A Perspective on Feminism from the South

In July last year (2008) I traveled from Seattle to Georgia for the express purpose of meeting Southerners. Of all kinds. It’s a long story as to why I ended up interested in this topic, by suffice it to say, my trip to Georgia is the first in what I hope will be a much larger project looking at the perceptions and misconceptions Northerners have about the South. Below is an excerpt from a chat I had with a woman who is quite possibly the epitome of a Southern Belle.

On a warm Saturday morning, we gathered at the home of a woman whose family had been in the Madison, Georgia area for generations. Viviane lives in a development a few minutes away from the town square in a lovely little brick home with a well maintained, but browning lawn. I didn’t realize when I traveled to Georgia, a place I think of as damp and humid, that the state, along with much of the South was experiencing one of the worst droughts in decades – affecting not just lawns, but the substantial farming community as well.

We retired to the sitting room, a room steeped in her family traditions and mementos, with sweet tea. And let me tell you, the lilting cadence of a true Southern accent isn’t something Hollywood created – in fact I don’t think they’ve ever done it justice. Viviane, as she talked about growing up in the Madison area, her family and how they survived The War (and yes, when they say The War down South, it’s always in capital letters and it always means the Civil War), could have charmed a snake with her accent.

We talked a lot about the women of the South. She pointed out that Southern women were not only left during The War (when their husbands, brothers, fathers and sons went to fight) but, unlike the Northern women, Southern women also had to defend their homes and families. They became soldiers in their own right fighting, in what ways they could, to protect what they valued, home and hearth. And while this might conjure up images of Scarlet protecting Tara, it was about much more than this. Homes were and are a symbol of family sovereignty, but from a purely practical perspective, these women were fighting to have a roof over their head for themselves and their families. I’m sure they wanted to and did try to save as many family heirlooms as possible, but you can’t tell me that between a cherished piece of family silver or food for her baby, any of these women picked the silver. They needed their homes for shelter and they needed their land for food and they did what they could to make sure that they had both.

And when it was all over, and when there was, literally in some places, nothing left but ashes, they had to rebuild and survive. If they were lucky, their men survived and came home, but many, like some of Viviane’s relatives were left widowed and fatherless. If they could, the women rebuilt. If it wasn’t possible they did whatever else they could to provide for their families. Viviane’s grandmother (several ‘greats’ back) became a teacher in one of the first schools for black children.

After hearing all this and gaining a different understanding of the impact The War had on the women of the South, I asked her what she thought about the Northern stereotype of the Southern woman – the idea that feminism just passed the whole region by.

She laughed and said something like this: “Honey, feminism didn’t come here because it didn’t need to.”