As a native Georgian, not a day goes by that I don’t regret moving to this state from where I was raised (Chicago, IL).
When I first arrived, the first thing that provoked me was how the people where I reside seemed to be so suspicious–and not welcoming of newcomers. I’m not a stranger. My family has been in Georgia for over 200 years. However, things change and sometimes you have to accept that.
The affects of slavers, Jim Crow, racial segregation and hatred, have left their impact on the people here and one should be warned if you are thinking of moving to this state.
Georgia is a beautiful state. There are things here that some can only see in photo magazines or in a zoo; but all I have to do is walk down the road or go to the beach and nature is right in your face. This I love, but it’s the only thing.
The basic perception I have of the people here is that there is some type of stronghold over them. Literally. You feel as though their behavior and actions are provoked by something far darker and deeper than what anyone can understand. They believe in the strangest things and just have minds that always condemn rather than embrace the differences of others.
Some of the people just seem to expect the worst from everyone. The least little thing offends them–and don’t you dare not speak your mind: you’ll be labled “biggitty”, code word for uppity Negro.
Many times when going out for personal errands or just to take a walk, the people seem curious as to why you are doing what you’re doing; as if it’s strange and I have to say this; some of the people here are absolutely some of the nosiest people I’ve ever encountered. I’ve been asked where I work, how long have I worked where I work, what time I leave for work, etc., etc. It galls me at times.
But what really irritates me is how many of the people here don’t have understanding of the simplest things and seem not to use their brains for much. If you want to witness this firsthand, just go to your local Wal-Mart self checkout. They talk to the machine, get mad at the machine, cuss out the attendant because they can’t understand the prompts on the machine, then want to complain to management because they had a hard time at self checkout machine. Didn’t they make the choice to go there? And then…they keep coming back to self checkout–repeating everything again. Can you say? Redundant?
The fights at the local Wal-Mart just border on the ridiculous. It’s where the locals hang out. They come in the store just looking for trouble. Hoping that someone will bump into them–so they can beat the hell out of somebody for taking the last Red Bull. You can see the look in their eyes. A few weeks ago, there was a shooting in the parking lot. Two guys got into a fight because one guy hit the other guy’s truck with his trailer hitch. There was almost another fight one time because this old white woman had the audacity to touch this Jamaican woman’s grocery–inspecting what she was buying. It almost went down. The Jamaican lady wasn’t having it. The old white woman didn’t have a clue–she almost got it that day.Another fight I remember was between two young women: The sister of this chick’s boyfriend got hit upside the head by her sister-in-law. She beat her in the face right in the produce section. And everyone watched. Another time, a man began yelling at a young guy for having sagging pants as he and his girlfriend came into the store. Again, right in front of the produce section. Are some of you seeing a pattern? Is there something about apples and oranges that make people go crazy? Everyone that goes to this particular Wal-Mart are so angry. And I can’t tell you how many times you have to wait in line because someone (who comes into the store regularly) forgets how to use the debit reader when swiping their debit/credit card.
Wal-Mart seems to be the epicenter of social life down here for some reason. People literally go back and forth to Wal-Mart…just because it’s there. They shop once in the morning. Then come back in the afternoon. Sometimes, after coming from the mall, they go back over to Wal-Mart. It’s really sad.
There isn’t much cultural activity down here–just white folks stuck in the past who only acknowledge each other, their accomplishments, and white privilege. The annual State fair gets them going…anticipating all of the crazy food they can eat, like fried peanut butter sandwiches or boiled peanuts with ham hocks. Honest to God; I’ve never seen so many 200-300 lb. people in my life but at the county fair; it’s as normal as a dog chasing a squirrel.
I’ve seen white folks display some of the most outlandish bigotry at Black people, but then again, I’ve seen many Black people down here who don’t respond correctly when they are blatantly disrespected by them. The Black people say nothing. Just go along subliminally and get angrier by the day.
There are days when I just don’t know what to think.
Honestly, in some of the counties down here; there are more high school drop outs than college graduates–and this has a very negative impact on the population as a whole.
I’m ready to move from this place. Even though it’s my place of birth; I don’t feel the love nor do I feel any sense of home–it’s not my home–just where I reside. Having a lot or relatives here does not buffer that.
Georgia is not on my mind…and Sweet Home Chicago is where I belong.
I’m outta here.