In 1964 at the age of 15, me, the three other kids & our parents piled into the family sedan & traveled from Boston to Florida. Our first night was spent in Union, New Jersey, & by noon the next day we stopped for lunch deep in Virginia. As we walked to the restaurant my mother saw a small white sign on the door that read, "WHITES ONLY." She gathered us about her like ducklings, turned us around & returned to the car.
This was my first "in your face" encounter with segregation & it felt uncomfortable.
The perception of the South as viewed from north of the Mason-Dixon Line is probably skewed a bit from what you might find from a vantage point to it's south, an understatement when you consider that the American Civil War pitted "Yankees" from the North against "Rebels" from the South.
Although the Line is not historically imaginary, it came to signify a contiguous border separating Slave States from so called Free States in this country from before The Revolution until Emancipation in 1862. The term "Yankee" was originally applied to settlers in New England, then northerners in general, & finally all Americans when viewed from abroad, at times affectionately & at other times with hostility. The Mason-Dixon Line now defines the region known as Dixie.
Growing up in New England during the 1950's & 60's, by the time I was an adolescent & teenager, I perceived the South as a hostile land. I knew, as a Yankee, that I was not welcomed there. This was my perception, wrong as it might have been. I also knew that Black folks lived apart from Whites in a segregated society.
Now, after living in the South for over 25 years, my perception has changed dramatically to say the least. I view the region south of the Mason-Dixon Line as open, honest & friendly. I must admit that I have met White folks, & have been friends with some, that need an attitude adjustment, particularly in race relations.
I do return to Yankeeland as often as I can, & just spent the first two weeks of this month in New England visiting with my siblings in Massachusetts, New Hampshire & Maine. The weather was grand & I had a wonderful time eating, drinking & sightseeing along the rocky Maine coast, Hampton Beach, New Hampshire & pool side in Georgetowm, Massachusetts!
So every couple of years or so, I say to myself, "Yankee go Home!" Unlike my feelings towards the South, I wax nostalgic when pondering my home land. In time my feelings for this adoptive country of mine will deepen, but the memories of my childhood have created a lasting bond elsewhere.
In the future when I hear the expression, "y'all come down now, ya hear?" my heart may heed the call. I will have arrived.
I must say, having grown up here in "The Deep South," I have had similar feelings about the North and "Yankees." I don't even know why. I guess because growing up in a Navy town, the young girls were always warned to "stay away from those sailors and Yankees." In most cases the terms were interchangeable. I assumed they must have horns or fangs or something. Ironically, I married a Yankee/Sailor and have been happily married for 43 years. So much for that warning given by all mothers of young girls in military towns.
ReplyDeleteI had an experience as a 15 year old that solidified my own beliefs as well. I was a waitress in a local restaurant where blacks were not permitted. The owner of the restaurant had a special menu with outrageous prices in case a black should be so brave as to come into their establishment. On night when I was working a group of young sailors came in the restaurant as usual only this time they had a black friend with them. I was frightened. I didn't know what to do. My upbringing told me that the policy of this restaurant was wrong, but it also taught me to respect authority figures. I tried to look busy and not notice them. The end of the story is that someone called the owner, he came in and got into a fight with the white sailors, the black man left earlier. I knew the whole thing was wrong. When I saw the humiliation on the face of the young black man as he left I knew then that I would never intentionally cause someone to feel that way again. That restaurant is still open in our community today. I see blacks and whites eating and laughing together in this local favorite. But, I still feel uncomfortable when I go in there and frankly rarely do go in. I remember seeing those signs that said "Whites Only" when I was a young child. Even then it made me feel uncomfortable and it didn't seem right. However, it was a part of our way of life and I had no control over it. I think most of the people of my generation felt the same way.
On the other hand when I moved with my husband to a large city up North the prejudices were there as well, but the feelings were much stronger. There was talk of killing and fighting between the blacks and whites. A neighbor's child ran all the way home from school because there was a race fight between blacks and whites at his school. I was afraid to drive through a certain neighborhood to get to the mall for fear of having a rock thrown through my windshield. Then there was the incident that caused me to know that I did not want to raise my child there. A black boy shot and killed a white boy. After that there were old ladies being beat up on the bus. A black bar was burned down, and the "Hells Angels" tried to get "up on the hill" to take revenge for the original killing. I was afraid to let my child play outside. No that was not a lifestyle I want to live. I couldn't change it so I came back to my lifestyle. A lifestyle that is checkered with a history of prejudice and violence, but nothing like the things I experienced up North exist today in our peaceful small Southern community.
That being said, I too enjoy going to my husband's home. It is a lovely city that provides many cultural and ethnic experiences. My experience this summer in the New England states has been a dream vacation that I will never forget. Unfortunately I only had three negative encounters with people and sadly, each time it was with someone from New Hampshire. I was beginning to worry until we met a lovely family from New Hampshire on our Whale Watching cruise. I also remembered my dear friends who are transplants in our town. My dear friends who remind me that we cannot judge people by where they are from but by who they are within. I must say thank you to all the wonderful people,in the North and South, who we met on our 5.000 mile journey. The next time you say to yourself "Yankee Go Home" will you bring me some Maine Lobster?