9 Things I’ve Learned Growing Up in the ‘Sip
9 Things I’ve Learned Growing Up in the ‘Sip
Posted on March 27, 2014 by eeliston
1. Manners. This is probably the most defining aspect of Southerners in general, but especially down here in the Deep South. Yes ma’am, no ma’am, yes sir, no sir, please, thank you, tell your mom/dad/sister/brother/aunt/extended living family member I said hi! Whenever I sit down at my grandmother’s table for Sunday night dinner, I hear my mother’s repertoire of “Sit up straight elbows off the table napkin in your lap” run through my head, the song of my childhood. It gets so much more complicated when you’re older: whether or not to address your best friend’s mamma as Ms. or Miss (even if she’s married), throwing some “bless your hearts” in your everyday conversations and actually meaning it, obsessively hand-writing thank you notes, the list goes on and on. I become mentally traumatized when someone tells me not to call them “ma’am”, I really don’t know how to handle it and momentarily implode. Etiquette is my crack. The simplest things are the most important, after all.
2. How to Make Your Own Fun. Mississippi is not NYC, and thank god, because if it was half of us wouldn’t have the interesting scars, bumps, and bruises that promise an interesting story. For example, my neighborhood gang of children and I would play Quidditch with Razr scooters on the patched up and cracked up Belhaven streets. The result? Two pairs of skinned knees and a lifetime of Post-Traumatic Scooter Disorder. So there’s nothing to do, and you have about three choices for fun: go eat some food with your friends, go shopping, or go exploring. I can’t tell you the amount of hours that slipped away (as well as gallons of gas - sorry Mom!) with me, my friends, my nasty maroon ’98 Nissan Sentra, and the endless roads. Windows down and a stop to Sonic, and then you cruise around and look for trouble. You just gotta make your own fun.
3. How to Party. It involves cheap beer, loud rock music, and usually a fire where you wouldn’t expect one. In high school this was rare but exhilarating, in college it’s common and usually involves the buzz kill that is the campus police (I SEE YOU UPD, YOU ARE NOT MY FRIEND. I SEE YOU TOO COBRA PARKING TICKET GIVERS, YA TURDS.) Behold the glory of the spring party: it involves mud, dressing up like a redneck (not at all hard for some of us to do), some sort of vacant field, more mud, more cheap beer, and really aggressive bus drivers who tote us to and fro. We’re quite good at it. It’s not really a party until someone breaks something or punches a hole in the drywall. And plus, I go to Ole Miss. That’s pretty much an example in itself on how to party.
4. How to Take A Punch. When I tell people from out-of-state that I’m from Mississippi, I might as well be painting a target on my heart. Here come the fat jokes, the slavery jokes, the Civil War jokes, the uneducated jokes, the shoe-less jokes, the farmer jokes, the inbred jokes, the racism jokes, the list goes on an on. I get so torn up about it I have to restrain myself from saying something cutting. Here’s how it works: I can make fun of Mississippi all I want, I grew up here, I know it in and out, I have earned that right. But the foreigners do not have that right. I love this quote from Kathryn Stockett in The Help: “Mississippi is like my mother. I am allowed to complain about her all I want, but God help the person who raises an ill word about her around me, unless she is their mother too.” I have to calmly argue back, but I never win: the preconceived notions are too strong. I take the punch, and just become more determined to be someone who helps delete the stereotypes.
5. Respect Your Heritage. You could also file this under ‘Tradition’. It’s important to remember where you came from. Personally, my family is Anglo-Norman-Irish, and all of my original American ancestors came South to farm land and make a profit. We are a society based on agrarian heritage, and therefore still keep agrarian values, such as respect for our wildlife and forests, as well as instinctual love of Mississippi’s natural beauty. I can’t imagine settling the Mississippi Territory in 1815, let alone raising a family and depending solely on myself for survival. Look, I’ve played Oregon Trail, I know how I would end up - I always died of starvation in the desert. Props to you, ancestors, for branching out on your own and looking for opportunity. I also respect my ancestors who fought for their freedom - Revolutionary, Confederate, World War I and II, Korean War, so on. They fought for what they believed in and to protect their rights and their families, and I must admire them for that.
