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Illustration by Brooklin Holbrough
Growing up in Calgary, our young boys are only able to see history in the “historic buildings” that date back to the early 1900s. We wanted to take our kids further back in time: ancient castles, medieval monuments and grand palaces dating back hundreds of years. These are some of the epic markers of history that we wanted our boys, aged 13, 10 and 6, to see firsthand.
We decided to take a family trip to Edinburgh.
Scotland holds a personal connection as my kids have Scottish heritage on both sides of their family tree. Our hope was that this trip would also help our kids to get a feel for the country of their ancestors: their culture, their people.
Our airport taxi driver became a cultural ambassador, of sorts. He pointed out landmarks and provided tidbits of historical information. Through his thick Scottish brogue, he also encouraged us to connect with our own past by visiting the National Records of Scotland office. There we could access birth certificates, marriage records and the like. My sleepy, jet-lagged kids perked up at this suggestion. They barely knew the names of their relatives but they were yearning to dig into their past and this suggestion was inviting.
On our way into the city we passed stately Edinburgh Castle high on the craggy volcanic cliff of Castle Rock. City streets were lined with buildings from the Middle Ages and intersected by narrow passageways. The ancient volcano, Arthur’s Seat lies in the background of all this amazing architecture, but definitely does not take a back seat. Rising above the city, its peak serves as a reminder of the moody moorlands and fields rich with heather and thistle that covers much of Scotland beyond its cities.
After depositing our belongings at our hotel we started meandering through the bustling streets.
The centre of all the action was found on the Royal Mile, a road spanning the distance between the Edinburgh Castle and the Palace of Holyroodhouse. This street has long provided royals with a direct path between fortress and residence, as well as a place for royal-watchers to view a procession of their King or Queen.
But the kids had no interest. What had captured their attention were the many souvenir shops lining the street.
We decided to appease them and popped in and out of a few. We saw typical Scottish fare: boxed shortbread, plush Lochness monsters (my favourite), and warm woollen sweaters. But there was one store that my kids wanted to linger in. This store housed a larger sort of cultural clothing emporium. The boys were drawn to a far wall covered in tartan scarves arranged in alphabetical order by clan.
The wall of tartan scarves was expansive but they quickly located the tartan patterns of their ancestors and my 10-year-old picked up one of each. His arms became like the branches of his family tree – he held a maternal Cunningham tartan in his right hand and a paternal MacPherson tartan in his left. His two brothers stood close and they peered at the patterns together. They were enchanted by the colourful intersecting lines in each pattern. Both tartans are predominantly red, though the MacPherson tartan has more varied colours, a bold yellow, a rich green and a dark blue. The Cunningham tartan just has simple black and white lines running over its red backdrop. Both were beautiful and timeless and my kids were awestruck.
Like many families, my boys are a blend of cultures: German, Irish, Ukrainian, Polish and Scottish. The link to their heritage has grown weak over time as grandparents, the sharers of traditions and customs, have passed on. Their many cultures of origin seem distant and foreign and they definitely don’t feel any sort of strong connection to them. But I could see that changing in this souvenir shop.
Although the boys weren’t precisely sure how these patterns came about nor what specifically they symbolized, they understood that they had a personal connection to these unique designs. They seemed to understand these scarves were more than mere mementos, they represented their own family history. This was proof that their relatives existed in this country and made a mark that continues through to the current generation. It wasn’t a complicated family tree to memorize or some convoluted story about a past slight, it was a family history that was easy to absorb and appreciate. They had found a tangible link to their past.
We didn’t expect our kids to have this somewhat profound cultural connection in Scotland, let alone while in the middle of a pretty average souvenir store selling tchotchkes and postcards. However, we embraced it and realized that you can’t predict what may grab a child’s attention.
We didn’t even end up purchasing any tartan-clad items. Surprisingly, even our kids knew that the magic of the tartans lay in the cherishing of the feeling of their initial discovery.
Kristi Kasper lives in Calgary.