I am a New Jersey-born gal who moved with her family to the rural, southeastern United States at the ripe old age of nine. Even though I still lived in the contiguous 48 states, life in 1970s Franklin County, Virginia, the “Moonshine Capital of the World”, felt like an international relocation because of the many glaring regional differences. From four-lane freeways to narrow country roads, food cooked in olive oil to almost everything prepared with lard, the roaring rock of Bruce Springsteen to the honky-tonk tunes of Hank Williams, I had a lot to adapt to when it came to the finer points of this new southern landscape.
However, despite my youth (and Jersey pride), I quickly ascertained the most notable difference. As a general rule, southern women had a leg up on their northern sisters in one unique way: they could say anything, even the darndest things, and make it sound like a Shakespearean soliloquy.
A southern belle, for example, could walk up to a fellow and, with a smile on her face, purr in the loveliest lilt: “Sugar, you are so fat. You are the fattest thang.” But because of the way she spoke, her words were received fondly. The fellow would fawn over and thank her for bothering to spare the time and attention.
In contrast, if a New Jersey girl walked up to a boy and said, “Man, you are fat,” she could probably expect to receive any number of less-than-favorable retorts and at least one particular finger gesture in response. Ok, I exaggerate a little, but it doesn’t make my discovery any less accurate.
As a northern girl, I wondered why there was such a distinction. No doubt part of the difference stemmed from the inherent charm of the southern drawl, which, like sweet, thick syrup in appropriate doses, made anything more palatable. However, the genteel southern woman was also master of an even more powerful vocal cue: when delivering her message, good or bad, a southern gal knew how to wrap her words in a warm, positive intonation (genuine or not), which made it more pleasing to her audience.
“Sue Ellen, bless her heart, looked like one hot mess at church on Sunday. The Good Book does say the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away sometimes.”
Well, maybe not everything could be sugar-coated.
Still, the southern women I knew would certainly try to sweeten even the sourest sentiment. They appreciated that the way something was delivered spoke louder than actual words ever could. This is a simple concept to understand but so very difficult to practice at times.
Today, unlike my nine-year-old self, I actually live in a foreign land. In fact, I have lived in three countries besides my own. Overall, I’ve found the experience to be a fantastic adventure, but there are days when nothing seems easy. In the expat world, cultural and communication differences present unique challenges requiring patience and a flexible spirit. Oh yes, there are occasions I just want to go all out “Jersey Shore” on someone. In those moments, I try to remember the lessons of my youth, and instead speak with all the charm I can muster. This effort alleviates problems and makes me feel better in the process.
I wouldn’t have thought it when I was young, but this Jersey gal has moments when she would give anything for a flaky biscuit that only a nice heap of lard can create. To this day, I go weak at the knees on that rare occasion when I hear a Hank Williams song on Singaporean radio. But no matter where I go and regardless of how confusing and inconvenient my situation is, I try to keep the lesson of a Southern education in the forefront of my mind: an easy smile, a sense of humor, and a happy inflection can make a difference when you have to navigate and negotiate, literally another world.
