The educated bumpkin

By Davis Mounger
Photo by Jenn E. Clark

I encourage my son always to try to see “how the other half lives,” and I’m always looking for ways for him to do so. We’ve got our National Geographic subscription, and he can’t wait to pull off the plastic when it comes out of the mailbox. He and I get to travel through our imaginations that way, but we hanker for more. We want to see, smell and hear all those mysterious places. Personally, I’ve never cared much for ethnic fairs. I guess trying mysterious lumps of food sold by people in folk costumes isn’t my notion of learning about other societies and their ways, however much I may love a knish or manakeesh. But if you’re living in rural Mississippi, with a lot of curiosity and little cash, what do you do?
We’ve been lucky to find some of that world since we moved here to Chattanooga. Having come from a rural area, we’ve certainly met many kinds of people whom we wouldn’t have back home, and it’s been fun to see the difference. This area has attracted a lot of Northern transplants, as well as folks from out west. I’ve noticed that quite a few people here speak with what I call “the Western Rising Contour,” where a statement sounds like a question. It’s a little like an Australian accent, and a far cry from the low, guttural mush of Mississippi vowels that I’m used to.

“If he’s going to meet people abroad, God forbid that he have nothing more than pop culture to share—which is mostly what the rest of the world sees, anyway.”

We’ve also met people from every corner of the globe, often in settings where I didn’t imagine I would. I was definitely surprised when I began teaching at East Ridge High, an English as a Second Language school, whose students speak in a variety of native tongues.
It was during my first year at East Ridge that I realized how broad the student body is. I had an ESL student from Guatemala who was having trouble with a lesson. When I told him I had some articles on the lesson in Spanish, he said he didn’t know Spanish at all. Later, I had him teach me a few phrases in his language. This was my introduction to Kanjobal, a Mayan language. One of his classmates spoke Akateko. Another spoke a language called Mam. All three of these students were from the same 50-mile radius in Guatemala. That was when I came to understand more about how much of the world still speaks in local languages.
As Chattanooga attracts more people, we have the opportunity to learn more of the world that seeks to be our neighbor. We tend to think only large cities have the cosmopolitan flair, but Chattanooga certainly has a bit of that itself. I’m thrilled by the idea of a place that at once offers the down-home and the worldly. What I like about Chattanooga is the way it offers cultural events without fluff and pretense.
Almost all of my travel has been within the United States. If my son and I are going to visit a place for a few days, I like to mix some education in with the fun. It’s easy to see the touristy stuff, and we always make time for that, but I try to turn Bramble’s attention to locales and events that reveal some of the politics, religion and history of the places we visit. I feel this helps him keep mindful of the most vital things in a society, found beyond the surface of peoples and places.

Bramble did spend a month in Denmark as part of an exchange program. What interested me was his opportunity to visit the Danish parliament and a self-governing island, Christiana. I think the trip was rewarding in that it showed him not only the sights common to tourists, but the social institutions of that country.
My son is shaping up to be more worldly than I, and so I’ve impressed on him that before he heads out for parts unknown, it’s important to take stock in his own “postage stamp of soil.” If he’s going to meet people abroad, God forbid that he have nothing more than pop culture to share—which is mostly what the rest of the world sees, anyway. It’s pretty embarrassing when you run into a foreigner who can better explain to you than you can to them your country’s judicial system, your best novelists or your local flora and fauna—and yes, all three have happened to me.
Teaching your child the basics about your community is part of good rearing and manners. People everywhere are curious, so it’s nice to be their first-hand guide to your community’s people, landscape, history, ways and mores. After all, you want to spread not only good will, but a sense that your home is a place worth visiting. As I’ve said to my young diplomat-in-training: “We can be bumpkins, but we may as well be educated bumpkins.”