachers get a 50% discount and ID. I don’t have my school ID, but I do have my pay stub and a copy of my contract info…”

The clerk smiled, said I was well-prepared, and gave me the discount. I’m glad I didn’t listen to the lady on the phone!

Drying Meat at the Plantation

Foyer at the Governor’s Palace

18th Century Bedroom Print

Chandelier in a Very Green Room

We attended tours at the Governor’s Palace, Capitol Building, and Jail. We also talked extensively with a woman representing a slave at the plantation.

At the Palace, I just interpreted a few points quietly for Sister. Most of my translation was, “Ehhh, history, history, teenagers lived here.” We stood at the edge of the group, and it worked out well.

At the plantation, the woman said, “Oh, you’re interpreting. I’ll wait.” She waited after each point, and made eye contact with all three of us while she was speaking. That woman was awesome! Of course, we weren’t in a timed tour, so it was easy for her to take more time.

At the jail… Oh, at the jail! We got there just after another group started their tour, so we sat down and waited for a few minutes. The woman came to start our tour, even though we were the only ones waiting. She soon realized I was speaking another language to Sister. She said, “Oh! You’re translating! I’ll condense my points!” I nodded, and then she started speaking really…loudly.


We went inside and another family joined us. They appeared to be of South Asian descent, and were speaking perfect American English. She said, loudly, “This is the tour for foreigners! I’m speaking slowly so you can translate!”


I cringed. They looked at us. They looked at her. The mother said, “We are American.”

A third family came in, and she said (loudly), “I’m speaking slowly so she can translate!”

We left and Sister said, “Why was she so loud?”

“Because you don’t speak English.”


“I know.”

Fifes and Drums

Passing By

At the Bindery

Playing Cards

View from Jail

Good Man

Hanging out with Poultry at the Trial


Weaving, Spinning, Dying

Scale Model