Half breed

I am a half breed and it’s only recently that I realized it. What do I mean ‘halfbreed”? I mean that I have one foot in one world and the other in another world. It was Rick Bragg’s “The Prince of Frogtown” that brought me that revelation, thank you very much.

You see, Rick Bragg hails from the same corner of Northern Alabama that I do. And many of the same kind of kin that make up one world. Blue collar folks who worked in the cotton mills and the steel mills, the garages and in the cotton fields and on the farms of that patch of earth. Hard working, good hearted, quick tempered, hard drinking, plain-speaking, deep-in-the-heart-of-the-South people who would give the shirt off their backs if you needed it.

Folks who are saved by the Blood of Jesus kind of people. People who work with their hands and not their minds. People who dig their hands in the dirt and come up empty way too often and who are without two dimes to rub together way too much. Folks who are as common as dirt and damned proud of it. People who take pride in their great granddaddy and spend much time looking backward into the past as if it was sacred. People who believe the South didn’t lose the War. Appomattox was only a truce. People who are deeply patriotic and won’t allow nobody to say a mean thing about these United States within their ear shot, but don’t believe the government is worth a damn thing. People who are described in the song “I am a Way Faring Pilgrim” and who have a natural poetry about them if you look deep.

It is from this side of the mountain that I take my love of a good story and have a y’all vernacular. It is from these folk that I first came to love the Bible and its stories and its language, much like Eudora Welty describes in her memoir “One Writer’s Beginnings”. It’s from this side of the mountain that I have seen how hard life can be for the least of God’s children. It is from these folks that I acquired my sense of justice. And the belief that if Jesus was around he’d be on the working folk side of things.

Then there’s the other foot that seems to have very little in common with the first foot. It is a world where creativity and the mind matters. Where education matters and where there’s a whole big world out there to love and to see. The future is all filled with hope. It is a world where the government is a part of the solution. It is a world where science matters. It is a world of literature and art and music, not just country and gospel, but jazz and classical and rock and roll, and it’s a world of dance and theater.

Most of my life I have made my best effort to escape the first world and move completely into the second. It’s been a long, hard struggle. But there’s no fighting it. I am beginning to understand that both worlds make up the who I am. Somehow I think that this was much of the struggle D. H. Lawrence went through. He would always have that coal dust in his bones and there was never any getting away from it.

So my job is to bring these two halves together and make them into one whole, unique human being. Can I do it? I don’t think it’s done overnight and who knows the work may never be complete. But here’s to trying.

Have you ever felt you were apart of two different worlds?

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8 thoughts on “Half breed

  1. I feel it everyday. Most days I’m doing the splits; one foot planted in the west, the other in the east. (You can probably tell from the main picture on my blog.) I, too, grew up looking to shed my dirt roads, only to find I like/needed the dirt to stick. Here’s to half-breeds!

  2. I know what you mean. That mix of mud and blood that never quite leaves your veins. All its good and bad all mixed up like a gumbo soup. Leaving us with a fork to strain out the truths or fantasies and find some semblance of wholeness.

  3. Every day I live I feel the tug of two different worlds: the one I inhabited until I left home to go to college and the one I live now. And, Don, they are much as you describe your worlds. I feel some of the best parts of me — belief in the importance of family, a strong work ethic, a sense of morality, the love of stories — flow from my childhood, but I no longer fit comfortably and thoughtlessly in that world as I did when I was young. Thanks for a thoughtful post.

  4. Perhaps it’s stereotypical of me to be surprised to hear that you’re from the deep south but if you are trying to make present yourself as one unique human being, well, you’ve definitely done that much! Shouldn’t the song for the post be Halfbreed but Cher? Ha, ha!

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