Damn Yankees
Courtesy of DenseAtoms.
Some of my friends have called me a victim of wanderlust, as I have lived in so many places. Over the past seven years, I have moved once a year. If I wasn’t changing cities, I was at least changing apartments. I’ve lived in Great Falls (Virginia), Boston, Brookline, Brighton, South End (Boston), Ft. Lauderdale, and Tamarac, Florida. Now I’m living in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.
For the sake of this post, I’m going to consider Ft. Lauderdale (and its surrounding areas) a city setting. I don’t know what endless miles of concrete lined with palm trees, strip clubs, and Taco Bells technically constitutes, but that’s neither here nor there. I will also consider it a part of the “Northern” culture, as it’s definitely not Southern in culture. Also, I think most people can agree that “Floridians” are from New York, New Jersey, or Cuba (Eastern Mexico) by way of a floating door, which is essentially like being in New York City. Agreed?
Every place I have lived ever since I moved away from the Washington DC area at the ripe old age of 19 years old has essentially been a “Northern” city setting. A Yankee setting, if you will. Now I live in the South, and the culture differences are much more in-your-face than I expected them to be.
I, of course, expected people noticing my lack of drawl or my inability to cook country fried steak, but it goes far beyond that. For example, I have this habit where I smile with my mouth closed. It is my genuine smile, and I’ve done this since I was a child; it’s not an affect. My father also has the same smiling quirk, as does my mother. I had a friend of mine who is a serious “Carolina Girl” pull me aside in a social setting to recommend that I start smiling with teeth, because it is going to make everyone else uncomfortable. They won’t trust me. “They trust you when you show teeth.”
What?
In addition, in conversations consisting of 3 or more people, I lapse into silence and just listen. I’ll occasionally interject something if I feel I have something to say, but otherwise I could end up being mute for 15 minutes or more. I do not find this odd. I will still be listening attentively. Apparently this is another major faux pas. Unless I’m grasping every single opportunity to tell some childhood story or something else about myself, I’m perceived as secretive. Others thought this was a sign that I didn’t like them, even if I was nodding along and acting agreeable in every other way.
Excuse me?
To top this wacky cake off, I’m an only child. Both of my parents are only children. This means that I have no aunts, uncles, or cousins. Yes, this is rather unusual, and when I have described this to people from the North, it’s been met with the requisite “Wow, that’s different” comments, and then it’s dropped. It’s not a huge deal, even if it is an interesting Liz fact.
When I’ve mentioned it here, I have been met with incredulous stares that make me feel like either (a) I’m a three-headed alien or (b) orange is REALLY not my color. I’ve had guys down here outright deny me, not because they didn’t like me, but because they wanted to date someone with the same good ol’ Southern upbringing as theirs. They would be completely and utterly into me, and then shut down as soon as they found out how I grew up and where I was from. They would go from hot to very very cold. They needed a girl who understood the big family mentality, etc. I was fun, but not long term material. Because I came from a small family. When my female Southern friends heard about my background, they just didn’t get it.
“How did you even function that way?”
I think the thing that amazes me the most is the myth that Northerners are the assholes, and Southerners are as sweet as pie. I disagree.
Okay, so Yankees may be a little more in your face about our opinions. If we don’t like you, we’ll say so. There’s no need to waste time on people who aren’t worth it. In the South, the ladies will smile and invite you to dinner. They’ll make you your favorite dinner and ask you to stay for a dessert of cobbler or pie. Then, as the door is hitting your ass on the way out, they’ll whisper that you’re a bitch and gossip about you to their friends. I cannot tell you how many rumors are floating around about me.
Who’s the real asshole?
Now, don’t get me wrong, I do love a lot of things about living here. There are a lot of genuinely nice people here. The country is a gorgeous place to live. The standard of living is much lower, yet my salary is still the same, as if I were living in Boston. It’s a calm and beautiful place to live, where people drink beer and have bonfires, which are pretty darned fun.
In spite of all the wonderful things about where I live, I have learned one huge lesson while living here: I don’t belong here. I love it, but I’ve realized it is yet another stop on the Liz Gravy Train, and most likely I’ll be going home to the motherland (Washington DC) in the next year or two.
That’s okay with me. I have learned a lot while living here, and I will probably learn a lot more before I leave. This area of the country has taken me in with open arms when I most needed the comfort and the solitude of non-city living. Following my horrific break up with Chris, I needed to be somewhere that didn’t ask much of me. No cable television. No internet. No hussle and bussle. Just relaxation. It’s also helping me save up some money for when I move back to the city, which will no doubt be expensive.
Now, I will conclude this by admitting that I have made some generalities, but I am just reporting what I have experienced. Maybe this is simply how people act in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Maybe this just happens to be the group of people I fell into, who view Yankees as a plague. The same “Carolina Girl” who told me to smile with my teeth also told me I shouldn’t be talking about where I came from (the North), as it’s a turn-off to men. I was just to pretend like I had always been there. I was to act like a Southerner.
