My grandson, Ian Alexander Banchs, will graduate from high school next week. Ian is a handsome young man who sings beautifully with a deep bass voice. He has worked hard and earned positions on various regional, area and state choir groups. He has been active in a local theatre group and has appeared in many local productions.
Ian applied and was accepted at two fine liberal arts universities, Austin College at Sherman (the oldest college in Texas--Sam Houston was on the original board) and the University of Dallas. After a lot of deep thought and soul searching, he has chosen to continue his education at the University of Dallas. Ian plans to be a musical anthropologist. He wants to study the effect of music on the cultures of people down through the ages, from the drums of Africa to the violins of Vienna.
Obviously, he didn’t consult with me before making this choice. I am certain there is a job out there for a musical anthropologist, but I wouldn’t know where. I have not seen headlines bemoaning the shortage of musical anthropologists in the fortune five hundred companies.
Ian has other talent, however, that hopefully will allow him to erase the prospect of eternal poverty from his future. Ian is a gifted writer. At age eighteen, he writes things that turn me green with envy. I will include an example of his prose.
Ian’s other grandparents, Wil and Delia Banchs, have a family tradition of providing a new dress suit for each of their grandchildren when they graduate from high school. I had the pleasure of taking Ian to buy this suit. I have attached his thank-you note for the gift.
“Dear Abuelo and Abuela,”
“I have a difficult time thanking people, not because I’m not grateful, but rather because I don’t know how to express my gratitude. This is especially true when I receive a gift like yours. It stirs within me a gratitude that words can only clumsily express, and yet that is what I’m tasked with, to express them. On the surface, it seems very simple; I should just thank you for the things. Thank you for the suit, the jacket, the slacks, the shoes. But that only addresses the superficial aspect of my gratitude; it would be better to say thank you for the first impression, the confidence, and the flexibility those things bring. It felt like a rite of passage as we walked through the store, my grandfather introducing me to the mysteries of men’s wear. The natives of New Zealand used to believe that the spirits of their ancestors resided in their weapons, protecting them in battle. That is how I feel, like all my family is lending me their support, arming me for whatever I may face in the future. And that is something I can’t begin to thank you all for.”
Eternally grateful,
Ian A. Banchs
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