I'M A HOLZGANG.
For me, growing up, that came with some expectations for how I behaved and conducted myself in public. A lot of it was little things. Such as, when you're a Holzgang you correct every single person who goes, "Oh! you're German" to explain that "actually, I'm Swiss." Others where a little bigger. For example, I have vivid memories of being told "Holzgangs don't quit" on multiple occasions. Like that time in 5th grade when I didn't feel like practicing violin and my dad made me practice Simple Gifts over and over saying, "Holzgangs don't quit." (I can still play that song by memory on every instrument I own.) Or the time in 7th grade when I'd been attacked by hornets (itchy, painful hornet bits all over my body) and I still had to go to volleyball practice that day because Holzgangs don't quit. Or that time when I was 30 and decided to give up alcohol for 100 days but then got a really exciting job offer and wanted to have a sip of champaign to celebrate but couldn't because Holzgangs don't quit, and when I talked to my mom about it she laughed because apparently my dad quits stuff all the time.... wait, what?!Read More