Southern Black Girl Chronicles

This past weekend I visited my family to celebrate my aunt's 60th b'earth day. Yes, I do know the correct spelling of birth and day. I just choose to acknowledge our connection to the earth, but I digress...While spending time laughing, eating, dranking, talking and loving my family, I came to a realization: no one has truly written about what it means to be a Southern Black Girl. Or maybe they have and I missed it...I have yet to read about MY experience....

So here I go....

Now some would argue that I'm not really from the south, being from Virginia and all. However, I like to remind people that the Commonwealth was the seat of the confederacy. And, every time I get closer to my hometown, I'm given a BIG ol' welcome home by the confederate flags (I intentionally did NOT capitalize confederate). While Virginia isn't the Deep South, it is in fact the South. I must admit, I'm not country; however, I fashion myself a "Southerner." There is a difference and everyone has an opinion. I'll just day I'm a "Southerner" who has country moments and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Some of my favorite memories growing up involved catching lightning bugs, bringing home a turtle from the local creek, sitting on a front porch talking and ear hustling the adults. This weekend as I was blessed to spend time with my 91 year old grandmother and family and my aunt's close friends, I truly appreciated my upbringing. I grew up in a college town, where my family integrated the neighborhood, a neighborhood that still has less than five families of color. However, I spent most of my summers in my parent's hometown, which was more urban than my hometown. Summers there I thought were magical. From visiting my great-aunt's house where there was always a fresh poundcake and for my grandmother to get eggs from her chickens, to playing with my cousins outside until the streetlights came on (something I could apprecia