The
United States is a vast country with a variety of people and types of
people. I love that about this country
and through the years I’ve learned to code switch all right but I would have to
say I’m really in love with the people who call themselves Rednecks. Rednecks are presumed to be stupid and
unrefined, knowing only the locale of their residency and its back woods ways.
By that definition, though, we all can feel free to be categorized as such. Of
course the simpler life of the rural parts of our country would stereo-typically
mean that the people of that area would by its very nature be Rednecks. But there are plenty of urbanely “refined”
people who are as ignorant or more ignorant of the rural areas of our vast
country and quite stupid concerning those things, therefore fitting that
definition of Redneck—except they might spend enough time in a tanning booth to
be more evenly “reddened.”
For
me, Redneck is a term of endearment. I
love the loggers, ranchers and cowboys I’ve always lived with along with the
blue collar workers of the cities. Those people make sense to me. They enjoy
life as much as anyone. I can say this freely because I consider myself to be a
Redneck. Sure, I can code-switch and
enjoy a conversation about plays and books because I love those things too. Bu
I also love trees, making things with my hands, cattle and riding horses or
riding four wheelers or snowmobiles. The
divide we speak of in our country is stupid. People are people and when we don’t
agree and allow ourselves to be polarized because of it we are refusing to
understand each other. I think the very
idea of a Redneck is beautiful. To be able to peacefully live with beauty
around you enjoying a beer while the rest of the world haggles over a painting
of that same beauty seems to be the best thing a person could have. Who needs a Picasso and a Chardonnay when you’ve
got a sunset over the plains and a Budweiser? That’s a Redneck. I’m a Redneck.
No comments:
Post a Comment