I'm Not Really From Texas

Part of my teaching position at L'Università di Bologna was a large (125 students) lecture course on British and American Literature. The set-up for the classroom was nothing like I had ever known, nor care to repeat. The students were on a lower level as there is a real "upstairs/downstairs" attitude in Italian universities and the students are much more obsequious to the professors than in America or Belgium. (OK, maybe that part of the class I enjoyed.) My students at The University of Texas at Austin had called me Dr. Rob, or sometimes even Rob. I don't even go by "Rob," so you can see the difference pretty clearly.

As a result of them being physically on a different level, I had to sit up on a podium accessed by stairs and had a railing around this small loft, with a table and a microphone on it that is like the ones that used to be in the airport to announce flights. If you have seen the famous "outing" episode with Ellen DeGeneres, you know what I mean.

So, there I would reign supreme above my minions, or so I thought. They apparently didn't understand a word I said for three weeks. And I had thought all of the giggles were coy little, flirtatious signals from the female students. Not quite.

About three weeks into the course, Nicole R., one of my favorite students approached me on my throne after class with a covey of giggling girls behind her, again, me thinking they were flirtatious Italians... She said, "Umm. Professore Fulton (respect at last!), some of the students asked me to speak with you about your class." I thought to myself, "Teaching awards? Already? Best class they had ever had? Americans really are smart!"

As I was rehearsing my acceptance speech in my mind, some of the other giggling girls goaded Nicole on in Italian. At that point, I had not learned enough Italian, so in my head I heard, "Go on Nicole, tell him how brilliant his lectures are, that he should replace Eco himself..." and so on.

So, Nicole approaches me further with her polished British accent that she was quite proud of as the other students had much more pronounced Italian accents.

"Umm. Professore Fulton (never gets old), there seems to be a problem with your class lectures."

Problem? What, they're not long enough? Was it my hair? (still had some then, and a sporty "European Professor" goatee). Were they swooning too much to listen.

"Oh, okay, what seems to be the problem?"

"Well, Sir (chaa-ching), it's your accent..."

My accent? Too suave? Too debonaire? Too, too?

"What do you mean, Nicole? Is there a problem with my accent."

"Ummm...yes Sir, nobody can understand your heavy Texas accent."

Thump. That was my Ego that fell.

Well, if you have ever heard me speak, you will know that I have absolutely NO ACCENT, in fact, most people don't know where I am from when I speak.

So, I replied, "Ahh....I see, my Texas accent. Okay, thanks, Nicole, I will be sure to address that."

Nicole turned, related the dialog to the others in Italian, and there was much laughter, mirth, pointing and giggling, more laughter, tears, lots more laughter. Finally, I just left the room because it became unbearable.

The next class I ascended my royal loft and thumped on the microphone and addressed the collective bated breath of the class.

"Apparently, there seems to be something wrong with my Texas accent and you are having trouble understanding me," I said quite slowly and deliberately, sans any trace of an accent.

Lots of hugging and patting on the back, hail Mary's and processions took place. Nicole was hoisted on the shoulders of her peers and general merriment ruled for the next twenty minutes or so. When the ruckus had subsided, I said,

"Eff ayya spoak in a reyaal texssassh accsent, y'all wudn't unnerstan a gaosh dern thang ayya was a'sayin."

Dead silence, or at least as silent as Italian students could be. You could have heard a penne drop. (in my mind, that joke will never get old).

I resumed my lectures in my "Canadian Newscaster" normal speaking voice and there were no more discussions about Texas accents in the class.

That was the end of the lesson on assumptions for the day.