2008 Woodie Awards
Southern in the City
It's a Tough World Out There, Kid
Courtney Roy
Issue date: 3/30/05 Section: Features
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The South, most especially Louisiana, has quite a few stereotypes-we all live in swamps, take rowboats to school, we keep alligators in our homes, and we're all taught that we beat those silly Yankees senseless in the Civil War, but decided to be nice and stay in the Union anyway. Now, I do have to be honest here, there are people that do live in the swampy Atchafalya Basin, boats are quite popular, though they are usually reserved for weekend fishing trips, some still hold their Southern heritage above all else, and, as a child, my father did have a small run-in with an alligator in his house.
While I have grown accustomed to fielding questions like "Oh my goodness, you're from Louisiana. So what did they teach you there?" or "Louisiana huh? I bet you love those crawdads," it gets to be quite tiresome. Just imagine answering questions like "Oh, Jersey, man, is there an oil refinery across the street from your house?" or "Really, Long Island? You must love bagels and stromboli." While I came expecting to answer silly questions from time to time, I at least thought that most people would have a little more common sense, or at least that they would look beyond "The Water boy" for their view of other places. Almost every time that people learn of my hometown I get the same reaction: a look of confusion spreads across their face. Silence for a moment. Then the requisite "Wow, so why did you move up here?" And, finally, come the unavoidable silly questions. Some of my friends have told me to retort with snide comments, others have said that a crash course in Louisiana history would do the trick. Somehow, though, I cannot bring myself to get upset with someone over all of this; people really do mean well, but it can be very difficult to put aside the stereotypical image.
I cannot say that I myself am totally guilt-free in this either. Before moving here, I had never spent more than two weeks at a time in New York, so obviously, I did not know much about the people. Most of my interactions were based on a few sentences regarding directions or recommendations. Yes, I thought that most New Yorkers were terribly rude, and as my mother might say, "brutish." No one ever held doors open, store clerks never bothered to say things like "Have a nice day!" after helping us, which is most certainly the norm in the south. It was the small things in everyday life that really added up. Once I began living here, however, I began to see that not everyone was quite so cold, and that, on occasion, I'll meet a stranger that will open the door or smile for no reason.
Stereotypes are an issue that we're all faced with, and it limits the lessons that we can learn from others. If we were all to automatically assume that we know all about a person based on a stereotype, then we would never be able to get to know the real person inside.
While I have grown accustomed to fielding questions like "Oh my goodness, you're from Louisiana. So what did they teach you there?" or "Louisiana huh? I bet you love those crawdads," it gets to be quite tiresome. Just imagine answering questions like "Oh, Jersey, man, is there an oil refinery across the street from your house?" or "Really, Long Island? You must love bagels and stromboli." While I came expecting to answer silly questions from time to time, I at least thought that most people would have a little more common sense, or at least that they would look beyond "The Water boy" for their view of other places. Almost every time that people learn of my hometown I get the same reaction: a look of confusion spreads across their face. Silence for a moment. Then the requisite "Wow, so why did you move up here?" And, finally, come the unavoidable silly questions. Some of my friends have told me to retort with snide comments, others have said that a crash course in Louisiana history would do the trick. Somehow, though, I cannot bring myself to get upset with someone over all of this; people really do mean well, but it can be very difficult to put aside the stereotypical image.
I cannot say that I myself am totally guilt-free in this either. Before moving here, I had never spent more than two weeks at a time in New York, so obviously, I did not know much about the people. Most of my interactions were based on a few sentences regarding directions or recommendations. Yes, I thought that most New Yorkers were terribly rude, and as my mother might say, "brutish." No one ever held doors open, store clerks never bothered to say things like "Have a nice day!" after helping us, which is most certainly the norm in the south. It was the small things in everyday life that really added up. Once I began living here, however, I began to see that not everyone was quite so cold, and that, on occasion, I'll meet a stranger that will open the door or smile for no reason.
Stereotypes are an issue that we're all faced with, and it limits the lessons that we can learn from others. If we were all to automatically assume that we know all about a person based on a stereotype, then we would never be able to get to know the real person inside.