To
my amazement and unpleasant surprise, the planned merger with a group from
Boston was rejected by the school director who specifically asked in a lengthy
letter that his students not be forced to ride across northern Italy with
Mississippi students. The Bostonians were “elite students accompanied by highly
trained and educated faculty and did not want their enlightening experience to
be spoiled by country folk who were barely literate and did not wear shoes.” I
was surprised that the tour operator actually shared the letter from the Boston
school. Perhaps she was incensed by the tone as well. They were requesting a
different bus, despite the additional $15,000 cost. In the end, we were paired
with a nice group from Florida.
I
was familiar with the arrogance of people from other parts of the country who
felt superior and disdained Mississippians. I had encountered the
self-importance numerous times at various conferences. As soon as pompous
colleagues found out that we represented a Mississippi university, they
automatically deducted IQ points from our intelligence and tried to avoid us at
all costs. Rude remarks were made such as, “Oh, you’ve come a long way,” meant
figuratively, to which I would respond, “Yes, we’ve flown a great distance to
be here.”
Recently,
a Virginia state Senator, to whom I offered help with education issues, said to
me, “None of these people are going to take you seriously with 30 years of
teaching experience in Mississippi!”
I’ve
lived so long in the south, I consider myself a proud Mississippian, and it is
my adopted state. Many outstanding scientists, innovators, artists, actors,
musicians, writers, and famous TV personalities hailed from Mississippi. There
is something about the soil, the simpler life, the down to earth goodness that
breeds talent, kindness, generosity, and ingenuity. Southerners are hardy
people who seldom complain – they roll up their sleeves when asked to rise to
any occasion. They actually love their neighbors and help each other in times
of dire need. Nobody feels so superior that they cannot share a ride with
someone else.
The
two groups stayed in the same hotels and followed the same tour with the same
Italian guide. At some point, I knew that I would have the chance to speak to
the director from Boston. I got my opportunity in Venice when we were boarding
the water taxis for Piazza di San Marco.
I
had explored the credentials of the school, the director, and the faculty
member accompanying them and I was not particularly impressed. Our entire faculty
in Mississippi held Ph.D. degrees in their respective fields. Our students, with
ACT scores of 32-36 and a couple of perfect SAT scores, had consistently won
national recognition in mathematics, science, and language competitions. But
they were modest, happy, and salt of the earth children who adapted well in any
situation.
The director introduced himself. We shook hands and I described our school. Before we parted, I informed him that we were better trained, educated, and did not mind riding with them on the bus, that his ignorance, prejudice, and superiority airs made him look foolish, petty, and wasteful. I don’t think I changed his opinion; he was the typical product of an expensive liberal elite education that makes them feel superior to the rest of the world.
I
was so proud of my Mississippi students! They asked intelligent questions and
gave good answers during the tour. The Bostonians avoided us like the plague
and barely acknowledged our existence at breakfast time with a hello. It was painfully
evident that northern elitism bred contempt for their fellow man although their
rhetoric sounded so humanitarian and giving.
I’d
like to tell those with prejudices about the south that we do wear nice shoes
except on the beach or on a velvety field of grass, enjoying the sunshine. Although
it was mid-March, I walked with my daughter and a few students to the beach in
Lido and we took our shoes off – we wanted to feel the sand and the Adriatic
Sea. It was still cold for sun-bathing but perfect for momentary feelings of
joy to let the cold waves bathe our naked feet.
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