Southern Evolution
Many relatives would disown me for using the term evolution, thats blasphemy. Thankfully, those relatives have not mastered the inter-tubes and will never see this web blog.
I live in a place that time forgot; or chances are time chose to sneak away from. I still live in the world where women wake up early and cook breakfast for their families, and serve the men and children first. If there is any food left, we women, will stand in the kitchen and eat a little as we clean up and do the dishes. Unfortunately, we also work outside of the home and many of us hold college degrees (which were not obtained online). Lest I progress, now where was I?
On holidays and random weekends, we gather families together to sit on the back deck of a double-wide and rave about how good the above ground pool feels on our blistered skin. We keep our beverages in floatation devices, while in the river and in the pool, and have usually rigged a leash to our tube so that our beer does not wander. During these glorious times, the men folk cook the meat while the women brown those last 10-20lbs we are unsuccessfully hiding under our Wal-Mart two-piece (that was on sale!).
Some times are dressier, thats when we women dress in our conservative best and my Aunt wears her church fall. For those of you not familiar with a fall, it is similar to a weave, but attached via hair clip to a very sad pony stub to create the illusion of a sudden glorious fall of taffy colored, perfectly ringlet-ed hair. That is the idea. However, my aunts church fall was at its most glorious in the early eighties and now resembles an angry squirrels tail. No one will tell her this for it would be impolite and may embarrass her. So she sashays proudly with a rabid squirrel attacking the back of her head. At least she still has the self pride to discuss the outfit worn by the hussie at church earlier that day who is trying to catch her a good man, bless her heart.
I would like to say that this hair-clip vanity is only present among the women; but I cant. Several, holidays have been presenced by a toupee or two. For example, Grandpa has worn a hairpiece for 30 years and only Grandma has seen him without it. We like it this way and have accepted it. While Uncle Don is mainly bald on the top 50% of his head. During my 14 years in this family, several holidays passed that we were not graced with the smooth, shiny top of Uncle Dons scalp; these were the gatherings when he decided to borrow Grandpas old toupee. The thought of him wearing his father-in-laws hairpiece did not disturb me at all. What was most disturbing was that, while it matched Grandpas hair to a T, it shared none of the characteristics of Uncle Dons. More troubling is, like Aunt Teresas fall, that no one says anything. In the realm of the South, it is perfectly natural for hair to appear and disappear on any given religious holiday- the true Christmas miracle.
I have had my own southern evolution. At 17, I became pregnant by a married man. Before my first trimester had passed, I was forced to marry this married (but separated) man and leave my home for his; before my mothers friends found out that I was a whore. His other wife lived in another state so there was no indication of her at the courthouse where we paid $35 and got hitched. He had no car and even less credit, so we rented a 30 year old single-wide trailer for $650/mo. I skipped school most days to nap, until I was told that I was providing a bad example to other girls and was told to drop out (6wks prior to graduation) by the guidance counselor.
I gave birth to my daughter on what was originally my graduation night, so in my scrapbook there is my graduation announcement and her birth announcement with matching dates and a 2 hour time difference. We brought her home to a new single-wide trailer, financed with my fathers credit and down payment. Within two years, we had another daughter and moved into a double-wide before eventually moving into our first immobile home. As living arrangements improved, so did I. I received my GED and a B.S. in Psychology. I ran my own aerospace parts company (into the ground) and attempted a Masters degree before student loans forced me to work more and study less.
After all of this evolvement, I am still a southern woman. I dont smoke, drink, or cuss in front of my elders; I wear my best conservative dress on religious holidays. I stay in the kitchen, where I belong, cooking and serving others before myself. I dont involve myself in conversations with the menfolk, unless Im asked for my opinion.
Being a southern lady, has held me back in many ways. Many of these traits I choose to not pass on to my daughters. I want them to run where their whimsy leads them and to not feel pressured by societal roles. However, I do want them to remember to serve others first and to keep their mouths shut if their opinion may harm an others opinion of themselves. And I also want them to remember to tether their beer to their inner-tube; there is nothing as sad as a Natty Light floating down river half-full.
Many relatives would disown me for using the term evolution, thats blasphemy. Thankfully, those relatives have not mastered the inter-tubes and will never see this web blog.
