A Few Thoughts On Growing Up In Southern Georgia
You know, I went to elementary school in the South. Like Deep South, south. 50 miles south of Atlanta south. And as a kid, teachers would refer to the Civil War as “The War Of Northern Aggression” during our history lessons.
Culturally, from the age of six, to the age of ten, I came to understand that the South still feels as though the Civil War happened yesterday, and they believe they won. And they literally cannot let go of that past… which kind of seemed funny so many years ago, and so entirely the opposite over these past four to eight years.
Now? Now, it’s come home to roost in this most terrible way, in this most terrible time:
I guess what I mean to say is that I’m not surprised this is happening. That there’s a rotten core in our country, and we should have known–we DID know– it was there the entire time.
I’ll also add here that I’m eternally grateful we left the South to return to New Jersey. I really never liked the idea of growing up in the South, going to college in the South, and potentially never being able to escape the region.
It has its great points, just like any geographical area has its advantages, but I’ll take neurotic, expensive, competitive New York City over the South, any day of the week, any time of the year.
At least southern summers prepared me for the misery of the subway.