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.
Showing posts with label Southern. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Southern. Show all posts
Friday, July 23, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Prayer
The battle is still being fought. Known as the Bible Belt, the South is enveloped in a dogmatic atmosphere that hangs in the air like the humidity. Just yesterday, a friend said to me, "Religion takes otherwise independent, free spirited people & corrupts their being for power & control." Nothing new here. He added that organized, denominational religion is as Karl Marx coined, "The opium of the masses."
A delicate subject this, in any venue. The catalyst for our moment on the topic was just a common bumper sticker seen frequently in the Pensacola, Florida area that reads, "Pray for our schools, we are one nation under God." Prayer in public schools? In this country? Don't First Amendment guarantees protect us? The fight continues.
My good friend is a son of the South. He kids me about my Yankee heritage. Born & raised in New England, I'm a damn Yankee. The difference between a Yankee in the South & a damn Yankee is that a damn Yankee never went home. I own the moniker.
As a teenager learning about Darwin, evolution, the Scopes Monkey Trial & basic civil rights & liberties, I took it for granted that the issue of prayer in school was put to rest. Never once was a prayer uttered - the Pledge of Allegiance yes, prayer no. Not so in the South.
Recently in Pace, Florida, a small town just east of Pensacola, the principal of the Pace High School was under fire for supporting students who wanted to pray openly at school events. Not a moment of silence, not an inter-faith "blessing." Make no mistake about it, I'm talking about Christian prayer, damn me if I'm wrong.
Please don't get me wrong, either. My friend is involved with his family in church activities and scouting. For him, the social milieu provides an important link to the community, and even, perhaps, a bit of "spiritual" guidance. I, too, feel that churches are important this way.
Y'all should know that I was baptized as an infant in the Episcopal Church & raised in a traditional, Yankee conservative, republican home. Although I consider myself liberal minded, I am a firm supporter of States rights & individual freedoms. Community solidarity is important as long as it does not violate the spirit of the law, if not it's letter.
In 2009 the Pace High School principal and former school superintendent were named in an ACLU lawsuit on behalf of two students, & ordered to stop prayer. In August of that year the principal and athletic director faced criminal contempt charges for continuing prayer during school functions.
Also that year a bill was introduced in the State Legislature:
"The bill would prohibit school districts in the future from entering into an agreement "that infringes or waives the rights or freedoms afforded to instructional personnel, school staff, or students by the First Amendment to the United States Constitution.""-PNJ
In April, 2010 the Florida Senate OK'd the bill:
"With blistering criticism for civil libertarians and some harsh words about the "overreaching" religious climate in Northwest Florida schools, a Senate panel today overwhelmingly approved a watered-down school prayer bill."-PNJ
June, 2010 brought school graduations across the land. Reginald Dogan, editorial staff, Pensacola News Journal opined in his column titled, "God Don't Like Ugly":
"It’s too late for the class of 2010, but maybe Pace High School will listen now to reason and move its graduation to a safe, dry place away from the threat of the storms of nature, called an "act of God."
It's worthy of consideration. Maybe they ought to pray about it. But for God’s sake and the law of the court, do it at home, in a church or in a closet."-PNJ
And the fight goes on. I don't need to point out what my sister said to me this month, "Religion is the stuff of wars." Is that not what's happening in the world today? And leading the charge is the United States of America.
God bless us, & I do mean that seriously, for there is a power that penetrates every molecule, every atom of our being, every scrap of matter throughout the Universe, binding us together from the instant of the Big Bang(creation) until we get sucked into a Black Hole(eternity).
I am saved as we and all things are. We live together, it would be nice if we could really live together, "Give peace a chance."-J.L.
A delicate subject this, in any venue. The catalyst for our moment on the topic was just a common bumper sticker seen frequently in the Pensacola, Florida area that reads, "Pray for our schools, we are one nation under God." Prayer in public schools? In this country? Don't First Amendment guarantees protect us? The fight continues.
My good friend is a son of the South. He kids me about my Yankee heritage. Born & raised in New England, I'm a damn Yankee. The difference between a Yankee in the South & a damn Yankee is that a damn Yankee never went home. I own the moniker.
