My Essence story - Fancy a cuppa?
When I was a child I would go to my grandparents house on weekends. We would bring out a hot pot of tea and a big plate of biscuits. There would be penguins (it’s a biscuit), chocolate bourbons, hob-nobs, and digestives. I loved dipping my biscuit in the tea and letting it soak up all the liquid, making the biscuit soggy. At that age I obviously cared more about the sugary treats than the ritual of drinking tea, but the simple act of drinking tea would grow to be the thing that kept me connected to my home. I moved from England to the United States when I was 11 years old.
The middle school years are a valuable time of self exploration and identity formation. I was a little British kid living in America and I desperately wanted to fit in. I let go of a lot of what made me me and tried to absorb the culture I now found myself in. I forgot about the joy that afternoon tea brought me, because I couldn’t pop over to my grandarent’s house for a quick afternoon tea. There was an entire ocean and continent between us. Not only did I lose the tradition, but I eventually lost the people that I would share those moments with. My grandfather passed away suddenly when I was 15 and my grandmother eventually passed after a long struggle with Alzheimer's when I was in my 20’s. Her passing hit me harder than I thought it would. I had the realization that I no longer had that strong familial connection to my homeland. All my grandparents had passed and my extended family was very few. I decided that if my heritage was important to me, then it was up to me to restart this tradition.
When I moved to San Diego with my now wife, one of our first purchases was a teapot. Rather than waking up and having coffee on Sunday mornings, we brewed a pot of tea. We went to the English shop and purchased biscuits to dip into the tea. It grew to our own tradition that I now love to share with friends, colleagues, and students. In England drinking tea is a relatively mundane tradition that everyone partakes in on a daily basis, yet for me it is a thing that connects me to who I am and brings me pride. It is up to me to keep that tradition alive.
The middle school years are a valuable time of self exploration and identity formation. I was a little British kid living in America and I desperately wanted to fit in. I let go of a lot of what made me me and tried to absorb the culture I now found myself in. I forgot about the joy that afternoon tea brought me, because I couldn’t pop over to my grandarent’s house for a quick afternoon tea. There was an entire ocean and continent between us. Not only did I lose the tradition, but I eventually lost the people that I would share those moments with. My grandfather passed away suddenly when I was 15 and my grandmother eventually passed after a long struggle with Alzheimer's when I was in my 20’s. Her passing hit me harder than I thought it would. I had the realization that I no longer had that strong familial connection to my homeland. All my grandparents had passed and my extended family was very few. I decided that if my heritage was important to me, then it was up to me to restart this tradition.
When I moved to San Diego with my now wife, one of our first purchases was a teapot. Rather than waking up and having coffee on Sunday mornings, we brewed a pot of tea. We went to the English shop and purchased biscuits to dip into the tea. It grew to our own tradition that I now love to share with friends, colleagues, and students. In England drinking tea is a relatively mundane tradition that everyone partakes in on a daily basis, yet for me it is a thing that connects me to who I am and brings me pride. It is up to me to keep that tradition alive.