Southern Hospitality

Well, my mother doesn't read this, but if she did then she might see how some of the ideas that she put in her daughther's head might not be the healthiest in the world. I grew up in rural East Tennessee. It's a culture that places its women in a double bind. I was taught to be competent and not need men. I needed to fix my car, make straight A's, and be sure of myself. But I was also taught to be soft spoken and demure, play coy, and always be polite. Never insult a man's ego. Never expect too much emotional support from men. Never demand anything that you need. Just so you know, trying to be all of these things will make you insane.

Also consider that my mother grew up in a strong single mother family with two sisters and one brother, with a father that abandoned her family when she was two years old. My father had an authoritarian dad whose family caters to his every whim in such a subservient way that there is rarely conflict. So, the parenting messages were all sorts of muddled sometimes.

Another thing that my mother never does is send forwards. You know, those pithy, annoying emails that someone found amusing and thought that everyone including your second cousin should read. So, I found it INCREDIBLY interesting that my mother sent me a forward today. My interest was piqued.

Now, I know not to open emails with the title "Southern Women." But hope springs eternal, and I thought maybe the entire world had flip flopped, my mother had caught on to my anger about being shoved into a box that didn't quite fit all my life, and would preface such an email with something like "Look at this driveling pile of poop." But, no such luck, my mom sent the following as an actual serious forward.

Southern Women:
Southern women appreciate their natural assets:
Clean skin.
A winning smile.
That unforgettable Southern drawl.

Southern women know their manners:
"Yes, ma'am."
"Yes, sir."
"Why, no, Billy!"

Southern women have a distinct way with fond expressions:
"Y'all come back!"
"Well, bless your little heart."
"Drop by when you can."
"How's your Momma?"

Southern women know their summer weather report:
Humidity
Humidity
Humidity

Southern women know their vacation spots:
The beach
The beach
The beach

Southern women know the joys of June, July, and August:
Summer tans
Colorful hi-heel sandals
Strapless sun dresses

Southern women know everybody's first name:
Honey
Darlin'
Shugah

Southern women know the movies that speak to their hearts:
Fried Green Tomatoes
Driving Miss Daisy
Steel Magnolias
Gone With The Wind

Southern women know their religions:
Baptist
Methodist
Football

Southern women know their country breakfasts:
Red-eye gravy
Grits
Country ham
Mouth-watering homemade biscuits with momma's homemade jelly

Southern women know their cities dripping with Southern charm:
Charleston (Chawl'stn)
Savannah (S'vanah)
New Orleans (N'awlins)
Atlanta (Addlanna)

Southern women know their elegant gentlemen:
Men in uniform.
Men in tuxedos
Rhett Butler, of course!

Southern girls know their prime real estate:
The Mall
The Country Club
The Beauty Salon
(maybe we should add Wal-Mart)

Southern girls know the four deadly sins:
Having bad hair and nails
Having bad manners
Cooking bad food
Wearing too much makeup in the summer

Southern girls know men may come and go, but friends are fahevah!

Now...... Shugah, send this to some friends who
were raised in the South or wish they had been!


If you're a Northern transplant, Bless your little
heart... fake it. We know you got here as fast as you
could.....!!!

Now, I have to take some responsibility for this. I'm not quite adult enough to call my mom and tell her just how much this email hurts me, considering all the work I"m doing in therapy on the fact that I don't feel enough like a woman. My mother, a strong woman who is in the ministry, who thinks women are equipped to minister as much as men, who would fight to her dying day to be treated as an equal, subjects herself to such latent discrimination and it hurts me.

I've talked before about how my mother told me that she was basically disappointed in my pereceived level of feminity. This is interesting to me from the same mother who put me in Tball at the age of 4, who enrolled me in dance classes, told me I could do anything, and she literally fought city hall for equal wages for women at one point when I was child.


So, maybe I'm a snivelling ungrateful baby. My parents are happily married for 30 years, they were there for every game and award banquet, they taught me to love Christ and others, they never participated in manifest sexism, and they did not hold me back even when it scared them where I was flying.

But, it does hurt. And it makes me angry. GRRRRR.