When a Southern Woman Rambles... by L. Avery Brown (nice books to read TXT) 📕

I was once asked two questions that on the surface seemed rather simple and straight forward. They were: What makes a Southerner a Southerner? And for that matter exactly where is the South?

I knew the gentleman asking- a nouveau Suthron - was expecting a cut and dry geographic response. But when it comes to defining an entire region and the people in that region, there is never anything that is 'cut and dry' so I looked at him and said, “Dear Lord, do you really want an answer?”

*Now as an aside, the invoking of anecdotal precursory phrases such as 'Dear Lord', 'Heavens', or ‘Good Lord Almighty’ is quite common among women who view themselves as Southern whether they were born and raised in the South or feel as though they have become Southern via some kind of geographic osmosis.*

And my friend replied, “Yes, of course.”

Now I am no expert on the subject nor do I claim to be; however, I was born and raised in the South so I decided I would give it a well-intentioned shot. The following is a fairly decent summation of what I told my friend...

“I suppose I could be technical and say that what is considered by most Americans to be 'the South' is (alphabetically speaking): Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maryland, Mississippi, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Virginia and West Virginia. Oklahoma squeaks in, too, but the upper part tends to get grouped with the Midwest. 

And trying to say ‘the South is here’ or ‘it is there’ is like trying to catch smoke in your hand. If I'm being quite frank, the South cannot be defined using something as static as longitude and latitude because being in the South is as much a state of mind felt by people who live below the Mason-Dixon Line as it is a place.

‘The South’ I grew up in is anywhere that 'yes, ma'am' and 'no, sir' are used without question. It’s a place where real men open doors for ANY woman, regardless of age, color, or religious background. (Sure, there are still people here who are stuck in the preCivil Rights era where the definition of civility was more than a bit skewed - but please don't let a few rotten peaches spoil the whole bushel!)

‘The South’ is where any woman who is old enough to run a Sunday school class is called 'Miss' regardless if she is, was, or everhas been married. It’s also where you can find out about all the things going on in a town simply by reading church bulletins as they list everything from birth announcements to prayer requests to reminders about upcoming ice cream socials. And in the South, church members are not just parishioners; they are 'brother' and 'sister'.

As for churches, they can be found on just about every corner in the heart of any little town. Lutherans, Methodists, and Baptists, oh my! Why, I can almost guarantee that every Sunday the parking lots of those churches, as well as the parking areas of all the other religious denominations, are overflowing with good Christian families wishing to be filled with the Holy Spirit in the allotted 45 minute morning worship time frame.  

Of course, being that the modern South is filled with millions of foward thinking men and women - it is a place where all sorts of religious beliefs are not simply 'tolerated' but 'welcomed'. As my father used to tell me when I was a child, a wise man of religion is the one who sees nuggets of wisdom in all the faiths of the world. His words are probably some of the wisest words I think I've ever pondered. 

One major element of the Southern lifestyle is without a doubt... the Southern preacher. Yes, preaching can be a dauntining task for those who are the most faithful servants of the Good Lord. Because not only must they reach out using the Word of God to all the Glorious Shepherd's pious children on a weekly basis they must also be wary of a demon over which they have no control. And that demon is... the clock on the back wall. 

Because the good reverends know that as the noon hour draws clower, the ability of their flock to receive the Word of God becomes overshadowed by their desire to eat lunch. Now I can speak from experience as I've attended many different denominations within thr Christian faith and I can say, it is a rare thing indeed for an established minister to go over the unspoken 10 minute grace period that starts shortly after both hands on the clock are praying straight up to the Lord, Himself.

But when it does happen... it’s never a pretty site.

I can only imagine the frustration a minister feels when he looks out and sees his parishioners getting antsy and hears their heavy sighs as well as the agitated rustling of those informative church bulletins when the minute hand sweeps past high noon. And with each tick of the clock, their restlessness grows so great that if a quick summation is not forthcoming...everything said prior to the benediction will have all been for naught. And the pastors who’ve been around for a while know tat the most effective sermons -- the ones that really drive home the message -- are short, sweet, and to the point.

And speaking of driving... no Southern minister in their right mind ever, and I do mean NEVER EVER, plan a ‘knock out sermon’ for the following dates: Memorial Day, Labor Day or the Sunday closest to the 4th of July and not just because they are 3-day weekends.

Heavens, no! Those are prime NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) weekends and no one... not even the Big Guy in the Sky can come between a devoted NASCAR fan and an important race event.

I say no one because NASCAR is practically a religion in and of itself. (I, however, do not follow any of the tenets of the NASCAR faith)

Luckily, most NASCAR religious events are held on the weekends after the weekly 'gathering at a house of worship' meeting but there are some races that require special sacraments prior to the actual event. (In the world of non-NASCAR aficionados it’s tailgating - even if it’s done from the comfort of a person’s living room).

