Okay, it might just be me, but when I move to a new place I have a (secret) internal social scavenger hunt that starts up. It will probably sound nutz and I may be completely alone, but it's true. When I have satisfied this list, it's like I can finally take a deep breath and cozy in to my new digs.
The funny thing is that I didn't realize that I do it until today. You might just share this little quirk, who knows. Here is a quick recap of mine.
I drove into downtown Lafayette (which is kind of an oxymoron, but whatevs, it is what it is) to find dirty gas stations, Church's chicken restarants and narrow streets. Cool, I think, that's like Ybor City -- hometown digs. Of course, here no one is speaking Spanish.
As I moved into Youngsville, things got country. Real country. I'm talking beaters, jalopies and frame houses nestled in sugar cane fields. Cool, I think, my family is from Groveland and Wildwood. Been here, done this.
I pull into my street and I start to feel my lungs constricting. I don't know this mix. Not personally, at least. There are turn of the century homes, 1960 ranch style (like mine), what looks to be an antebellum mansion diagonally behind me and a row of mobile homes scattered in the mix.
Um. I don't know about this.
As the day progresses, I see random dogs running up and down their property and shirtless barefoot kids throwing rocks for fun.
Um. I don't know about this.
There are other things that make me feel uneasy, like I am most certainly not in Kansas (or Texas or Florida to be more precise) anymore. Things that remind me that not only am I in the country, but I am in the deep South, like folks that seem alien in style, presence and possibly even mindset.
I start to feel like I can't breathe. What have I done? Where have I brought my family? I think of pressing questions, you know, the truly important stuff like where will I go to get my eyebrows thredded?
In the midst of my panic, we lunch in Southeast Lafayette. At McAlister's. Heck there is a McAlister's in Southlake. My friend Robin's husband works for them. McAlister's is in the Target shopping plaza. I know Target!
I waltz in, partially to get home stuff, partially to fulfill my need for the familiar, and it happens. I see a woman in workout clothes with three rambunctous boys orbiting her cart. Okay, people workout here. Check. I still haven't found a single gym with group ex, but these folks are working out somewhere & it's only a matter of time.
I see another with hombre-dyed hair, tan skin and a maxi tube top dress. Style. Check. I see a third chatting on a cell phone, her nails are done and she's mentioning grabbing sushi for lunch. Sushi. Check!
I see another African American woman with what appear to be threaded brows and a great hair cut (yes, silly stuff like that matters & no, it's not racist. I think it's normal to want to see your own identity mirrored in your environment.). I stalk her and get her stylist's information. Hair stylist. Check!
No dice on the threading, but it's early & hope springs eternal.
Somewhere between the bath mats & the broom, I feel my chest relax and my shoulders fall just a bit. This town may be foreign in a million ways but there are many, many things that feel like home.
As I exit the store, I look up and see a family: African American mom, white freckled dad in khakis, and two biracial boys bouncing around the pair. I don't know them from anywhere, but I look at them, full on. They seem harried and exhausted in ways that only suffering through Target with children can cause, but that's all. They don't look oppressed or tortured or praying for a way out of this town.
I realize that this is what I've been waiting for, for assurance that every quiet fear I've had about the potential for racism in this state, this town, this move may be a challenge, but it won't be the defining experience. As my breathing shifts into a fully relaxed state I realize that I have been waiting for this final thing on my unspoken checklist.
And I know. I know it will all be fine because I've got everything I need.
4 comments:
You are so good at tapping my hard-core cry-baby! I love you so much and you are outstanding ANYWHERE and EVERYWHERE!
I am so excited to learn more about the new adventures of the Slagles in LA!!
Your blog paints a vivid picture. I burst out into sheer laughter when you stated that 'dogs roamed freely in their yards' and 'kids were playing barefoot'....that is rural Florida!! Heck, I even played barefoot in the burbs. The beginning of a new chapter always brings about anxiousness, but once you get your grove going, the boys will be skate parking again (or barefoot in the street with a homemade wooden ramp....lol), you'll be 'Youngsville's Workout Diva', you and Scott will have 'date night' and I will log onto my FB account to read about the daily Kimmie adventures. ( : Love u!!
I love your blog! Goes to show you can find civility almost anywhere. Although, it does sound like you have stumbled into some inter-dimensional time warp. I look forward to hearing more about it! I miss you big!!!!!
I read this and laughed a bit... Actually thinking about my sister as she lived there 26 years ago and my parents sending gift packages in the mail with black beans, guava, etc... You know... Cuban necessities!
I almost knew what you were looking for even before you said it..but all I know is that Lafayette is a better place now because you and your family are there!! I love ya girl... Wish I could drag ya back to Tampa, but wishing you all the joy and blessings...
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