I’m entertaining enough to keep around, though. I can’t count how many times the girls I hang out with have heard me utter something that made them laugh so hard, while at the same time scolding me about how I can’t say things like that. Things that other Northerners yawn at. It’s incredible.
Anyway, if you are Southern and take offense, disagree, etc, I apologize. I am merely one girl with one opinion.
Just blame it on me being a Yankee.
11 Comments
May 30, 2008 at 11:35 pm
I totally agree with everything you said! I was a displaced (upstate) New Yorker living in Greenville, NC (tobacco country) for two years….and this post is an accurate description of my life in the south! I HAD TO GET OUT. I also lived near Chapel Hill (Pittsboro) for three summers while I worked at a summer camp. I think CH is a little more northern in the sense that the University brings a variety of people to the area…..but still, mostly homegrown southerners. It’s another world down there.
May 31, 2008 at 12:06 am
1 month before I swooped in and stole you back. ;)
May 31, 2008 at 2:14 am
Okay, as a Southern girl, I gotta at least try to defend the South. Sadly, I have encountered a lot nicer and less judgmental people in DC than in any Southern city I have ever lived. I know almost all of my neighbors here whereas in NC and GA you barely knew one. And I have met so many fantastic people and made such great friends in DC!
But even though I come from a big family, I don’t find it the least bit odd to hear about your small family. I think it’s cozy :)
May 31, 2008 at 9:04 am
That is very, very, veerry interesting.
Who knew?!
Then again.. I sorta kinda do.. being that I worked with locals while in Blacksburg, VA. People really ARE like that.
May 31, 2008 at 5:46 pm
it’s always interesting when I go to the south, being a proud Yankee myself. People have been nice but they freak me out with the “miss” and “ma’ams.” Just stop! I could use some Southern manners though.
May 31, 2008 at 6:02 pm
Hi,
Having grown up in the much deeper south than Chapel Hill, but having lived in Durham for some 16 years, I can tell you in all candor that Chapel Hill is not representative of most of the south. When discussion was first under way to build the NC Zoo, Jesse Helms said, “Why don’t we just build a fence around Chapel Hill?” I think most people who don’t actually live there would consider Chapel Hill to be somewhat “snooty”.
I never heard anything about smiling with your teeth. Sounds like that person may be remembering lessons from her (or her mother’s) debutante training. Smiling is the important part.
I dated plenty of northern girls and I dated plenty siblingless girls, and there was never any stigma at all attached. Nor do I ever recall anyone I ever knew saying anything at all about this.
Having said those things, some of the things you mentioned are spot on. My southern mother would NEVER confront someone to their face on any issue, but she’d rip ‘em a new one as soon as she had the opportunity. Somehow that passes for politeness in the south.
Sit silently through a conversation and yeah, you’ll probably be thought of us unfriendly. Southerners open up and recount personal experiences to each other. All the freakin’ time. Whether you’re really interested or not. It’s considered being “outgoing”, which is a supreme compliment down there.
And Jessica, manners are pounded into us. I’m over the half-century mark and I still refer to people as ma’am and sir. In fact, when I’ve traveled up north, I can turn up the accent just a tad, refer to my waitress as “ma’am”, and I get special service for my entire meal.
So come home!
June 1, 2008 at 3:27 am
I grew up in the South. There are many things I like about it- sausage biscuits with gravy, everyone smiling/waving when you pass them on the street (even strangers!), etc. But there were more reasons to leave than to stay – the Southern Patriot shop in your photo is pretty representative of some of those reasons.
June 1, 2008 at 3:10 pm
By the way, I meant to mention this before. The Flickr photos I saw when I first discovered this article were of your dog on his first day home. I had a black & brindle Scottie once and he had an ear that flopped when he was a puppy too. Thanks for great memories. Incredibly cute dog.
June 3, 2008 at 7:06 am
Remember that in the Animal Kingdom, baring your teeth is a warning before attack.
Just sayin’!
August 5, 2008 at 3:45 pm
[...] Hellbent on finding my niche, I answered the call of friends in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. I definitely do not belong in the South, and I learned that very quickly. [...]
August 6, 2008 at 5:21 pm
WAY LATE on the commenting, but I’m bored at work and figured commenting would be a more productive use of time than calling vendors.
I grew up in central Florida, near the west coast. I don’t consider myself southern, although Florida is technically in the southern United States. I’m not a Yankee as I have a tendency to say my ‘r’s (going so far as to put them in places they don’t belong. Read: warsher).
That being said, I wish I could live in the Southy-South, the part with the front porch swings and the lightning bugs, the jugs of sweet tea and the biscuits and gravy. Maybe that only exists in Fried Green Tomatoes. The houses are cheaper, the accents grate on my nerves less, and there’s an air of hospitality that I can’t find anywhere else.