The concept of a coat of arms, consisting of a personal crest or mark, has captivated me ever since creating this blog . . . no, that’s not right. It was earlier then that, sometime around fourth grade, I think. Beowulf, the adventures of Arthur and his knights, or some other tale of chivalry occupied the whole of our afternoon literature assignment. After completing the unit, Mrs. Limmer had asked the class to construct a shield from the various flotsam scattered around the room: construction paper, assorted bunny stickers, and select clippings from discarded People.Wisely I discarded the Madonna splashed magazines and relied upon my Crayola markers and one or two angry(-ish) bunnies. The result, an orange triangle adorned with clovers, a poorly drawn ant/horse, and one or two favorite quotes, time has since buried amid report cards and eighth grade book reports. Still I took special pride in the project; after all, in the story, the brave knight’s coat of arms embodied his beliefs and values, a symbol — of sorts — for himself.
That was cool for me. Continue reading