So i saw this topic on “The Daily Prompt”
link to the post below and have been trying to devise a way to best describe why i called my blog “The Southern Yankee”. The truth of the matter is that I don’t have a cleaver answer or description about my blog title.
In the literal sense I am indeed a Southern Yankee. I was born in a Yankee state
by Civil War standards and raised in a Southern state. In the metaphorical sense, I strongly believe my personality and outlook on life is definitely a mixture of the two. There really isn’t anything about me that defines me as solely a Yankee or solely a Southerner. I honestly believe that being a Southern Yankee is more of a way of life. An understanding of these two almost vastly different mind sets.
For example, a true Southerner is hospitable, compassionate, genuine and family oriented. Most Southerners will greet you at least with a smile or a hello no matter who you are and where you’re from. I remember getting my first taste of Southern hospitality as a student at Baylor. People would smile and acknowledge your presence even though they had no clue who you were.
To me being a Southerner is about treating everyone the same no matter who you are or where you come from. Don’t get me wrong depending on the person or group there are some flaws and definite exceptions to this statement. I am grown enough to know that even though I have a degree from a Southern Baptist university and work for a huge television conglomerate, I’m still just a black girl. I’m okay with that because I know who I am and no one’s opinion of me is going to change that which is why I try to treat everyone the same.
On the other hand, the Yankee in me is a bit harsh, fearless and mean. I feel like in one of my past lives I was a native New Yorker from the Bronx with a thick New York accent. Of course I could have been from Bahston. Lawd know those mutha fuckas are more rude than an angry black woman on her period.
The Yankee in me is also very much a city slicker. I want no part of the country especially if it means being away from anything remotely related to civilized living. I love the lights of the city. I love the hustle and bustle. I love being minutes from a grocery store, Target or Starbucks. I think the closest I would ever want to get the country is suburbia. Of course, this also could be because I grew up in a small Podunk town where my neighbor lived several miles down the road in either direction.
While “The Southern Yankee” is everything mentioned in the previous paragraphs, metaphorically speaking, it is so much more. The Southern Yankee is about the emotional high tide of emotions I’ve had over the years. It’s about growing up but not chronologically. It is an examination of life was and the possibility of how t could be. She’s the step before reaching Lady Deathstrike
that evil bitch even though neither should be addressed without a bottle of Southern Comfort and/or Señor Patron. It’s a story of life and love mixed with random soapbox rants coupled with bouts of purely crackish coffee induced of course idioms and behaviors. There will also be dancing, drinking red solo cup anyone and uncontrollable crying.
Thanks for reading…
The Southern Yankee