The BCS football game has brought out some very ugly and disturbing feelings in me this week that surprised even me. It wasn't the outcome of the game, really. I'm not really into football, and I'm not a true Duck fan quite yet. However, I did root strongly against Auburn, based on principle. What principle, you may ask? I view Auburn as representative of the American South, and I will never support any team or school or pretty much anything else from that region.
I grew up in the south, outside of Atlanta, to be specific. I spent my formative years there, moving there from Cincinnati at age 4 and getting the hell out at 17. I was very lucky that my parents could afford to send me to college by the time I finished high school (the only one of 4 that went) and that they were Ohioans by birth, so they were willing to send me to Ohio State. I was anxious even then to get out of the south. I left for school near the end of my 17th year, and, except for summers and breaks, I never returned.
For me, it's not just that racism is still rampant there and everywhere else in the south. It's not just that politics are ultraconservative there and go against the values I hold so dear. It's not just that the religious right is prevalent, judgmental, and unforgiving there. It's not just that being passive-aggressive is an accepted approach to others there. No, those things are all very important in forming my opinions about the South, but they pale in comparison to traumatic events that occurred during my childhood there. It doesn't matter what those events were, really. It only matters that they are linked forever in my heart to my life there and my view of that part of the country.
I have two good friends, two brothers, a sister, and parents still living there, and if not for some of those people, I probably wouldn't visit there at all. It leaves me feeling that much disgust, that I would be willing to write certain people out of my life to be able to avoid going there.
Is that an irrational way to think of an entire region? Perhaps. However, I think it might just be my way of protecting myself in the long term. It's not like I don't remember my past, but I don't need to relive it by having to be exposed to the sources of painful memories.
So there it is. Yes, I was a bit unreasonable in my disgust for Oregonians that would stoop so low as to support Auburn, but there is an underlying reason. And I have to say I think it's a better reason that those people had for supporting that team.
Showing posts with label Oregon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oregon. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Sunday, July 25, 2010
My Mid-life Whatever
About two years ago, what I have been referring to as my mid-life crisis began. At right about that time, my whole world and future changed radically. The trigger was our decision for my husband to accept a job in Salem, Oregon, which meant we would be moving across the country from our home in Cincinnati, Ohio, far away from everyone and everything we knew up to that point.
When we made the decision, we were feeling a little disconnected from the community in which we lived, we were both dissatisfied with our jobs, and we knew that we had always wanted to move west. In addition, we knew that a major chapter in our relationship would be ending as we awaited the inevitable death of our dog from cancer she'd been fighting for a year already.
The agreement was that my husband would begin working for this company to help them open a plant in southern Kentucky, 2-1/2 hrs from home, and eventually we would make the transition to Oregon when we were ready. This meant I would be alone 4 days a week every week, while my husband stayed in an apartment near his job, coming home on weekends. So during this time, we had to prepare our house for sale in a shaky market and watch our dog die, and I had to decide what I was going to do for a job when we moved.
I think all of that spurred me, a basically introverted person that shared my deepest feelings with very few people, even in times of great need, to change into someone that was unrecognizable. Knowing I was leaving, I began to try to cultivate relationships more earnestly than I had before, and at the same time, I began to take risks and move outside my comfort zone in a way I never had. I went from someone that hid my innermost feelings from almost everyone, sometimes even my husband, to someone that was more open and honest about my feelings than some wanted me to be.
I felt lost, and that's why I always referred to it as my mid-life crisis. However, as I look back on that period, that is starting to become a memory, I realize that it might have been a mid-life re-discovery, rather than a crisis. I opened myself to a lot of new things, but I also spent a lot of time trying to be what I thought other people wanted me to be or what I thought other people would like. So in some ways, this was a good experience, because it forced self-examination on me, and I moved outside of my own box of what I was supposed to be to evaluate all my assumptions and beliefs about myself and others. On the other hand, sometimes my self-examination led to a wholly self-centered attitude, in which I neglected those close to me in my efforts to be someone different.
As the time to move grew near, I didn't want to leave Cincinnati. Even after we moved, I clung to new and old friendships and my memories of my home there desperately. Only very recently have I started to accept my new home and appreciate it. The people in Salem are wonderful, and this is really a great place to live. On the whole, I am actually very happy living here, and I am glad we had the courage to make such a change.
I am not sure I am entirely through this mid-life process yet, but I am on the tail end of it at least, and I have learned a lot about myself from it. I now know that there is no peace in trying to be something I am not in my heart. My true nature has to be allowed to come through, and I have to realize that the rest will fall into place, regardless of where I live. There will always be some people that accept and understand me for who I really am, as well as those don't. The former are the ones that matter to me.
When we made the decision, we were feeling a little disconnected from the community in which we lived, we were both dissatisfied with our jobs, and we knew that we had always wanted to move west. In addition, we knew that a major chapter in our relationship would be ending as we awaited the inevitable death of our dog from cancer she'd been fighting for a year already.
The agreement was that my husband would begin working for this company to help them open a plant in southern Kentucky, 2-1/2 hrs from home, and eventually we would make the transition to Oregon when we were ready. This meant I would be alone 4 days a week every week, while my husband stayed in an apartment near his job, coming home on weekends. So during this time, we had to prepare our house for sale in a shaky market and watch our dog die, and I had to decide what I was going to do for a job when we moved.
I think all of that spurred me, a basically introverted person that shared my deepest feelings with very few people, even in times of great need, to change into someone that was unrecognizable. Knowing I was leaving, I began to try to cultivate relationships more earnestly than I had before, and at the same time, I began to take risks and move outside my comfort zone in a way I never had. I went from someone that hid my innermost feelings from almost everyone, sometimes even my husband, to someone that was more open and honest about my feelings than some wanted me to be.
I felt lost, and that's why I always referred to it as my mid-life crisis. However, as I look back on that period, that is starting to become a memory, I realize that it might have been a mid-life re-discovery, rather than a crisis. I opened myself to a lot of new things, but I also spent a lot of time trying to be what I thought other people wanted me to be or what I thought other people would like. So in some ways, this was a good experience, because it forced self-examination on me, and I moved outside of my own box of what I was supposed to be to evaluate all my assumptions and beliefs about myself and others. On the other hand, sometimes my self-examination led to a wholly self-centered attitude, in which I neglected those close to me in my efforts to be someone different.
As the time to move grew near, I didn't want to leave Cincinnati. Even after we moved, I clung to new and old friendships and my memories of my home there desperately. Only very recently have I started to accept my new home and appreciate it. The people in Salem are wonderful, and this is really a great place to live. On the whole, I am actually very happy living here, and I am glad we had the courage to make such a change.
I am not sure I am entirely through this mid-life process yet, but I am on the tail end of it at least, and I have learned a lot about myself from it. I now know that there is no peace in trying to be something I am not in my heart. My true nature has to be allowed to come through, and I have to realize that the rest will fall into place, regardless of where I live. There will always be some people that accept and understand me for who I really am, as well as those don't. The former are the ones that matter to me.
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