I was born in Texas and like Texas Tea, steeped in everything that is Texas. My parents were born in Texas, dad just a few miles away from where I sit. Mom, about 90 miles to the east, somewhere near a fence post. Both had a fairly rough depression era youth, both turned out okay. In a post war sort of way.
I've seen a picture of them in their Sunday best, dressed up, hoofing down the sidewalk in downtown San Antonio. Dad in his Army dress, mom in a pair of 40's style heels and a dress with some breezy action. They were a pretty hot couple. Word has it that Dad had a motorcycle. Well, I know he had a Harley, as I've seen a photo of myself at age about 3, in shorts and cowboy boots sitting in the saddle. Then the Army - by then the new USAF - sent us to Portugal for a couple of years. Something about military and Germany. I mostly remember the Gypsies on a nearby beach. Incredibly enough, after that we landed in Fort Worth. Life since has mostly been in Texas. And that brings up some observations about things Texas, and what is that secession thing all about.
Every year in public schools there's some kind of history to learn, or actually two - make it three - kinds of history. Some of each may include revisionist history but mostly history as recorded and understood as general knowledge. Each of those three - make it four - histories are presented repeatedly over time. World history, U.S. history, and Texas history. And the fourth, revisionist history. Some of each, yearly in grade school. One of each during junior high school - middle school in some places - and more history in high school.
So it goes, lessons from time immemorial, from the teacher to the student, from the student to his personal adaptation. To develop his/her attitudes about what Texas is, and how Texas relates to the rest of the world.