By: Jennifer Richardson Holt
It was two different plants that are apparently in the same family that got me thinking about today’s topic. First off, the massive showy blossoms of a confederate rose caught my eye as they cannot help but do. When you see a giant ball of white ruffled petals first thing in the morning only to observe that same blossom an intense pink later in the day it is most assuredly an attention getter. I learned just a few years back that this plant is in the same family as the cotton plant. Cotton too has blooms that morph from white to pink as the day progresses. I drive by multiple fields of it very regularly. These fields are almost to the point of their production that is prime for the quintessential family cotton field portraits since that is a thing that people, myself included, really like to do. But in thinking of color changing petals and clouds attached to stems, really could these two be any more southern? I mean cotton (obviously) and then something called a confederate rose may as well greet you with a drawling “hey y’all” when you rustle their leaves. It was these two botanical specimens that got me thinking about what it means to be southern. I considered what those not of southern backgrounds THINK it means and what it means to me and those around me who are actually living the southern experience. Are we really just a country song come to life or is there some depth to be discovered?
Speaking of country music, there are a few safe bets that you could probably make when looking at the South and holding it up against a steel guitar laced ballad. We are most assuredly a people of storytellers and like any truly classic and quality country song, we do love to spin a yarn. We are a land that loves front porches and I daresay that a great deal of that is due to our having roughly eight months of summer, or at least summer-esque, weather, lending itself to outside lounging in rocking chairs and swings hearing legend, memoir, comedy or drama. When I see an old house with an inviting front porch, my first trip into the imagination of its history is the stories it has told and heard. It is almost as if the tales have seeped into the wood floor and the (if it is an achingly traditional southern home) haint blue ceiling. I suppose in this respect we are a bit of a country song, but if that isn’t your cup of proverbial tea, just imagine the favorite story someone dear to you ever told you and you get it. We really adore that and take to it vigorously here.
And I see yet another segue has presented itself here. Speaking of things we take passionately to down here, which as I type I realize something we look upon fondly we call something we “cotton to” which is just writing this blog for me…but I digress. There are some things we are very, VERY ardent about and I don’t know that I can add enough emphasis to this. I will try to address the ones that are the most universally held. We are passionate about our food. I have addressed this before but it is far beyond simply the delicacies that we produce and/or enjoy. We are intense when it comes to the recipes we adhere to. Doing things the way great-granny so-and-so did them are very near and dear to us. Family recipes are held very close to scripture levels of seriousness. Secret ingredients are not merely mentions to add intrigue to a dish, we will guard them with our lives. We are even divided amongst ourselves about which BBQ is the real/best; I can think of at least 5 different types right now. I think it all boils down to us being feeders. We are as hospitable as the rumors you have heard if you aren’t from here and if you are from here or have visited you are nodding your head. We are pleased to bring any stranger into the family as long as they like to eat. Welcome in the south is spelled f-o-o-d. These four letters are also how we spell comfort, affection and sympathy. It’s a good thing, as long as you aren’t watching your weight.
In partaking of the aforementioned classic southern hospitality, possibly having some fried chicken or a piece of pecan pie, tread lightly on some topics that also merit vehement reactions. Our sports are far too close to religion here. No, that isn’t good and we’re working on it. Some of us are anyway. If we can make an avid following of people driving aggressively in a circle for hours at a time then do not underestimate our fervor when it comes to sport. And for the love of pickled peaches, if you don’t know what team to laud or revile in any given setting, by all means do not even make an attempt. Blood feuds have been started over less.
Something else we’re known for here is a bit of a small town mentality. We do have small towns in plentiful number, but the associated attributes aren’t the closed-mindedness that many may think. The benefits of our seemingly endless quaint hamlets are many. We are willing to form closer bonds with our neighbors and really any random townsfolk. And of course, once we’ve shared meals with said people, then we are basically family already and we care for each other accordingly. Yes, we do describe increments of distance by the minutes it will take or by local landmark. There is a distinct possibility that you could be instructed to turn at a specific barn or to go until you see a home where a certain fellow who had that exceptionally friendly dog lived once upon a time. I suppose this all serves to reflect that we intimately and affectionately know our towns and the inhabitants thereof regardless of species.
There are a myriad of tidbits of southernism that I could address here. I don’t have the space left nor do you likely have the inclination to learn of ladies that adore monograms and farmhouse chic décor nor men who often enjoy a large truck or jeep and possibly a good hunting hound. None of our generalities apply to everyone but even if it seems quite a farfetched stereotype I daresay it’s based in a truth somewhere that would raise an eyebrow or two. I do feel however, that I can safely make a few sweeping statements and I shall not over step my bounds. We do everything with passion. We may speak slowly but our language is colorful. We love with zeal, be it family, food, football or faith and sometimes a few of those categories in amounts that teeter on the edge of inappropriate. While we are a distinct and unique group in this nation probably one of our greatest qualities is that we welcome and we embrace. The best thing about being southern is the fact that we are more than happy to swallow you up in it, filling your belly with joy and your heart with the warm feeling of a new family and home.
Prose and Possibilities 