A Southern POV: Standing Up and Standing Out*

I come from a long line of Southern women who didn’t mind standing out. 

Sometimes it was for fun. Sometimes for principle. This came down to me from a grandmother who dressed as she felt her faith commanded, no matter who criticized her. From a great aunt would didn’t care that her outfit didn’t match anyone else’s. 

Mother, seated, front row left.

And from ancestors who could not afford any other path or had the luxury of another choice--there have been many eras, especially in the South, when being an advocate for yourself or your family was a matter of survival. My grandmother fed hobos when no one else would because the Depression had put good people on the road looking for work. She campaigned to be the overnight host for a gas line inspector every month, because the stipend from his company sometimes meant the difference in getting bills paid. 

The willingness to stand up and out also came down to me from a mother who embraced her brains when it wasn’t “cool” to be one of the smart girls, and who firmly supported my own efforts to stand out and be noticed. She encouraged my writing, my acting, and my advocacy for daughter.

And yet I’m an introvert at my baseline, which means I get my energy from solitude and reflection.

It doesn’t mean I’m shy or that I can’t stand in front of 300 people and make a speech or perform in a play. Ask me about my daughter, and I can deliver passion to 1,000 people without blinking. Ask me about my writing—same thing. And my faith.

Playing Vera, the mom in Smoke on the Mountain. The infamous "June bug" speech. For those unfamiliar with the play, I'm about to demonstrate God's grace with a June bug. It doesn't go well.

Not everyone can, and that’s okay. We all have our own gifts: some are better at numbers, or concepts, or children. I’d much rather talk to 300 adults than 5 kindergartners. I have a friend who’s a virtual kid whisperer. Another who’s a serious visionary, who can spot trends and put together cause-and-effect issues like no one I’ve ever met. Another whose intellect sometimes astounds me, even if she’s unwilling to see it in herself.

Utilizing our gifts has always been beneficial to our lives as well as our souls. And now we’ve entered a season in which speaking up for what we believe is more vital than in recent years. I don’t believe it’s easy—I may like the spotlight but I am confrontation adverse—but there are usually ways in which we can use our gifts to spread the word. Some are quieter than others. But they all service to enrich our community—and ourselves.

So I hope you’ll be willing to stand up—and out—in your own way and in your own time.

*adapted from a Facebook note published in 2016.