Last winter, my girlfriend and I visited my hometown of Nashville, Tennessee and toured a few Civil War battlegrounds and cemeteries south of town. We stopped in a store that sold children’s toys dedicated to the Civil War: Confederate and Union army caps, toy troops, et cetera.
Back at my parents’ house, we talked about the day with my mother. We brought up the fact that my girlfriend, a Californian, had not been taught much about the Civil War (and certainly, not anything about the South’s remembrance of it). My mother shed light on why the South remembers the Civil War so much: because the war obliterated the South. (more…)
Eleven years ago, the Tennessee legislature was voting to amend the state constitution to ban gay marriage. So fragile was this institution of heterosexual marriage that it required the force of the state to defend it. Seven years ago, I moved to California and watched the state go through the same thing with Proposition 8.
So the Supreme Court’s striking down of state gay marriage bans today is a relief. It is also relevant in a week when discussion over removing the Confederate Flag has brought up that terrible concept of “state’s rights” again. There are no “state’s rights,” only individual rights.
And though I have no faith in judges and politicians to uphold individual rights, I am relieved that I don’t have to argue for gay marriage again anytime soon.
Back in March, my parents and I took a trip to Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson. It was an interesting visit. My father had never been. I’d been once in 6th grade and didn’t remember much. My mother had been several times and great memories of it in the spring when the gardens are blooming. We were there a little too early in the season for blooms. (more…)
As a native Southerner who hates all Southern accents in movies (except Reese Witherspoon’s; keep it real homegirl), I really enjoyed this Vox video explaining Kevin Spacey’s accent in House of Cards. The section of the video comparing Appalachian accents to Irish accents is extremely relatable as I was often mistaken for Irish when I tended bar in London. (In a loud bar, punters knew I wasn’t English but couldn’t place the southern accent.)