Today marks the first day of my last semester of college... Well, until I decide to come back for that sacred PhD. (Mom always wanted a doctor in the family.) Looking back at my reflection, I can’t help but think about how I got here today.
I never fully appreciated growing up in a small town until just recently. It was always the thing I was ashamed of—living in a town with an abundance of stop signs and a never-ending grapevine of gossip. The town mayor was my bus driver, softball coach, and teacher. Thoughts are narrow, minds closed, babies and marriage... The problem was that I never felt like I belonged. I judged everyone that didn't think like me (embarrassed now to admit that). I thought settling down before the age of 26 was preposterous, and feminism was a trait rather than a movement. Career was my priority, and I couldn't get away from "this hell hole" fast enough. Then I flew to London...
My whole demeanor changed. Ironically, I left for London on my 21st birthday. The day I arrived in London was America's Independence Day... my independence day. I studied for a month abroad, traveling to Normandy, Paris, Venice, Florence, Rome... In a word—magnificent. I came back to the States with confidence, an open mind, a respect and appreciation for different cultures, and a strong desire to return to Europe. I left my heart in London. (Too dramatic?) Despite gaining an understanding and appreciation for people that weren't like me, I still condemned the people "stuck" in my small town. I couldn't understand why they didn't want to experience the world, or how they could be content with life as it was. As a hoity-toity world traveler, I knew that there was so much more to life than cow-tipping, Piggly Wiggly, and high school football games. Then I moved to Austin...
My nickname is Beth Ann. Immediately you get that I'm from the South. Come on, I have two names. Introducing myself to fellow Texas AdGrads was a fun time (insert sarcasm). They hail from cities and countries all over the world—Seattle, Boston, Italy, Los Angeles, Russia, and New York. They had grown up in places that I had only dreamed of visiting. I was intimidated, so I hid my roots. Covered them up the best that I could. What I didn’t realize was that I wasn’t just covering up my background; I was covering up a place and a group of people that heavily influenced the person I am today. Then something clicked…
Growing up in my small town taught me to value every opportunity that I’m given, count every friendship as a blessing, enjoy the simple things, and be proud of who I am and what I stand for. Dad showed me how to work hard and trust in something that I couldn’t see. My brothers taught me how to laugh and be independent. Mom gave me a spirit of kindness and raised me to be a proper Southern belle. Some of my best friends still live there—the kind of friends that love you for your faults and will call just to make sure you’re okay.
So. I’m from Mississippi. My high school graduating class had 64 people. I love the smell of fresh cut grass and miss the sound of rain on a tin roof. I’ll never forget the cow I named Oreo; she’s buried in the back pasture. Rolling a tree is an art form. Mama’s banana pudding and sweet tea hits the spot every time. When I was a little girl, Daddy's nightly ritual was sharing graham cracker and peanut butter sandwiches with me while sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. My brother attached my little red wagon to the riding lawnmower so that I could be “chauffeured” around the yard.
"Mississippi is like my mother. I am allowed to complain about her all I want, but God help the person who raises an ill word about her around me, unless she is their mother too." -Kathryn Stockett, The Help
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