I read a publication called The Bitter Southerner, started by my friend Chuck Reece, and I have thought a lot about the influence of that publication on my inner life. Two of my essays have been published by them Memories of Segregation and A Recovering Food Snob. Both reflect some of my feelings about being southern, but they really only scratch the surface.
What likely distinguishes me from some Bitter Southerner readers and writing contributors is that I am not actually bitter.
The only thing that makes me bitter is the idea that I should be ashamed to be southern. I am not ashamed. I am actually proud to be from the south.
I am also proud to be a Thompson.
Does that mean I condone or agree with everything said or done by any southerner or by members of my Thompson family? No. Not at all.
There seems to be a movement afoot, though, to be ruthlessly politically correct these days, and I am horrified by that. If anyone not southern expects me to apologize for my region, my family, my southern accent, my southern ancestors, the southern food I like to fix -- well, let's just say it will be a cold day in hell before I'll do that.
I have a friend in England who was asked to remove his flag from his front yard because some people found it offensive. God help anyone who asked me to remove an American flag from my yard. You're offended by patriotism? Too bad. I am offended that you would take offense.
Where is it written that anyone who finds something offensive is to be treated with kid gloves? What is wrong with being offended? I am offended all the time, countless times a day. I watch TV and I get offended. I read books that contain offensive things. Every time I go out in public and see some boy with his pants falling off or a girl showing her boobs I get offended. Conversely, most major religions offend me in some way. My friends and neighbors offend me on a regular basis. So what?
I can sit around and dwell on being offended or I can GET OVER IT AND MOVE ON. People who are constantly offended are inviting negativity and drama into their life and I don't have any interest in that. I choose to live in peace.
I choose to move on.
I don't fear offending anyone but I don't go out of my way to do it, either.
For example, I know people who actually make money from blogging. That's fine. Good for them. I don't. You know why? If I accepted ads it would imply I approve of the products. If I let an advertiser or sponsor give me money I would have to dance to their tune -- and it would undoubtedly include worrying about offending people. I won't do that.
I write exactly what I want to write and if you find it offensive, go read something else. It won't bother me a bit.
Most bloggers I was reading years ago have stopped blogging. I think it has to do with offending people, in part. If you live your whole life worrying about offending someone, you are essentially in a prison of your own making.
One of the integral parts of the American identity is the idea that we can be who we are without reservation, as long as we don't physically harm someone else. Some want to expand that definition and say we cannot offend anyone else. I don't agree with that.
Now, I feel compelled to mention a couple of things I consider exceptions. When offensiveness becomes emotionally harmful then it must not be tolerated.
One, confederate monuments. I have never paid much attention to them. Ditto for confederate flags. However, if a black person (or a person of any race, really) finds them offensive, they need to be relegated to history museums. If there were a giant Nazi flag flying in a public space and Jewish people found it offensive would anyone argue about taking it down? Of course not.
Two, sexual harassment. Is it okay for men to sexually harass women? Nope. Never. It's not only offensive it's harmful. Is it okay for women to sexually harass men? Nope again. No human being should ever be made to feel like an object.
Now, having explained the exceptions, I want to circle back to my original premise, being southern. If someone is offended by the very fact that I am southern, or they expect me to apologize for it, forget it. I bear no responsibility for what my ancestors did, or what they believed. I won't apologize for their actions. Do I condone racism or slavery? Of course not.
I cherish my southern identity. There are so many good things about living in the south.
I cherish the fact that I was raised to have good manners. Countless times in my life I have been thankful that my parents taught me to be gracious and to have good manners, because manners are, quite simply, kindness.
I cherish the idea that family is important. I can trace my family members back hundreds of years. In college, I was friends with a girl from Michigan who didn't even know the names of her own grandparents. I was appalled. I can tell you the names of most of my second, third, and fourth cousins.
I cherish the fact that we talk slower, and generally are not in such a hurry. I remember the first time I ever went to New York City, feeling stress just from being in the city, where there were almost no birds or trees, and there were huge crowds of people. It didn't feel like a friendly, welcoming place to me. Ditto for Chicago and Philadelphia. Drop me into Macon Georgia or Raleigh North Carolina, though, and I will feel right at home. I will not feel stressed out.
I love visiting big cities, but I don't want to live there. [Just fyi I live in Tucker, not downtown Atlanta. My life is far more rural than you might imagine.]
I embrace the diversity of my home. I have friends of all races and religions. Sometimes outsiders think everyone in the south is just an inbred redneck. That's laughable. In Tucker Georgia you can get a great Indian meal, a wonderful Thai meal, Mexican food, Peruvian food, etc.
I have a dear friend who is black, whose wife is white. He grew up in New Jersey. I asked him recently why he preferred to live in the rural south. He said "Because there is less racism down here." Amen, brother.
Thanks for reading. Don't get offended easily. Don't be bitter, y'all. It's a waste of energy.
