The Uppity Northerner

I already know that at least one person is going to hate me for this post, but I’m going to do it anyway. Stacey, you know I love you.

If, like me, you were born-and-raised in the South and went to college here, you know at least one Uppity Northerner.

Y’all know what I’m talking about. The Uppity Northerner is that kid from anywhere further north than Richmond, Virginia or Kentucky that decided it’d be awesome to get out of New York City/Philadelphia/Boston/Newark/wherever and go to school “down there.” Once they got here, however, the South was no longer this mystical land alive with the sound of banjoes or whatever it is that they tell kids up North to make them curious about life below the Mason-Dixon (or a little lower than that, as we don’t really claim anyone from higher than Richmond). One day they just wake up and suddenly the South is hell on Earth: there’s nothing to do, our food is horrible, our accents are stupid, it’s too damn hot, and we move too slow.

Everyone knows an Uppity Northerner. If you don’t, chances are it’s you.

I was fortunate enough to only have to deal with two or three Uppity Northerners during undergrad, but of course I ran into one first thing during orientation. Orientation’s been a few weeks ago now, but because I’m so bourgie I never forget when people say ridiculous things that I know to be untrue. It just amuses me. Let’s take a few minutes to address some of few of my favorite Uppity Northerner claims that are so outrageously false I can’t help but to laugh at them.

“It’s been a real culture shock. I think I adjusted better to Spain than I’m adjusting to South Carolina.” It’s funny you should say that, because Spanish culture and Southern culture really aren’t all that different. We’re all outgoing, overly-friendly people that like to take naps in the middle of the day and eat lots of fried food and make our own liquor (probably in a bathtub). Sangria, anyone?

“My crazy racist neighbor—” That never leads to anything good (or true). Your neighbor is racist. Do not turn your crazy racist neighbor into all Southerners. Yes, there are racist Southerners, but I will point out that I experienced more racism in 2 months of living in Cincinatti than in 22 years of living in Greenville. This got to be funny after I realized that a lot of Northerners don’t think that they (or their neighbors) are capable of being racist for no other reason but that they’re from the North. Bless them.

“-scoff- You guys don’t have traffic.” In cities not the size of Detroit or New York City, complete stand stills do not happen. Just because it doesn’t take us 2 hours to go a block and a half does not mean we don’t have traffic. Any time I have to wait for a stop light to turn three times before I finally make it through, I am in traffic. This is funny because some people are just that petty. Why are we even arguing over this? It’s TRAFFIC.

“I moved here for the experience.” I mean, I guess that in a sense every new place you go is a new experience, but why do people always make us sound like Disneyland? If we are Disneyland, can I be a princess? I really want to be a princess.

“There are no [insert specific nationality] people here!” Yes there are. You’re just not looking hard enough. It’s diverse ‘round here. I always get a giggle out of this one because you see more diversity in Greenville in a day than I did in two months of living in Cincinatti. And Maryland. And Europe.

And last, but certainly not least, my absolute favorite:

“Do you know what [Southerners] say about the Civil War? They still call it The War of Northern Aggression.”

What? Is this a thing? Fellow Southerners, tell me: is this a thing? Twenty-two years I’ve lived in the South and never once have I heard “The War of Northern Aggression.” Know who I hear that from? Uppity Northerners telling other non-Southerners that actual Southerners still call it “The War of Northern Aggression.” If anything, it was The War of Southern Aggression. We are not as nice as we pretend to be.

Making fun of Uppity Northerners is really the only way I can keep from punching them in the face. Well, that and knowing lots of random facts that can refute most of the points they raise. Why can’t people just know what they’re talking about before they open their mouths? Is that too much to ask?

Don’t answer that.