No, I’m Not From Oklahoma

Yes, I am from the Sooner state of Oklahoma and now that famous song from the musical “Oklahoma” is popping in my head.  I moved to California quite a while ago, but every time someone hears I am from Okieland, I know the jokes are going to start coming and those country accents.  Contrary to belief, not everyone from the Midwest sounds like a “hick” or says things like “Whooo, wee” and “Y’all.”  I have never cow-tipped in my life, I didn’t grow up on a farm, I don’t even know where to find a piece of wheat to chew on it, I didn’t go around barefoot, and you cannot shoot a mosquito with a shot gun.  Being a representative of that state, I can tell you that I have tried my dandiest to dispel those types of stereotypes and misconceptions.  I will admit, there have been times I have been embarrassed to call  myself an Okie, especially around election time, but like the saying goes, “never forget where you came from,” I will never forget because it shaped who I am today.  I was raised in an environment that encouraged education, respect, loyalty, love, silliness, being a good citizen, and standing up for what you believe in.  So in essence, I can’t knock my roots, because I am my roots.  Then there are incidents like what happened a few years ago, that make me deny my rootage (a word?).  Here is the story:

A few years after moving away from the good ol’ Land of the Red People (what Oklahoma translates to- thanks history class), I went back for a visit.  Now prior to this visit, I have never denied being from Oklahoma.  If someone asked me or in conversation I would volunteer the information because I like to talk about myself (who doesn’t?), then I would proudly reveal that yes I in fact am from Oklahoma.  Then I would wait from the little chuckles and make some jokes myself, and all in good humor.  This time was different.  My hubby and I decided to go to Subway for lunch, nothing fancy, just wanted a delicious club with all the fix in’s(Okie talk).  We proceeded to go to the counter and placed the usual order… 6 inch subway club on wheat bread, provolone cheese, light on lettuce, a few pickles, mayo/mustard, oil and vinegar with extra vinegar.  I didn’t notice any avocados, so I thought that they must have run out or had some more in the back.  I asked the guy behind the counter, “Do you have any avocados?” and he gave me this look like I asked him what he thought about the US foreign policy.  He looked outraged and then gave me one of those swanky kind of grins and then squealed, “A-VA-CA-DA?Y’all aren’t from around here are ya?”  He said it in a way that was the most stereotypical, hickish way you could imagine.  I cowardly responded, “No, we aren’t, we are from CALIFORNIA!”

For the first time in my life, I could not admit that I was in fact from there.  I couldn’t help it, I was always trying not to be like that kind of “Okie” because people judge you if you are a little too country, they assume you are not educated or have a backwards type of thinking.  Now I know better and don’t really care if someone makes that kind of assumption because I gots my edumacation and backward thinking types do not exist in accents, or certain states, cultures, or one particular country, they are everywhere and one of them could be your neighbor!  (Wooo, scary)  I’ve learned to be proud of who I am and where I came from.  That is what makes me unique in this sea of surfers, parking lot attendees (traffic), and celebrity stalkers.  Also, when bands come along like “Kings of Leon,” it makes me really proud of what Oklahoma soil can breed.  On a side note: if you haven’t heard all their songs because you have been under a rock like I have, listen to them and play them over and over again.  They are incredible and when they get their stuff together and have another concert, my hubby better make it happen.

I will close with the song that has been in my head while writing this that way You can have it stuck in your head all day.

Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweeping down the plains.  And the waving wheat, it sure smells sweet…” and then my mind cuts to… “O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A, Oklahoma, OK!”

You Are Welcome!

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  1. January 9, 2012 at 10:00 pm

    It’s okay – I spent a large part of my childhood in Alabama and I feel the same way that you do 🙂 My husband and I joke about it all the time b/c he is a proud Alabamian (is that a word?) and most times I don’t mention it 🙂

    • AG said,

      January 10, 2012 at 8:04 am

      So glad you can relate. 🙂

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