Two roads diverged in a wood, and I - I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

[Fun fact: Most of this was handwritten during a London to Norwich train journey. Which is looking finer than ever!]

This post is about making life choices during your twenties, respecting other people's choices, and the culture that surrounds the idea of "choice" in the first place. Normally I write about country-to-country culture, but as a twenty-something who is soon to leave education/academia for employment, and single life for marriage, I felt that this was an interesting time to reflect on the expectations of potentially the most transient stage of life. My intention is not to sound dogmatic or arrogant about my own particular path, but I am going to draw upon my own experience and how it relates to people's cultural expectations and responses.

So much has been made of Wander Onwards's "23 Things To Do Instead of Getting Engaged Before You're 23" that I'm hesitant to respond to it at all. But it struck a nerve with me, both because I am only 24 myself and because I recently got engaged. In all honesty, I don't care for this post. It's not particularly because she is criticizing a choice I've actually made; I even think she has some valid points for waiting to get married and knowing yourself well first. But overall, I find her approach anti-feminist. Putting aside the jab that married women become "fat" (from pregnancy?), this author subscribes to the idea that women are either exciting single women with an abundance of adventures ahead of them, or they are boring, man-dependent wives. Neither this author nor the women gleefully re-posting it are convincing me that their life choices are superior to mine. Frankly, I'm confused about why they would want to.

Friends, family and acquaintances have responded to my engagement much more forcefully than any other life choice (and let's remember I moved from almost-London to Mississippi, hardly most people's idea of a reasonable decision). Perhaps there is something stiflingly universal about engagement, expected and elusive at the same time. It's as if the fact that I am engaged sends a message that I think all women should be engaged now too. I guess that means I think more people should be scholars of the South, too? Well... Anyway, the vast majority are congratulatory and sincere, but some - usually my age, usually female - look down at my ring and have an immediate impulse to express and/or defend their own life choices. I've heard variations of, "Well, I'm still single" followed by a chuckle or wince, "I don't think I'll ever get married" with a contented smile or sidelong glance, or, a little more biting, "But you've only been together 2 years?" and, "That's young to get married." With a headshake. I am not someone who wants to show off the ring all the time and tell everyone I meet - wedding planning is so beyond terrifying that I am happy to talk about the weather instead - so I can only imagine the replies to a more gregarious bride.

These responses imply that we think our choices are the result of nothing except our own desires, immune to timing and circumstance; indeed, it suggests we think that we can choose when and how life events take place. I don't believe in such complete control. Right now I'm at home in England and I've had the pleasure of catching up with old friends. Some are in long-term relationships and living together, some are engaged, some are single with various feelings about it. What are my single friends doing "wrong"? I'm inclined to say nothing. (For one, there is no problem at all with enjoying being alone, can we all try to remember this pleeease?) At university I didn't chase after relationships, I turned down what I wasn't sure of, I would not accept blind dates. My mind was focused on becoming a writer, traveler and academic. I got comments about my lack of "experience", unwillingness to "try" and even a suggestion that I might not be heterosexual. And yet one day I met my future husband, and I was only 21. Of course I committed to this relationship in particular, but no, there was nothing I "did" to "achieve" a proposal. I didn't sacrifice my love of travel and academia, either. It was really a combination of choices and circumstances.

When thinking about this post I was reminded of my favorite TED Talk, Meg Jay's "Why 30 is Not the New 20." Jay's argument is that we should not trivialize twenty-somethings and instead encourage thoughtful personal development. Vanessa of Wander Onwards obviously has her sense of fun down, and I admire someone who wants to travel by themselves, but I don't accept her conclusion that she has, "already experienced more of the world in the last 22 years than [her] married peers will ever experience in their life." If you can and want to, I also encourage travel - but let's be clear that it's not the only way to soul-search and develop as an individual. I believe that you can get to know yourself through travel or staying at home, in a relationship or single, in education or at work, as a parent or childless. I believe that conscious choices - made assertively, not due to fear - that are made wherever possible will take you on the path to happiness. It won't be perfect, and we all have things that hold us back, but that is at least a more honest way to live than following someone else's notion of what life should be, whether that means getting married before you are ready or going abroad because you think you should.

We are obsessed, even now, with whether women (and men) can "have it all." I think what "all" means is entirely up to you.

It was always so hot, and everyone was so polite, and everything was all surface but underneath it was like a bomb waiting to go off.

Today I will attempt to answer the question: What is the South?

From Southern Studies 101 to Southern Studies 601, from Mississippi to North Carolina, I have talked to a lot of people about what "the South" really means. We draw lines between different countries, but defining a region is more complicated.

In the UK, we pretty much understand where England ends and where Scotland and Wales begin. But I've found that people get more argumentative when it comes to placing counties within a region. For instance, when I was at UEA, I heard people argue that Norfolk was part of the North, the South, the Midlands, the East and the Southeast. (Can't we agree on "East Anglia?") Defining, say, the South of England, would be entirely subject to context and individual perspectives. It's exactly the same in the US, except they like to talk about it a lot more.

During my first semester at Ole Miss, someone asked if it was my first time in the US.

"No," I told him, "I lived in North Carolina for a year."

He replied, "Oh, so this is your first time in the South!"

What? Is North Carolina a Yankee state now? My North Carolinian fiance grinds his teeth at the very suggestion he is not a real southerner.