As a teenager learning about Darwin, evolution, the Scopes Monkey Trial & basic civil rights & liberties, I took it for granted that the issue of prayer in school was put to rest. Never once was a prayer uttered - the Pledge of Allegiance yes, prayer no. Not so in the South.
Recently in Pace, Florida, a small town just east of Pensacola, the principal of the Pace High School was under fire for supporting students who wanted to pray openly at school events. Not a moment of silence, not an inter-faith "blessing." Make no mistake about it, I'm talking about Christian prayer, damn me if I'm wrong.
Please don't get me wrong, either. My friend is involved with his family in church activities and scouting. For him, the social milieu provides an important link to the community, and even, perhaps, a bit of "spiritual" guidance. I, too, feel that churches are important this way.
Y'all should know that I was baptized as an infant in the Episcopal Church & raised in a traditional, Yankee conservative, republican home. Although I consider myself liberal minded, I am a firm supporter of States rights & individual freedoms. Community solidarity is important as long as it does not violate the spirit of the law, if not it's letter.
In 2009 the Pace High School principal and former school superintendent were named in an ACLU lawsuit on behalf of two students, & ordered to stop prayer. In August of that year the principal and athletic director faced criminal contempt charges for continuing prayer during school functions.
Also that year a bill was introduced in the State Legislature:
"The bill would prohibit school districts in the future from entering into an agreement "that infringes or waives the rights or freedoms afforded to instructional personnel, school staff, or students by the First Amendment to the United States Constitution.""-PNJ
In April, 2010 the Florida Senate OK'd the bill:
"With blistering criticism for civil libertarians and some harsh words about the "overreaching" religious climate in Northwest Florida schools, a Senate panel today overwhelmingly approved a watered-down school prayer bill."-PNJ
June, 2010 brought school graduations across the land. Reginald Dogan, editorial staff, Pensacola News Journal opined in his column titled, "God Don't Like Ugly":
"It’s too late for the class of 2010, but maybe Pace High School will listen now to reason and move its graduation to a safe, dry place away from the threat of the storms of nature, called an "act of God."
It's worthy of consideration. Maybe they ought to pray about it. But for God’s sake and the law of the court, do it at home, in a church or in a closet."-PNJ
And the fight goes on. I don't need to point out what my sister said to me this month, "Religion is the stuff of wars." Is that not what's happening in the world today? And leading the charge is the United States of America.
God bless us, & I do mean that seriously, for there is a power that penetrates every molecule, every atom of our being, every scrap of matter throughout the Universe, binding us together from the instant of the Big Bang(creation) until we get sucked into a Black Hole(eternity).
I am saved as we and all things are. We live together, it would be nice if we could really live together, "Give peace a chance."-J.L.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Song of the South
As you approach Mulate's in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana you will hear zydeco music drift across the parking lot. As you pass into the restaurant the smell of steaming crawfish will greet your nose. Your eyes will watch while pounds of the succulent crustacean are piled in the center of the table on a paper bag. Feel the warmth with your fingers when you break the tail off & taste the spicy yet mild sweetness of this Cajun favorite. Breaux Bridge, east of Lafayette, is the crawfish capitol!
The song of the South impinges on all the senses. I've had the privilege & pleasure to travel throughout the Deep South, from Myrtle Beach, S.C. to Macon, GA, Tuscaloosa, AL, Yazoo City, MS, Alexandria, LA, Port Arthur, TX, places in between & back home to Pensacola, Florida. The notes of the song change as do the seasons, location & people, but the pervasive melody is as constant as a compass needle.
Indianola, Mississippi is to catfish as Breaux Bridge is to crawfish. Here the ponds are plentiful & the processing plants huge. Farm raised catfish is a staple of the South along with sweet tea.
In my travels from New Orleans to Morgan City, Louisiana, I would see folks fishing in the bayous & swamp lands, some with long cane poles, their bobbers laying still on the placid water in anticipation of a bite. The flesh of wild caught catfish, like many fresh water fish, tastes like the environs from which it came. There is a difference between seafood & what I call swamp food. Catfish & crawfish(never crawdads, sometimes "mud bugs") are in this category, along with alligators if eaten.
