The conversations we're having lately make me think I'm living in the
Jim Crow-era instead of 2015. The latest revolves around the Confederate flag, or more specifically,
the battle flag we refer to as the Confederate flag. Following the
shooting in South Carolina, many began to campaign for the removal of this flag from government sites. Mississippi was soon brought into the conversation, as its
state flag contains the "Rebel flag" in its canton.
Mississippi has a very complicated history and a terrible image. We're known for being the worst in everything:
poorest,
fattest,
least educated,
most miserable bunch of people in the country. And while there are a lot of things we get right (
writers,
musicians,
charity,
medicine,
athletes,
etc.), the bad unfortunately outweighs the good. Too many times, I've been outside of our beloved Southeast and had my accent give me away. This accent draws people in like flies to honey. People are fascinated by it and always ask where I'm from, guessing Texas and South Carolina. I used to proudly say, "No, I'm from Mississippi!" However as I get older, that prideful exclamation has turned into a sheepish, "No... I'm from, um, Mississippi." The novel enthusiasm over meeting someone from the South quickly drains from the face of my new friend. Sometimes he or she will reply with a simple "Oh." Other times it's "I've driven through there before... beautiful place...." I've even gotten "I'm sorry" once or twice.
Mississippians feel so much pride for our state. We have to. We're the underdog in this country. No one but us thinks positively about this place. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being proud of where you come from, but a lot of times I've wanted to hide in shame of this state.
I've longed to be able to drop my accent; to not hear the silence on the other end of a phone call with anyone above the Mason-Dixon; to not be automatically labelled as backwards, stupid, and poor; to not have to see that look of sympathy on a person's face when he/she discovers my home state; to no longer feel like the disappointment of America, the skeleton in the closet that no one wants to talk about; to no longer hear
"Thank God for Mississippi." Sometimes I want to run away and surround myself with like-minded people and forget that I was ever a part of this place.
Then I remember: this is exactly what those before me and around me have done. This is what the expats have done, leaving out of frustration with a never-changing people. This is what many who still live here have done, growing defensive and stagnate, retreating further into themselves. Mississippians have segregated ourselves from the problems; we pretend that they don't exist. "We're just being picked on." "Mississippi isn't such a bad place to live." "The media only focuses on the history." While these things may all be true, that history isn't staying in the past and those statistics they spout off aren't unfounded. Mississippi isn't giving anyone any reason to see the good in us. We've come kicking and screaming into the present, not wanting to give up the "good ole days." We pitch a hissy fit (that's a technical term) at the mention of change. I do not understand the desire of those in our state who do not want to progress.
I think a lot of these attitudes may come from an ignorance of the world. Many never leave the safety or "bubble" of their community. They do not educate themselves on the world outside their own. They are kind, honest, hard-working people, but they are naive. They are skeptical of anything that challenges what they've been taught and believed for so many years. They've never experienced the gut-punch reaction from someone who feels sorry for you because you grew up here. They've never longed to "get out." They've never had an open conversation with someone who felt differently about a topic. They've never done the research on a highly debated topic for themselves.
I used to be like this. Before I graduated high school, I had never been west of the Mississippi or north of the Mason-Dixon. I had exactly one black friend. The only science I was ever taught was tainted with skepticism, and FOX News's word was as good as God's. I remember arguing in a freshman college course that racism didn't exist anymore. I signed petitions to keep Colonel Rebel as a school symbol and didn't think twice about the Confederate flag. I didn't realize how these things made some of my fellow Mississippians feel and how they made our beloved state look to outsiders. I slowly began the climb over the fence. I educated myself; I devoured information and formed my own opinions on topics. I began to meet and interact with people who were different from me. I put myself in uncomfortable situations in order to challenge my beliefs and ideals.
I encourage my fellow Mississippians to do the same. Pick an issue and gather reliable information from both sides of the debate: facts, not opinions. Have a conversation with someone who feels differently than you do about a topic. Get out and see the world. Get your news from multiple sources in an effort to weed out bias. Separate yourself from everything you know once in a while. If after doing all these things, you still hold the same opinion you did before you began, think about how that opinion affects our state. Does it represent our residents as a whole? Should it represent us on the national and international level? Will it bring industry, advancement, travel, etc to Mississippi?
Mississippi is a great place, but we're content. I sometimes feel that we have let the negative statistics define us. We've accepted them, embraced them, adopted them, worn them as a badge. It doesn't have to be that way. There are those of us who want more this place. Let's work together to advance the image or our state instead of against each other. Don't give up on yourself, Mississippi; we're the only ones fighting for us.