There are some states that most people willingly agree are part of the American South (such as Alabama and Mississippi), and others that are more up for debate (such as Texas or Kentucky). For some people, the Deep South is somehow "more southern" than the culture found in the Carolinas. So who's in, and who's out? Who is at the center and who is on the fringe? How do you define a region, and what does it all mean in the end?

Here are some different definitions of what some consider to be "the South":

Geographical Definition

"The relationship between the Mason and Dixon needs some fixin'." 

- LL Cool J. 

(Who could do with enrolling in Southern Studies 101. Brad Paisley should come too.)

As you can see from the map on the right, the US Census defines the South as encompassing the following states: Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, Louisiana, Oklahoma and Texas.

What a big party! And it really does screw with you when you're trying to use statistics to back up a point about rural culture and big cities such as Dallas and Tallahassee keep getting in the way. Moving on...

Historical Definition

"Advance the flag of Dixie! Hurrah! Hurrah!

In Dixie's land we take our stand, and live or die for Dixie!" 
- Confederate States of America War Song. Also Kevin Spacey, briefly.

The South is still defined today by its role in the 19th century: secession from the Union (on the part of - in order - South Carolina, Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Texas, Virginia, Arkansas, North Carolina, Tennessee), support of slavery, formation of the Confederacy and subsequently the Civil War. To tell the whole truth, despite the fact that I am a Southern Studies student, I am no Civil War buff. Eventually I will sit down and watch the entire Ken Burns TV series.

But for now I will just say that I was honestly surprised by how much the Civil War still has a ghostly presence within the South. Also known as "the war between the states" and "the war of Northern aggression", it did after all end as long ago as 1865. Yet it is referenced far, far more than I can recall World War II being brought up during all my years in Britain, and that was only my grandparents' generation. I can remember being a young girl and hearing soldier stories from my grandfather, evacuee stories from my grandmother - but I never digested it as a source of personal pride or personal history. The Confederacy still is a part of southern "tradition" for some families and individuals, which manifests in a number of ways: joining a group like the Daughters of the Confederacy, celebrating Robert E. Lee Day, flying the Confederate Flag, etc.

 Cultural Definition

 "The old game, I suspect, is beginning to play out in the Bible Belt." - H.L. Mencken. 

 

It occurs to me that "the South" is not always a recognizable term to those who do not call the United States home. Which leads to a somewhat awkward situation when I try to explain what I'm getting a Master's in. Southern America... You mean like Brazil? No, just no. At least you'll be close to you boyfriend in California, right? Hmm... How near is it to New York/Washington D.C./Chicago/Los Angeles? It's not. I can sort of work with you if you know where Florida is though.

You get the idea.

But what people DO know is that some parts of America are very, very religious. Occasionally someone will ask, "Is Mississippi in the Bible Belt?" Yes, yes, YES. Now we are getting somewhere! The Bible Belt refers to the southeastern (and sometimes southcentral, and occasionally midwestern) states of the US, and points to the proportion of evangelical Protestants, as well as the importance of religious/church culture in general. Sometimes you hear the phrase "the Buckle of the Bible Belt", as in most extreme, but it is apparently a multi-buckling belt as many places have been labeled this, based on the presence mega-churches, percentage of Baptists, or perhaps Pat Robertson appreciation.

My department at the University of Mississippi is called the Center for the Study of Southern Culture. It's exactly what it says on the tin: we study culture. What is culture, aside from religion? In academic gobbledeegook, we are an interdisciplinary bunch who study topics such as literature and literary theory, history, sociology, anthropology, documentary, ethnography, communications, globalization, politics and economics. Each discipline gives us a small idea of southern identity, even as it may obscure other ideas. Culture is not always clear-cut and harmonious. It is complicated, in flux, evading conclusions.

I can give you southern tropes with which to communicate ideas about the South, but as I've said, these are mere dots of the puzzle. Southern people say "y'all." Faulkner, Welty and O'Connor wrote southern literature. Let Us Now Praise Famous Men documents southern life. Charlotte, North Carolina, is the headquarters of Bank of America and is part of the global South. The South is so vast, so varied, so complex, that even after years of study - and for some, a lifetime of experience - there is always more to learn.

 Personal Definition

“I quickly realized there is no such thing as the South; there are just hundreds of souths." - Wiley Cash.

If I had to pin down the main reason why I love to study culture, I would say its fluidity.

Most people know I am far from a black-and-white person. I believe in moral relativism, I am agnostic, I see the world in terms of multiplicity. I am also not an ambivalent person. I find our world contradictory, unjust sometimes, unfathomable and yet meaningful - never boring, never not worth thinking about. I get lost in the details of life, people and places. I know I can never fully answer a question like, "What is the South?" and yet I will try for the rest of my life.

To end this post, I have a challenge for you.

Whether you have lived in the South all your life, moved there for college or a job, married a southerner, taken a trip to Atlanta, watched Gone With The Wind one time, or never heard of it until this post, I want you to take a moment to think about this.

Set a timer for 1-2 minutes. Without stopping, write down everything that comes to mind about the South.

I'll end here with what I came up with, and I hope some of you will share your thoughts too.

The South is...
Sweet tea, long porches, slow talking and soft accents, nice manners, racism, women who want to get married young, excellent universities, storytelling, conflict, sweet potato mash with marshmallows, humidity, buzzing cicadas at night, football and basketball, blue skies, mountains, banjos, MLK, honey, peaches, patriotism, guns and cars, rednecks, cotton and mills, grits, Elvis Presley.