6. The Arts. Mississippi produces musicians, photographers, artists, and writers by the bushel. Why? Because we need a way to express and deal with the everyday crazy that we come in contact with. We paint landscapes and cannonballs blowing up our backyards. We sing the blues because we feel sorrow and joy down to the core. We photograph extreme poverty and the beauty of a Georgian mansion in Natchez. And we write - we write and write and write about conflict, our insane families, the land, everyone around us, tragedy, comedy, and especially drama. Drama is everywhere. As a writer, I find no better place to be than Mississippi - I never run out of things to write about. I see an old white man snub a friendly black cashier, and I write about lingering racial intolerance. I watch as my friends and I go through relationships, and I write about the meaning of love. I write. He paints. She sings. We all record and produce what we feel so we don’t take ourselves out to the backyard and shoot ourselves.
7. Tolerance and Acceptance. Were you surprised to see this listed here? I’ve learned to coexist neutrally with those who don’t agree with my particular views and accept those who are different than I am. This was the greatest lesson my mother ever taught me. A friend is a friend, no matter their race, religion, creed, or sexuality. If God loves all of us just the way he made us, who am I to hate anyone? I often stray from this rule, as I am human and fallible. But I am determined to defend those that others would persecute.
8. Hardiness. So there’s a tornado. And a hurricane. And the river’s flooding. And gas prices are up, and milk is expensive, and everything is going to hell in a hand basket. Southerners are the closest thing to British people in America, and as the Brits like to say, we “Keep Calm And Carry On”. We won’t budge a muscle if faced by trying circumstances, we’ll just buck up and go about our day. Southerners do not make a habit of losing their cool over things they cannot control, they simply readjust to fit new circumstances. The only exception to this rule is winter weather. Because what in the world does one do when they are surrounded by the sordid frozen hell that has occurred this winter? I’m almost as south as you can go in the US, and I can’t even stand it. I briefly considered moving to San Juan, Puerto Rico, but changed my mind because that meant I would miss baseball season.
9.We’re the Best. Sorry everybody else who isn’t us, but we are better than you. We have more culture in our pinkie nail than y’all have in whatever state you came from. And we’re naturally more interesting. We never meet a stranger. The weather is better, the tea is divine, and who cares if I get fat from all the fried food, at least I will die FAT AND HAPPY. Women know how to take care of themselves and dress up, and men know how to be gentlemen. And we’re really, really ridiculously good looking. There’s nothing like Mississippi anywhere else, and though she and I may have our squabbles, I love her to death.
Posted on March 27, 2014 by eeliston
1. Manners. This is probably the most defining aspect of Southerners in general, but especially down here in the Deep South. Yes ma’am, no ma’am, yes sir, no sir, please, thank you, tell your mom/dad/sister/brother/aunt/extended living family member I said hi! Whenever I sit down at my grandmother’s table for Sunday night dinner, I hear my mother’s repertoire of “Sit up straight elbows off the table napkin in your lap” run through my head, the song of my childhood. It gets so much more complicated when you’re older: whether or not to address your best friend’s mamma as Ms. or Miss (even if she’s married), throwing some “bless your hearts” in your everyday conversations and actually meaning it, obsessively hand-writing thank you notes, the list goes on and on. I become mentally traumatized when someone tells me not to call them “ma’am”, I really don’t know how to handle it and momentarily implode. Etiquette is my crack. The simplest things are the most important, after all.
2. How to Make Your Own Fun. Mississippi is not NYC, and thank god, because if it was half of us wouldn’t have the interesting scars, bumps, and bruises that promise an interesting story. For example, my neighborhood gang of children and I would play Quidditch with Razr scooters on the patched up and cracked up Belhaven streets. The result? Two pairs of skinned knees and a lifetime of Post-Traumatic Scooter Disorder. So there’s nothing to do, and you have about three choices for fun: go eat some food with your friends, go shopping, or go exploring. I can’t tell you the amount of hours that slipped away (as well as gallons of gas - sorry Mom!) with me, my friends, my nasty maroon ’98 Nissan Sentra, and the endless roads. Windows down and a stop to Sonic, and then you cruise around and look for trouble. You just gotta make your own fun.
3. How to Party. It involves cheap beer, loud rock music, and usually a fire where you wouldn’t expect one. In high school this was rare but exhilarating, in college it’s common and usually involves the buzz kill that is the campus police (I SEE YOU UPD, YOU ARE NOT MY FRIEND. I SEE YOU TOO COBRA PARKING TICKET GIVERS, YA TURDS.) Behold the glory of the spring party: it involves mud, dressing up like a redneck (not at all hard for some of us to do), some sort of vacant field, more mud, more cheap beer, and really aggressive bus drivers who tote us to and fro. We’re quite good at it. It’s not really a party until someone breaks something or punches a hole in the drywall. And plus, I go to Ole Miss. That’s pretty much an example in itself on how to party.
