The good taste of Mama’s cooking,

a crisp sip of an ice cold sweet tea,

conversations with the sound of southern twang,

and tirelessly swimming through the thick humidity. 

I have left it behind.

The culture shock causes my hairs to stand. 

There is static in the air that stings my skin. 

Pulsing quickly, my heart echoes in my chest.

Beads of sweat form on my forehead,

this time not from the heat.

     Where are you from? I hear something in your voice!

Miss’ippi. I miss the southern hospitality. 

     Wow! Can you spell it? 

Yes. My accent fades.  

Can you spell Washington State? 

     Oh, you’re from the south?

     Are you a republican?

Some Midwestern dish flips in my stomach, 

and I’m not quite sure what to say.

I don’t know.

I call my mother through sobs over the phone.

Crying from miles away, I cannot receive her hugs.

her sweet southern sound calms my tension. 

You’ll be home soon enough. 

Remember where you came from.

I am Emma Grace - a name taken from the Bible. 

I have six dogs, three horses, and two cats.

I have worn a hat and boots, while my sister ran the barrels, 

and I don’t just wear boot cut jeans because they are cute.

I have tacked up the horses when my mother braided their maines.

Dust flying in the air as I brushed their coats. 

The horses would kick at the stalls and winnie loudly,

but the sound never startled me.

I have watched my sister from the fields,

swatting the mosquitoes that swarmed around me,

while she practiced her runs.

My boot cut blue jeans begged to be washed.

I have watched the sun go down as the horses were let in,

I have felt their hooves hit the ground as they ran towards the barn.

Their stalls freshly cleaned by my bare hands, 

and their troughs filled with feed scooped by my sister.

I have sang the national anthem in an arena, 

my sister down below holding the flag. 

I am proud of my country! 

I am proud of my state! 

I am from the Deep South. 

Born and raised in the Deep South.

Oh, how I love the Deep South. 

My heart will live and die, 

in the Deep South.