Magna Carta Meltdown By Mary Clare Gordon Colin bit his lip for about the hundredth time and shuffled along the museum hallway with the group of students. "One more crack about the redcoats, and I will scream," he said to himself. He had only been in the States for a few months, but to his everlasting despair, his family had arrived just in time for his mom to sign him up for this school trip to Washington, D. C. "It will be fun," she had said. "And you will meet new friends." So here he was, hearing about the Americans who fought against the "evil" British. And so far, no friends, though he had noticed a group of girls pointing at him and giggling earlier. Colin was determined that his adjustment to life in America would not include a dislike for his own country. Sure, America used to be a colony of Great Britain, but it was not like British citizens today still felt the pain of the rebellion—certainly not to the extent the guide of this tour led one to believe. "It was the most remarkable thing," the guide was saying. Colin only half-listened, focusing instead on the flag-covered tie the guide was wearing. "Imagine travelling halfway around the world to find that you really weren't who you thought you were. Instead of a citizen of Britain, you became something else: a citizen of America, someone who wanted a say in how your government worked." Colin didn't have a hard time imagining much of that. He had travelled half-way around the world. He had been wondering who he might become as a result of those travels. But so far, he still really longed for his home—his real home—in England. He missed his friends. He missed the sights, smells, and sounds of his neighborhood. When his mother said the word home now, he knew she meant their new house in the U. S. But he always thought wistfully of their London apartment. "Imagine a system that offered protection to the common person," the guide continued. "Imagine the opportunity to create a system of government that would protect everyone. What would you start with?