4. How to Take A Punch. When I tell people from out-of-state that I’m from Mississippi, I might as well be painting a target on my heart. Here come the fat jokes, the slavery jokes, the Civil War jokes, the uneducated jokes, the shoe-less jokes, the farmer jokes, the inbred jokes, the racism jokes, the list goes on an on. I get so torn up about it I have to restrain myself from saying something cutting. Here’s how it works: I can make fun of Mississippi all I want, I grew up here, I know it in and out, I have earned that right. But the foreigners do not have that right. I love this quote from Kathryn Stockett in The Help: “Mississippi is like my mother. I am allowed to complain about her all I want, but God help the person who raises an ill word about her around me, unless she is their mother too.” I have to calmly argue back, but I never win: the preconceived notions are too strong. I take the punch, and just become more determined to be someone who helps delete the stereotypes.
5. Respect Your Heritage. You could also file this under ‘Tradition’. It’s important to remember where you came from. Personally, my family is Anglo-Norman-Irish, and all of my original American ancestors came South to farm land and make a profit. We are a society based on agrarian heritage, and therefore still keep agrarian values, such as respect for our wildlife and forests, as well as instinctual love of Mississippi’s natural beauty. I can’t imagine settling the Mississippi Territory in 1815, let alone raising a family and depending solely on myself for survival. Look, I’ve played Oregon Trail, I know how I would end up - I always died of starvation in the desert. Props to you, ancestors, for branching out on your own and looking for opportunity. I also respect my ancestors who fought for their freedom - Revolutionary, Confederate, World War I and II, Korean War, so on. They fought for what they believed in and to protect their rights and their families, and I must admire them for that.
6. The Arts. Mississippi produces musicians, photographers, artists, and writers by the bushel. Why? Because we need a way to express and deal with the everyday crazy that we come in contact with. We paint landscapes and cannonballs blowing up our backyards. We sing the blues because we feel sorrow and joy down to the core. We photograph extreme poverty and the beauty of a Georgian mansion in Natchez. And we write - we write and write and write about conflict, our insane families, the land, everyone around us, tragedy, comedy, and especially drama. Drama is everywhere. As a writer, I find no better place to be than Mississippi - I never run out of things to write about. I see an old white man snub a friendly black cashier, and I write about lingering racial intolerance. I watch as my friends and I go through relationships, and I write about the meaning of love. I write. He paints. She sings. We all record and produce what we feel so we don’t take ourselves out to the backyard and shoot ourselves.
7. Tolerance and Acceptance. Were you surprised to see this listed here? I’ve learned to coexist neutrally with those who don’t agree with my particular views and accept those who are different than I am. This was the greatest lesson my mother ever taught me. A friend is a friend, no matter their race, religion, creed, or sexuality. If God loves all of us just the way he made us, who am I to hate anyone? I often stray from this rule, as I am human and fallible. But I am determined to defend those that others would persecute.
8. Hardiness. So there’s a tornado. And a hurricane. And the river’s flooding. And gas prices are up, and milk is expensive, and everything is going to hell in a hand basket. Southerners are the closest thing to British people in America, and as the Brits like to say, we “Keep Calm And Carry On”. We won’t budge a muscle if faced by trying circumstances, we’ll just buck up and go about our day. Southerners do not make a habit of losing their cool over things they cannot control, they simply readjust to fit new circumstances. The only exception to this rule is winter weather. Because what in the world does one do when they are surrounded by the sordid frozen hell that has occurred this winter? I’m almost as south as you can go in the US, and I can’t even stand it. I briefly considered moving to San Juan, Puerto Rico, but changed my mind because that meant I would miss baseball season.
9.We’re the Best. Sorry everybody else who isn’t us, but we are better than you. We have more culture in our pinkie nail than y’all have in whatever state you came from. And we’re naturally more interesting. We never meet a stranger. The weather is better, the tea is divine, and who cares if I get fat from all the fried food, at least I will die FAT AND HAPPY. Women know how to take care of themselves and dress up, and men know how to be gentlemen. And we’re really, really ridiculously good looking. There’s nothing like Mississippi anywhere else, and though she and I may have our squabbles, I love her to death.