Pecan groves are plentiful in the South. Some groves are irrigated, others not. In dry years the trees benefit from the extra water. The nut heavy limbs bow under the weight & the yields are good. Last to leaf out in the spring & first to shed in the fall, the pecan is a bellwether for season's change in the South.
The piney woods of Northwest Florida & an abundance of Naval Live Oak trees, gave way to the building of wooden ships. The oak's gnarly limbs were perfect for framing a vessel, while the tall, straight long leaf pine was ideal for masts & spars. Thirty miles north of the Gulf of Mexico, we are now surrounded by pine trees - when the wind blows through them, a soft, low pitch whistle or whine is issued, a song of the weather's change perhaps.
Perhaps also, the Gulf Coast has a song of its own. Pensacola is very much a part of the Deep South, its palette of flavors determined by the sea as well as land. This port city dates back to 1559, our Nation's first European settlement.
Southern cooking best describes the region. Soul food is comfort food here. Grits, biscuits & gravy, greens, hush puppies, soft shell crab & New Orleans po boys are ubiquitous.
New Orleans, a food mecca known world wide, adds more than a few stanzas or verses to the song of the South: music is The Crescent City, The Big Easy. The Mississippi River is an historical conduit for music flowing upstream and down. Bourbon Street, often teeming with people, is considered the birthplace of jazz. Here the song is fine tuned from a cacophony of sights, sounds, smells, tastes & feelings into a flavorful medley.
I've listened to the song of the South for many years now, but I'm still learning the tune.
The song of the South impinges on all the senses. I've had the privilege & pleasure to travel throughout the Deep South, from Myrtle Beach, S.C. to Macon, GA, Tuscaloosa, AL, Yazoo City, MS, Alexandria, LA, Port Arthur, TX, places in between & back home to Pensacola, Florida. The notes of the song change as do the seasons, location & people, but the pervasive melody is as constant as a compass needle.
Indianola, Mississippi is to catfish as Breaux Bridge is to crawfish. Here the ponds are plentiful & the processing plants huge. Farm raised catfish is a staple of the South along with sweet tea.
In my travels from New Orleans to Morgan City, Louisiana, I would see folks fishing in the bayous & swamp lands, some with long cane poles, their bobbers laying still on the placid water in anticipation of a bite. The flesh of wild caught catfish, like many fresh water fish, tastes like the environs from which it came. There is a difference between seafood & what I call swamp food. Catfish & crawfish(never crawdads, sometimes "mud bugs") are in this category, along with alligators if eaten.
Pecan groves are plentiful in the South. Some groves are irrigated, others not. In dry years the trees benefit from the extra water. The nut heavy limbs bow under the weight & the yields are good. Last to leaf out in the spring & first to shed in the fall, the pecan is a bellwether for season's change in the South.
The piney woods of Northwest Florida & an abundance of Naval Live Oak trees, gave way to the building of wooden ships. The oak's gnarly limbs were perfect for framing a vessel, while the tall, straight long leaf pine was ideal for masts & spars. Thirty miles north of the Gulf of Mexico, we are now surrounded by pine trees - when the wind blows through them, a soft, low pitch whistle or whine is issued, a song of the weather's change perhaps.
Perhaps also, the Gulf Coast has a song of its own. Pensacola is very much a part of the Deep South, its palette of flavors determined by the sea as well as land. This port city dates back to 1559, our Nation's first European settlement.
Southern cooking best describes the region. Soul food is comfort food here. Grits, biscuits & gravy, greens, hush puppies, soft shell crab & New Orleans po boys are ubiquitous.
New Orleans, a food mecca known world wide, adds more than a few stanzas or verses to the song of the South: music is The Crescent City, The Big Easy. The Mississippi River is an historical conduit for music flowing upstream and down. Bourbon Street, often teeming with people, is considered the birthplace of jazz. Here the song is fine tuned from a cacophony of sights, sounds, smells, tastes & feelings into a flavorful medley.
I've listened to the song of the South for many years now, but I'm still learning the tune.
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