The following was part of an exercise that was used in a facilitator training session for SafeZone. I may be tweaking this until I get it right, but here is what I have for now. This is taken from Writing to Change the World.
I am from Mickey and Freda, Papaw Fitzpatrick and Virginia, Roger and Judy.
From Central Appalachia and mid-plateau of southern West Virginia, from old mountains and creeks / rivers full of hellbenders, bluegill, catfish, and copperheads. From dirt roads paved with "red dawg" and sprinkled with waste oil to keep down dust.From campsite stories of haints, Mothman and "The Mad Butcher of Fayette County."
From pots of brown beans, onions and butter, cornbread, venison, home grown maters, cucumbers and onions floating in vinegar, and poke salit.
From fiercely self sufficient stock, extreme poverty, and Jesus only with ciggies and backey spitoons made from Folgers coffee cans.
From large extended families, 2nd and 3rd cousins all accounted for, all are welcomed.
From slow hillbilly drawls, exaggerated inflection and diction, "bless your heart," "ole" instead of "oil," and "West-by-Gawd Virginia."
From no dancin', no drankin', no card playin' Church of God indoctrination, week long revivals, farmers, coal miners, and grannies in their house dresses.
From whippoorwills playing hide-n-seek with their soft voices in the evening field, fireflies in the summer, water hole swimming, and dark and starry nights framed against the blackness of the mountains.
From fundamentalist upbringing with all that fatalism that comes along with it, fear of damnation, and feelings not acknowledged but pushed way down deep and cast out in the name of Jesus.
To slow but sure evolution and growth, growing underground in the dark until enough courage and will to peek out and venture above the surface, to grow, to flourish, to flower.
I am from Mickey and Freda, Papaw Fitzpatrick and Virginia, Roger and Judy.
From Central Appalachia and mid-plateau of southern West Virginia, from old mountains and creeks / rivers full of hellbenders, bluegill, catfish, and copperheads. From dirt roads paved with "red dawg" and sprinkled with waste oil to keep down dust.From campsite stories of haints, Mothman and "The Mad Butcher of Fayette County."
From pots of brown beans, onions and butter, cornbread, venison, home grown maters, cucumbers and onions floating in vinegar, and poke salit.
From fiercely self sufficient stock, extreme poverty, and Jesus only with ciggies and backey spitoons made from Folgers coffee cans.
From large extended families, 2nd and 3rd cousins all accounted for, all are welcomed.
From slow hillbilly drawls, exaggerated inflection and diction, "bless your heart," "ole" instead of "oil," and "West-by-Gawd Virginia."
From no dancin', no drankin', no card playin' Church of God indoctrination, week long revivals, farmers, coal miners, and grannies in their house dresses.
From whippoorwills playing hide-n-seek with their soft voices in the evening field, fireflies in the summer, water hole swimming, and dark and starry nights framed against the blackness of the mountains.
From fundamentalist upbringing with all that fatalism that comes along with it, fear of damnation, and feelings not acknowledged but pushed way down deep and cast out in the name of Jesus.
To slow but sure evolution and growth, growing underground in the dark until enough courage and will to peek out and venture above the surface, to grow, to flourish, to flower.
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