An explanation to a common question: Where did my accent get to????

When I tell people that I am from South Carolina, lived there for the majority of my life (22 years of it), and have only been in the NW for 6 years, invariably the first question out of peoples' mouths is to query why I have no accent.  I usually give a quick explanation as to my own theories, not wanting to bore anybody with a long discussion into identity and how we perceive ourselves.  But I figure that now that I have my very own blog, and that all of you are so terribly addicted to reading the pearls of wisdom that I choose to place here, that now is a good time to bore you.  

It might also have something to do with the fact that I'm taking an Intercultural Communications class at the moment, and all of this has been terribly relevant to my studies therein.  It may also have something to do with the fact that I've spent 8 hours out of today, and five from the day prior, studying for a midterm and now I can't get out of the habit of thinking in these terms.  So maybe a glass of wine and some free-association will be the prescription to cure me of this scholastic thinking so that I might go to bed dreaming of all of the glorious Halloween costumes I witnessed this weekend.  

But I digress.

South Carolina is a beautiful state.  South Carolina boasts some of the most extensive history in this, relatively speaking, very young country.  South Carolina possesses some very unique culture.  South Carolina is consistently at the bottom of the barrel in SAT scores and overall education.  Here lies my problem.  

I was blessed to be raised by two very intelligent and open-minded people (at first, and then there were two more added on in the form of step-parents of equal mind and mentality).  I was taught a deep empathy for people as a whole, despite race, religion, ethnicity, and gender.  I was raised with a mind held open to perceive the world outside of the Country that I have never left, and outside of the state that I spent the majority of my time.  I was given the benefit of being able to choose for myself (with guidance and a whole lot of punishment if I chose wrongly) what was right and what was wrong.  The product of all of this being the clever, free-thinking, charismatic, charming, intelligent, and (above all) humble creature whose written words you do so take pleasure in.  In short, I am many of the things that, in my mind (and this is entirely a subjective submission), are quite opposite of the majority of South Carolina.  And please understand that I know quite well that this does not go for the entirety of the state, and than I am more than likely wrong (please refer to the very first posting on this entire blog).  But in all honesty, the areas outside the cities (all three or four of them) are like pockets that time forgot.  They are racially charged, culturally challenged, and sorely uneducated.  

When I moved to Portland I knew that my life needed experiences beyond what I could receive living in South Carolina.  I knew that traveling wouldn't be enough.  And when I arrived here my suspicions were confirmed.  For whatever reasons, my mind had locked onto all of the negative aspects of the South that I perceived.  When I turned on the news there, it always seemed as though they found the most ignorant, toothless, backwards fool they could muster to give some opinion about whatever story they were covering.  And for whatever reason, the Southern accent always seemed most pronounced in these people.  And lets be honest, this isn't exactly the Queen's English that you're hearing there. 

I posit that somewhere in my devious subconscious I linked the Southern accent with all of the things that I saw wrong with the South.  In my mind it became a stigma of all that I didn't want to be, or didn't want to be associated with.  And because of this, I made a subconscious but complete effort to rid myself of this telltale trademark of being a Southerner.  

I do want to take a moment (or an inch of virtual space) to make clear that the South is not a Bad Place.  The South has so much to be proud of:  An ocean warm enough to swim in, the Outer Banks, Key West, Miami, New Orleans, Charleston and Savannah, cyprus trees, Gullah, the Appalachian Mountains (an area that will forever possess a piece of my imagination), Mammoth Caves, and the Mississippi River.  These are just a small fraction of what comes to mind.  There is a great deal about the South that is remarkably unique and that you could never find anywhere else in the world.  But I, for some reason, have chosen a personal identity that does not fit with much of the mindsight that I find there.  And since living in Portland, the differences have become glaring, like night and day, white and black, or Santa Clause and John McCain (I don't know, I said free-association didn't I??  And lets not forget the wine...). 

Essentially, the skinny of it is that because I wanted to assert this identity, one that is not racist, does not fear homosexuality or gay marriage, does not subscribe to a fundamental Christian belief system (though I do love God), and does not fear the unknown.  I wanted to distance myself from what I saw (whether right or wrong) as the regional embodiment of all that I disagreed in and found to be currently wrong with our Country.  

So there you have it folks!  The not-so-short of it, the explanation that I never fully gave, here for your viewing, cursing, criticizing, or ignoring pleasure.