A Rebel Among Yankees

My Southern drawl is pointed out to me almost daily, which doesn't bother me, but I am self-conscious of it to a degree because Northerners judge the Southern accent as a sign of stupidity. Self-conscious but also proudly defiant because I wouldn't change my accent if I could. Though I'm sure it will gradually lessen as a result of my stay up North, it will never fully dissipate, and that gives me comfort, reminds me where I came from.

But there's no doubt about it, it is the first thing people notice about me and it marks me for better or worse. Probably the most irritating thing is how often someone asks me if I'm from A. Kentucky, or B. Texas, two states I would never associate with intentionally. I tend to snap back, MISSISSIPPI! and I think to myself, please go soak your face you Pennsylvanian redneck. Go "Redd up" your room and put some "gum bands" around your stupid head. And while you're at it, let me wipe my ass with your Pittsburgh Steelers jersey and piss on the Superbowl trophy the refs awarded you.

Okay, now I got that off my chest. Professor Williamson warned that we have to careful what we post in our blogs because it could come back to haunt us when we get on the job market. This is probably a good example of that.