Most of the time I think of myself as a citizen of Earth. Occasionally I reflect on the fact that I live in the Western Hemisphere in North America in the United States. I frequently think of myself as residing in the Southeastern U.S. in the state of Tennessee. To be more accurate, I live in central East Tennessee.
Almost everyday I identify as Appalachian. Culturally, genetically, and, last of all, geographically, I am what is derisively referred to as a hillbilly. Try doing that with other ethnic groups.
Having been raised in a small town steeped in Southern Baptist tradition, I have been fighting their rhetoric of hate all of my life. I am grateful that as of late, there are others who have joined in this struggle against the Christian supremacists that rule with an iron fist in these parts.
I was required to learn bible verses (all new testament stuff) in order to progress from one grade to the next in elementary school. I believe they took that cue from some ancient fellow who basically said to "get 'em while they're young, and they'll be yours forever."
Fortunately that tactic didn't work on me.
Today I spent some time in my front garden. I don't have a "yard." It is my anglophilic gardening streak and my stubborn fire sign influences that make me emphasize right here, right now that a "yard" is a measure of garden soil. My front garden is much more than that.
The plants that grow in the front garden are my solace and hope. They keep me going when other things fail. They are a source of beauty and comfort.
They are also a way for me to thumb my nose at the culture that mandates homage to a patriarchal god on the day of the week named for the sun god of old.
There are far fewer weeds in my garden today than there were yesterday.
Take that, Jerry Falwell!
