O wad
some Pow'r the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
To see oursels as ithers see us!
Robert Burns's wish might turn out to be a prayer the devil answers for many, if not most, of us. But it does raise the question, "Who are you?" When asked, we usually give our name, possibly where we live, or even where we work. If we're in Appalachia, we also are obligated to say who our people are, to fit ourselves into the historical and social context of place. But how do we answer when it is ourselves who ask the question?
Richard Blaustein (The Thistle and The Brier) quotes Jim Wayne Miller's famous poem The Brier Sermon: You must be born again, to illustrate the effect the Appalachian experience has had on our sense of self. He describes our collective coming to self realization as identity reformulation, a process of separation, marginality, and return. Like Native American children sent off to Indian Schools to learn how to be white, we have been taught that our world is inferior to the rest of America. We must give up our accents, our syntax, and values to be homogenized with the larger world. We are told this so often and with such authority that we begin to believe it.
I ran across an example recently while sampling You Tube videos. A group of young people has set out to illustrate regional differences in speech by creating a list of words that are then pronounced on camera by young people from different regions. Perhaps not surprisingly, there was almost no variation in pronunciations. One young woman from Appalachia began a word with a traditional Appalachian pronunciation, but quickly corrected herself to say it the "proper" way. No one sounded like my parents' generation, much less my grandparents' generation. We're now True Americans.
I have lived the separation, marginality, and return of which Blaustein and Miller speak. I was just entering high school when my family joined The Great Appalachian Migration, taking factory jobs in the midwest. When registering for classes the first time, I wasn't permitted to take college preparatory classes. I was a "Brierhopper," deemed incapable of such rigorous education and destined to join my parents in the factories. That decision wasn't based on test scores or transcripts, but strictly on the fact that the last school attended was in Appalachian eastern Kentucky, not to mention my then-authentic eastern Kentucky accent. So I conformed, worked to remove traces of Appalachia from my speech, and tried to blend into my peers. I think the only person fooled was myself.
While getting an education and trying to be a True American, I discovered that I really did like bluegrass and traditional mountain music. I found that the writings of Jesse Stuart spoke to me in ways that William Faulkner and F. Scott Fitzgerald didn't. I found that I could out shoot all of my peers with a rifle or a pistol. And that hiking through wooded hills and mountains produced a sense of well-being that was hard to explain. I discovered that there actually was value in my culture and my heritage. I discovered that I was actually proud that I was descended from the West Virginia Hatfields, and my other Appalachian ancestors, as well. I discovered myself.
I now know I am Appalachian, and I'm proud of that fact. Who are you?
I ran across an example recently while sampling You Tube videos. A group of young people has set out to illustrate regional differences in speech by creating a list of words that are then pronounced on camera by young people from different regions. Perhaps not surprisingly, there was almost no variation in pronunciations. One young woman from Appalachia began a word with a traditional Appalachian pronunciation, but quickly corrected herself to say it the "proper" way. No one sounded like my parents' generation, much less my grandparents' generation. We're now True Americans.
I have lived the separation, marginality, and return of which Blaustein and Miller speak. I was just entering high school when my family joined The Great Appalachian Migration, taking factory jobs in the midwest. When registering for classes the first time, I wasn't permitted to take college preparatory classes. I was a "Brierhopper," deemed incapable of such rigorous education and destined to join my parents in the factories. That decision wasn't based on test scores or transcripts, but strictly on the fact that the last school attended was in Appalachian eastern Kentucky, not to mention my then-authentic eastern Kentucky accent. So I conformed, worked to remove traces of Appalachia from my speech, and tried to blend into my peers. I think the only person fooled was myself.
While getting an education and trying to be a True American, I discovered that I really did like bluegrass and traditional mountain music. I found that the writings of Jesse Stuart spoke to me in ways that William Faulkner and F. Scott Fitzgerald didn't. I found that I could out shoot all of my peers with a rifle or a pistol. And that hiking through wooded hills and mountains produced a sense of well-being that was hard to explain. I discovered that there actually was value in my culture and my heritage. I discovered that I was actually proud that I was descended from the West Virginia Hatfields, and my other Appalachian ancestors, as well. I discovered myself.
I now know I am Appalachian, and I'm proud of that fact. Who are you?
Jim, when you're hot you're hot. It is at times like this when I really wish you wrote more at length which you rarely do. I, too, have lived this scene and I didn't like it either. After years of travel, education, and some living outside Appalachia, I unintentionally modified my accent to a degree. But after a few years of trying on purpose to change it, I quit. I was also very lucky to have known Albert Stewart, Jim Still, Don West, Bob Snyder, Pete Laska, and a few others who jumped in early and taught me to be myself and stand up for Appalachia. I love this piece. Keep up the good work.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Roger. It won't come as a surprise to you that I expected you might approve of this bit. I recommend both the Blaustein and Miller writings, if you haven't already read them. Jim
DeleteI really took this post to heart this morning. It was wonderful and made me do some thinking about my ownself and who I am. So glad to see you back on here again. You were genuinely missed! I'm with Roger, would love to see more of your writing on here too.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Christine. It's very rewarding to learn that something I wrote not only was read, but that it also led to some introspection by the reader.
DeleteA fascinating answer to a thought-provoking - and an important - question. Beautifully written, a joy to read. (As for me, I suppose I have to say that West yorkshire defines me)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Alan. I wonder, are regional dialects and traditions dying in Britain as well?
DeleteGlad to read this story. Here is mine.
ReplyDeleteLeft Tennessee in '68 for the factory work in the midwest that my husband had obtained. Sometime later I entered college. Never thought my word 'Soda' which I called 'sode' would make my face turn red. Others' laughed and I did not know why. Later I was told. For several years I did try to change my dialect and/or the ways in which I spoke them. Did that change me? Well, yes, somewhat. I wasn't really being myself. I knew how hard my folks had worked and the ethical training that I had learned. In some ways I felt that it was a betrayal of their way of life and at the same time thought we had been slighted in education.
Years later and now teach on adjunct status, I use our words and relate them in our class. For example, the ethical/law class I teach at times is a great class for this. My grandmother used to slap her knee and say; "I pond my honor!" Now that was a real common saying when I was growing up. But, in this class,I tell them how might a judge or a lawyer interpret this? I sure would not want to say this in court! This old Southern phrase plus many more of them are great ways in which to teach others' the cultural language that differs from each other. I have found that using phrases like this can enhance students understanding and appreciation of different cultural ideologies. For those that might not know, a Mr Cooper has just completed a book on folk sayings in and around areas of Fentress Co. If anyone knows John B Mullinix he knows how to get the book that is currently being sold in Fentress co. I plan on getting one. Thanks for updating your Wayfarin Stranger blog. I too have missed your site.