Being Southern

Yesterday I got a revelation about myself: I'm a Southern belle. Now I have been called a Southern belle for years but scoffed at such a notion and was even insulted in my early days as a lawyer in Chicago when bright, intelligent people (even educated at Harvard) actually believed I was raised in a house that looked like Tara and was clothed and fed by my own, personal mammy. While my family did have a "maid" during the 70s (not anything like what was displayed in The Help) I was not raised on anything that remotely resembled a plantation. No, it was simply a middle class Eastern North Carolina neighborhood in a relatively poor military town where my dad was considered more affluent than most of his peers. A good sized ranch home with white columns was upgraded to a modern, architecturally designed two story with a basement when I entered high school.

I have to confess that for most of my life I was embarrassed that I was Southern--perhaps this came from an unnamed family member who fantasized about us being secretly connected to royalty or great wealth like the Vanderbilts. Basically, I was ashamed of our heritage and cringed at the horrible twang in our voices, lack of sophistication in our culture, learning, and intellect (which I later realized was due to plain ole ignorance) and the slow pace of life that doesn't sit well with a type A personality. But now, after moving back to the South after an extended absence, writing stories about the South, and learning about the rich history of the South (excluding the darkness of slavery), I can see that I was wrong. I have come to realize that being Southern is kind of cool.

I first got a glimmer of that when I lived in London for five years in the mid 90s. The Brits loved my accent and when my more twangy mother crossed the pond, they delighted in hearing her lilting drawl. That was a welcome respite after the chastisement and teasing from my Chicago days.

Just yesterday I read in Southern Living magazine that being Southern was "in," especially cultured Southerners who listen to symphony and opera and read classical literature only to step outside their farmhouse door and gather a basketful of organic eggs or harvest a bushel of fresh-grown peaches. That may sound extreme, and it is, since most of us "belles" live in suburban neighborhoods and firmly believe in Kroger and Publix. We're just normal people, really, who happen to talk a little funny, move a little slower, and can handle heat and high humidity in the dead of summer.

As I have grown in maturity and wisdom, I now recognize that being a modern-day Scarlet O'Hara is a real compliment, especially since she is one of the most beloved literary characters in the world. Beauty, strength, tenacity, perseverance, and resilience are all characteristics to be admired. So be proud of your heritage, whatever it is. And if you're a Southerner like me, be proud of your cheese grits, sausage gravy, and twang. Ain't that right, y'all?