I live in a place that time forgot; or chances are time chose to sneak away from. I still live in the world where women wake up early and cook breakfast for their families, and serve the men and children first. If there is any food left, we women, will stand in the kitchen and eat a little as we clean up and do the dishes. Unfortunately, we also work outside of the home and many of us hold college degrees (which were not obtained online). Lest I progress, now where was I?
On holidays and random weekends, we gather families together to sit on the back deck of a double-wide and rave about how good the above ground pool feels on our blistered skin. We keep our beverages in floatation devices, while in the river and in the pool, and have usually rigged a leash to our tube so that our beer does not wander. During these glorious times, the men folk cook the meat while the women brown those last 10-20lbs we are unsuccessfully hiding under our Wal-Mart two-piece (that was on sale!).
Some times are dressier, thats when we women dress in our conservative best and my Aunt wears her church fall. For those of you not familiar with a fall, it is similar to a weave, but attached via hair clip to a very sad pony stub to create the illusion of a sudden glorious fall of taffy colored, perfectly ringlet-ed hair. That is the idea. However, my aunts church fall was at its most glorious in the early eighties and now resembles an angry squirrels tail. No one will tell her this for it would be impolite and may embarrass her. So she sashays proudly with a rabid squirrel attacking the back of her head. At least she still has the self pride to discuss the outfit worn by the hussie at church earlier that day who is trying to catch her a good man, bless her heart.
I would like to say that this hair-clip vanity is only present among the women; but I cant. Several, holidays have been presenced by a toupee or two. For example, Grandpa has worn a hairpiece for 30 years and only Grandma has seen him without it. We like it this way and have accepted it. While Uncle Don is mainly bald on the top 50% of his head. During my 14 years in this family, several holidays passed that we were not graced with the smooth, shiny top of Uncle Dons scalp; these were the gatherings when he decided to borrow Grandpas old toupee. The thought of him wearing his father-in-laws hairpiece did not disturb me at all. What was most disturbing was that, while it matched Grandpas hair to a T, it shared none of the characteristics of Uncle Dons. More troubling is, like Aunt Teresas fall, that no one says anything. In the realm of the South, it is perfectly natural for hair to appear and disappear on any given religious holiday- the true Christmas miracle.
I have had my own southern evolution. At 17, I became pregnant by a married man. Before my first trimester had passed, I was forced to marry this married (but separated) man and leave my home for his; before my mothers friends found out that I was a whore. His other wife lived in another state so there was no indication of her at the courthouse where we paid $35 and got hitched. He had no car and even less credit, so we rented a 30 year old single-wide trailer for $650/mo. I skipped school most days to nap, until I was told that I was providing a bad example to other girls and was told to drop out (6wks prior to graduation) by the guidance counselor.
I gave birth to my daughter on what was originally my graduation night, so in my scrapbook there is my graduation announcement and her birth announcement with matching dates and a 2 hour time difference. We brought her home to a new single-wide trailer, financed with my fathers credit and down payment. Within two years, we had another daughter and moved into a double-wide before eventually moving into our first immobile home. As living arrangements improved, so did I. I received my GED and a B.S. in Psychology. I ran my own aerospace parts company (into the ground) and attempted a Masters degree before student loans forced me to work more and study less.
After all of this evolvement, I am still a southern woman. I dont smoke, drink, or cuss in front of my elders; I wear my best conservative dress on religious holidays. I stay in the kitchen, where I belong, cooking and serving others before myself. I dont involve myself in conversations with the menfolk, unless Im asked for my opinion.
Being a southern lady, has held me back in many ways. Many of these traits I choose to not pass on to my daughters. I want them to run where their whimsy leads them and to not feel pressured by societal roles. However, I do want them to remember to serve others first and to keep their mouths shut if their opinion may harm an others opinion of themselves. And I also want them to remember to tether their beer to their inner-tube; there is nothing as sad as a Natty Light floating down river half-full.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
stanleigh:
I'm working on an actual photoset this weekend. There are no photographers in my area so I'm DIY-ing it. Thank you for enduring the "Myspace face" in the meantime.
clockworkjim:
Even though we live in the same country, the culture you describe seems more foreign to me then my Ecuadorian relatives(by marriage). It still completely amazes, and at time troubles, me just how varied and/or isolated America can be. I think Neil Gaiman had it right when he said america is more then one country.