I flew back to Tennessee earlier this week to spend time with my family. My parents aren’t around — with my father imprisoned and my mother passing away in 2011, my brother and I meet at our maternal Grandmother’s for the holiday.
We have embodied two different stereotypes. My brother, now living in North Carolina, plays bluegrass with his band on the weekends and goes home to his wife and children. He never let go of his accent and grew both a beard and an appreciation for small-town life.
Aside from his twin two-year-olds, it seems quiet. An embodiment of Southern and Appalachian culture.
I have gone in the other direction. On paper, I am a childless plant lady living with her boyfriend in San Francisco. With a Southern accent nowhere in hearing distance, my only ties to my culture lie in my camouflage jacket and University of Tennessee (my alma mater) clothing.
Growing up hating Southern culture was, in some ways, an act of rebellion, but today, I long for it.
If I’m being generous, I’d say that my Southern hospitality (re: manners) and chatty disposition toward strangers is my true tell.
During an interview with a comedian who also grew up around East Tennessee, he asked me if I could recall the moment I decided to distance myself from my accent.
And I do.
I told him about my 11th-grade Spanish class when I was in a room full of fellow Southerners trying to speak a new language — while maintaining their twang.
If you haven’t heard a redneck try to speak Spanish, it’s either highly entertaining or very, very confusing.
That was the moment for me, but if I dig a little deeper, I know that the idea of hating my Southern roots came much sooner.
I’ve always wanted to be a journalist. In elementary school, I created mix tapes on my boombox and recorded my own radio cut-ins. In the 5th grade, I got in trouble for making ‘zines that featured Britney Spears and Madonna kissing. I later wrote features and columns in my high school and local newspapers.
But my teachers told me that if I wanted to be a reporter on television — I had to lose my accent.
Southern accents have a negative connotation in American media, they said. What they really meant was — Southern accents are perceived as stupid. Who would trust a hillbilly journalist?
Film and TV shows did a good job of making that stereotype come to life, but the history behind why Southerners were (and still are) perceived that way is also important.
This isn’t my time to dive into history.
Rather, it’s a time of mourning and appreciation. I envy my brother in ways for holding onto a piece of our childhood, our roots.
Growing up hating Southern culture was, in some ways, an act of rebellion, but today, I long for it.
Like those Hallmark films where the protagonist realizes they actually did love the quaint pine cone farmer all along.
I run back home, preferably visualized in slow motion, into the arms of a Southern embrace.
As I type — the smell of bacon has slowly crept down the hallway. I’m dreaming of biscuits and gravy. Of small talk that turns into oversharing with strangers in line at the grocery store. We look each other in the eyes as we speak and say thank you to the person ringing up our orders.
Y’all softly flows back into my vocabulary like it never left.
I called the prison visitation line to potentially see my father this holiday, with the woman on the other end referring to me as “Miss Ali.”
A kindness I miss in city life. A kindness she chose to give to me, knowing the emotional stress that comes with a phone call such as that.
As more people relocate to East and Middle Tennessee, I hope that the culture remains true and doesn’t succumb to the pressure of mainstream culture. I hope it grows to welcome other viewpoints and doesn’t break as people inevitably challenge it. I hope we bend and adjust but remain.
Because Southern culture is rooted in a sense of resilience and support — of hospitality and empathy.
I fell in love with my culture again. I hope people coming to the South seeking reprieve from high costs and other things find love, not a distaste, for it as well.
Southern accents deserve rebranding, not erasure.