Of course, the gurus of NASCAR would have quite a challenge on their hands if they dared to schedule any races on a Wednesday because as a general rule of thumb, on any given Wednesday evening, all the good Christians can be found  at their preferred ecclesiastical establishment for Bible study and/or youth group. Yes, you'd be hard pressed to find a small town in the South where ANY event (school play, sport, town council meeting, etc.) is scheduled on a Wednesday evening.

Unless it's a week-long tent revival held outside beneath a thin canopy set out in the blistering sun among the gnats and other no see-ums. Ah, yes, those good old fashioned summer time revivals... we really do still have those down South and they are always in the hottest part of the season, too.

Call me silly, but I've always believed a tent revival is held in the summer specifically to coincide with all the Hellfire and damnation sermons that are given because the ambient heat must surely help to get the message through. And I swanny-Johnny*, those sermons are the ones no one would dare consider complaining about if it took longer than the typical 30-minute 'you'll to go Hell if you don't follow this path' sermon.  (Swannying-Johnny is a polite way to say 'I swear to God' only saying 'I swear to God' is swearing which is bad - oh, gracious, I think I'm bound for Hell) 

Why, to glance at your watch might very well bring down a shower of fire and brimstone right onto your lap. And with all that evangelical hair in such close quarters you definitely don’t want anything flammable nearby because you might set the place ablaze! (Confused? Just imagine a hair-helmet atop a reverend's head. A coif like that needs a lot of hairspray to keep it in place which is highly flammable!) 

But enough of Southern religion because I have no doubt that I could write a ten volume set on the topic and still not do it justice! Besides, I’d much rather move on and discuss the personal side of the South... the Southern mindset.

To be a true Southerner... you have to be born here. If you weren't born here, the real ones will always eye you with a bit of suspicion. Which is why it's important to temember down South a woman can say more in an instant with her smile than could ever be uttered; and, an entire conversation can be spoken by a man with a simple nod of his head. Oh, you’ll be welcomed... after all, hospitality is a Southern trademark but don’t expect to be immediately accepted especially if you don’t sound like one of us.

Because the voice is such an important part of who you are down here. Many is the time I’ve heard people laugh as they talk about how Southerners speak with over exaggerated diphthongs (gliding together vowels like in the words you + all = y'all).  Or they clip endings to words (so that the word doing becomes duin).  And sometimes Southerners will create wholly new words (ex. what are = whuter). Put it all together and you get  ‘What are you all doing?’ which becomes ‘Whuter ya’ll duin?’ in my neck of the woods. 

However, it must be noted that there isn’t really a singular Southern accent rather it’s an amalgamation of all the various dialects heard throughout the region. A person raised in Louisiana sounds completely different than someone raised in Virginia. And to hear a person from Murphy, NC, the farthest point to the west in the state read the Gettysburg Address aloud and then to hear that same speech read by someone from Manteo, the farthest point east in NC is like night and day even though there are only about 500 miles separating them.

Though sadly it seems the thicker the ‘accent’... the more stupid a person is considered, which is really a shame, because it isn't at all true. But words do speak volumes and if you don't know all the fancy 'educated' terms or you blend a few too many vowels or you clip an abundance of those words you might as well be planting watermelon seeds.

To be quite honest if one were to analyze the vocal patterns of someone raised in the South regardless of where in the South in may be, one would find that the Southern speech pattern is really quite melodic with a soft flowing relaxed sort of lilt. Maybe it’s that way because people in the South follow the patientia est virtus credo when it comes to life. After all there is no need to zip through our lives or our words as if time is always running short. 

Of course, life in the South is not all mint juleps, magnolias, and Krispy Kreme Donuts. (And if you don't know what Krispy Kreme Donuts are, I'm teribly sorry! Because they are probably the sweetest, most fattening donuts in the entire world. Lordy, when they are served warm, it’s like biting into a little bit of Heaven.) There are problems here just as there are problems anywhere. But unlike all those other places where life whizzes past so quickly it’s hard to catch your breath, down South we know how to stop and see the forest for the trees.

Yes, this is the home of moonshine, shotguns, and pig-pickins'. But it's also the land of debutante balls, cotillions, and military academies. And we're not stupid. Not by a long shot.

Many Presidents hail from the South; George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, James Monroe, Dwight D. Eisenhower, and Lyndon Baines Johnson just to name a few. And there are also a few other smart and famous Southern individuals like: Edward R. Murrow, William Sydney Porter (better known as O. Henry),