Life in the Southern Drawl Closet

When you think of "coming out of the closet", what comes to mind?  Seven times out of ten, you'll think someone is admitting their attraction to their own gender, while the other three times you'll think someone is coming out as transgender.  The fact is, there are far more closets that people hide parts of themselves in to avoid scrutiny than less-than-common sexual orientations or gender identities.  Anything can be hidden, from political views to television shows we enjoy to which sports teams we support, and all of it is hidden to avoid scrutiny.  Among these things, surprisingly, is what accent we prefer to use if said accent is unpopular.  I recently realized I was living in what I call the Southern Drawl Closet, and I'm hoping that by sharing my experiences I can find others who have encountered the same.

How did I discover I was in said closet?  It started one day when I had the house to myself, and I decided to indulge in a pleasure I've rarely been able to enjoy: talking dirty aloud.  Strangely enough, though, as I started, I noticed I wasn't relaxed.  Something was still keeping me a bit tense.  Then, like a bolt of lightning, something dropped away instantly, and I began talkin durty with an Oh-zark acceant.  Even more interesting was, after I had...ahem, finished...I had a strong desire to keep speaking in this accent, and anyone who knows me will tell you I very rarely enjoy speaking aloud.  For about an hour, I just talked to myself aloud in an Ozark accent, and I don't even remember what about.  For the first time in my life, I enjoyed talking, and after making a recording of myself speaking with this accent, I finally understood why.

All of my life, I've spoken with hard, trailing "r" sounds in my words (think of words like, well, word).  For a while, even before this revelation, I kept audio journals, and when I went back into those journals to title them by date for organization purposes, I always felt embarrassed by how I sounded.  It also contributed, among other reasons, to my taciturn nature, which has made making friends very difficult.  Going back and listening to my first recording of me talking in my Ozark accent, I find I'm no longer embarrassed by how I sound.  I sound like a normal person, albeit in an Ozark accent, and I actually enjoy how I sound.

So, did I start walking around sounding like a copy-and-paste hillbilly? Not quite.  As much as I loved speaking in an Ozark accent, I knew it wouldn't be received very well by the people on whom I rely for housing and food: my grandparents.  While my grandmother is from southern Illinois, she worked in Kansas City and raised my mother in a suburb.  As such, she wasn't raised with much of an accent.  I was raised in a small town a little further south of where she was raised, about half-way between the northern and southern borders of Missouri.  Even though I lived in a small town, most of my friends didn't speak with much of an accent.  A few did, and they were made fun of for it.  It wasn't until I moved down to Webb City, which is the closest to a suburb Joplin currently has, that I encountered the stronger Ozark accent.  Its influence became even stronger when I went to school in Rolla, which is about half-way between Springfield MO and St. Louis.  Even though I had the trailing "r" for a while, the full-fledged Ozark accent wasn't a normal part of my speech, and since my family can be incredibly judgmental, I haven't spoken with it much.  I had a cousin with whom I could sound as hick as I pleased, but since she's moved I haven't found friends with whom I can speak in this accent.  Just as we need people who will be comfortable with our sexuality, we need people who will be comfortable with our speech.

I've had a few slip-ups, which I jokingly refer to as "Drawl Incontinence", where I'll say something in an Ozark accent without meaning to.  I haven't taken a good listen to how I sound when talking with my grandparents, but I wouldn't be surprised if a bit more Ozark is slipping through than before.  Hopefully I can get to the point where I talk with ease without having to deal with their resulting bullshit, but it's not likely.  I just want to talk without parsing every word that comes out of my mouth to make sure it doesn't sound too country.

I guess for now I'll just enjoy my drawl on my own.

Educating and Dumbing Down America...At the Same Time

Today, while on Facebook, I looked over at the trending topics area and noticed an article about four new elements being confirmed.  It can be found here.  It's a decent article, considering it's only intent is to inform people about the confirmation of four new elements.

Then I noticed the edit section:

• This article was amended on 4 January 2016. The reference to the new elements being “manmade” was changed to “synthetic” to follow Guardian style guidance on the use of gender-neutral terms.

That thumping you hear is my head banging against a wall.  Ironically, in an article designed to enhance the public's education, the exact opposite is happening as well, by banning any term that can be considered "non gender-neutral".

Let's take a look at the phrase "man-made".  Its definition is an object made by humans, not an object made by males.  The term 'man' is used to refer, collectively, to all humans, as it is a shortening of the word human.  It is not sexist to use the term man-made, as the only intention behind the use of the word is to refer to the human race collectively, not only men.  It was completely appropriate and non-offensive to use the term man-made in this article, but it was changed to discourage people from pissing themselves off.

To go out of one's way to change problematic wording in an article when there is, in fact, so such problematic wording, is ridiculous. To announce it on the page like it's some amazing feat of consideration, when it's nothing more than a dumbing-down of the general population, is worse.  What should have been an informative article became yet another event in the national pity party called political correctness, and in doing so, lost any respect it might have garnered as an informative article.  I, for one, will never take the Guardian seriously again.