As we make our way through Savannah, I can’t help but think about the treasures that await us just beyond the confines of this car—historic names etched into stone and marble, beckoning us to explore. After our little adventure, we plan to indulge in some rich, fried goodness at Paula Deen’s The Lady and Sons, perhaps something like a tart, crispy fried green tomato.
While we sit in traffic, a bunch of college guys pulls up beside us. The one closest to me gestures for me to roll down my window. Assuming a friendly Southern vibe, I oblige.
“Hey man, are you really a supporter of Obama, the Yankees, and the Crimson Tide?”
“Yep, that’s me. Quite the mix, huh?”
They seem friendly enough, but the light turns green before we can dive deeper into our cultural differences. We escape the gridlock and enter downtown Savannah, where the heat and humidity begin to envelop us.
Sometimes, I forget the stickers on my car. I hail from Bessemer, Alabama, a town of about 35,000—big enough to have a sense of community, yet small enough to shape our perspectives. My parents were cautious about expressing their opinions publicly, never placing bumper stickers on their cars. It took Alabama’s impressive run of three national championships in five years during the early 1960s to convince my father—a die-hard Crimson Tide fan—to finally adorn his Buick with a car tag.
They never aligned themselves with George Wallace and were open about their stance. When I once asked why they didn’t support his opponent with a sticker or sign, my father replied, “You just never know how people will react if you draw attention to yourself.”
This might explain why I was 7 before I learned my father was Jewish—or why I wasn’t invited to temple with him until I asked to join at 15.
When I got my sunset-colored Honda Element in 2004 (an oddity my mother teases about—“You got an Auburn-colored car!”), I decided it was time to break free from my parents’ reservations. I added a Yankee emblem, inspired by Derek Jeter’s reign. Next came several Crimson Tide stickers featuring Alabama’s iconic tusked elephant.
In 2008, I added my Obama sticker, enduring some light-hearted (I think) teasing from a couple of friends. Now living in South Carolina, I’ve encountered a more culturally sophisticated opposition. I even suggested to one friend, a fellow Bama supporter, that he think of my Obama sticker as “O Bama.” He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.
Having spent my entire life in the South, I completed my undergraduate degree in Alabama and earned my master’s and Ph.D. at the University of Tennessee. I now teach literature, Holocaust studies, Southern film, and creative writing at a small liberal arts college in rural South Carolina. Though the college is Presbyterian, I was raised Methodist and later embraced Judaism without formally converting. When I was hired, I reminded them that I was still a member of my mother’s church. They accepted that.
Yet, being half-Jewish—I couldn’t settle for that. Over two decades, I worked tirelessly to change the college’s restrictive policy. Six years ago, we finally succeeded, coincidentally the same year Obama took office, the Yankees won their last World Series, and the Crimson Tide claimed its first national championship in 17 years under Nick Saban.
That year brought me immense joy. Today, I still embody all the elements of who I am—a little less Methodist, a tad less Jewish, but more Southern than ever, embracing my newfound appreciation for single-origin Bourbons, my subscription to Garden and Gun, and my latest companion, my Dixie Dingo named Max. This unique breed, the only non-European indigenous American dog, migrated to the South from Asia long ago. They typically start as white pups but turn yellow as they grow. Max, with his goofy charm and floppy ears, is a delightful mix, much like me.
This article was originally published on May 29, 2015.
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In summary, I proudly own my identity as a Jewish, liberal supporter of the Crimson Tide, navigating the complexities of Southern culture with a sense of humor and pride.
Keyphrase: Southern Jewish Liberal
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