Gittin' Above My Raisin'

Contrary to what some of my friends from Michigan think, the title of this post does not refer to anything related to dried fruit. Bless their Yankee hearts, you just can't help but love 'em!

Nope. This is what people in the South say to you right after they mention something about you being all "high falutin'." My transformation began in the 6th grade, and was completed sometime around my sophomore year of high school. How do you nearly get kicked north of the Mason-Dixon line and invited not to come back? Allow me to explain...

My 6th grade teacher began the process. Her name was Mrs. Blunsche. I will never forget her. The first day of class, she went to great pains to show us how to spell her name. She was from Indiana. She was not impressed with our speech. Not even a little. In fact, she made it a point to drill into us that people would not perceive us to be intelligent if we continued to speak this way. She also said that cursing was what people did when they lacked a good vocabulary, but somehow that particular lesson never sunk in.... She vowed that we would learn to speak proper English before we left her class. Well, I was your typical nerd. I wanted to be intelligent. So that comment really struck me, and I decided it was time to make some changes.

Imagine my parents' surprise when I came home talking about tires, fires, gas, and "over there." Allow me to translate those back into my native tongue (in order) so that you can truly appreciate the difference...tar, far, gace, and o'vare. This was huge. What were they teaching me in that school?! The whole parent-teacher fiasco began. Mrs. Blunsche stood her ground. It didn't matter, anyway. The seed had been planted, and I had already made up mind. I was going to sound intelligent if it killed me. My family thought I was turning my back on them, that I wasn't proud enough of my heritage to talk like they did. I was gittin' above my raisin'! It was the talk of every family get-together. I was gonna grow up and forget where I came from....

I still have a definite Southern accent, no denying it. But from then on, I tried to enunciate and "sound intelligent." I am now 38 years old. And my family STILL talks about my speech every time I go home for a visit. Make no mistake...these people never forget!