I would consider myself a well-traveled person, taking into account the relatively short amount of time I’ve been on the earth. However, there is much of the United States that I have yet to see. This recent week-long break, I visited the Southeast region of the US to look at potential colleges, including Vanderbilt, Davidson, Wake Forest, and Duke. While I learned a lot about each of the schools, I also gained insight into the region, and let me tell you, it is much different from California.
In SoCal, we pride ourselves on our impeccable avocado toast, Starbucks at every corner, and the sunny beach scene. While Starbucks is a trend that carries over, I was hard-pressed to find an avocado, nevertheless a simple side salad, in a restaurant during my trip. The culture in the Southeast is different as well. People there are more easy-going; they take things slow and stop to appreciate the little things. They have a laid-back approach to food, and they’re here to enjoy themselves and to live life.
In California, we tend to focus on the here and now. We want things fast, and we tend to focus on ourselves compared to others. Locals focus on the look, or the aesthetic, in everything. How trendy can I make my latest Instagram post before it looks fake? Can I wear leggings three days in a row so that it seems like I work out a lot? Is that twelve-dollar tofu salad really worth it? The answer is you’re already past that point, nobody believes you go to the gym that much, and no, no it’s not. We ignore those facts, however, and do it anyways.
We take ourselves seriously here. Everyone is careful about what jokes they make and in what context because a comment on a social media post from five years back can be held against you in college. We walk on eggshells to avoid offending anyone, and while I’m all for being kind and considerate of feelings, I also support humor. Our range of jokes we are “allowed” to make is seriously limited here.
Compare this to the Southeast. From the second I got off the plane into the Nashville airport, I felt just a bit more…free. I could talk a bit louder, laugh a little harder, and drive a little slower. People don’t flip a teen girl off in a residential neighborhood for going the speed limit. (true story– happened to me two days ago. I still haven’t forgiven the guy.) I noticed a difference in my parents as well. They chatted more with strangers and were more friendly; in short, they acted how they usually act at home. It made me smile.
On my college tours, I noted the usual “competitive high school kids glaring at each other and sizing up the opposition,” because I was for sure doing the same thing. But the actual kids in college? I’ve never seen happier people. It made me excited for the future.
One story to leave you with, and then I’ll tackle the chem homework I’ve been putting off. We finish our six-hour drive to the little town of Davidson from Nashville. Thus far, I’m not very impressed. I have a stomachache, the town is tiny, and it’s raining. When my parents say we’re going for a walk to explore the town, my first thought was, “Wow, that’ll take all of ten minutes.” Our first stop is into a small bakery called, “Bonjour, Y’all!” and they’re giving out free croissants.
Needless to say, I decided I liked the town.
Twenty minutes later, my dad is engaged with the bakery workers about the merits of California croissants versus North Carolina ones, and my mom and I are talking about my college plans with a man from an insurance business next door. We leave smiling, and with a bag of delicious baked goods.
I could never imagine that scenario occurring back home. People here are just less…open. They have their lives that they get through, and we have ours, and there’s very little time to stop and chat. People in the Southeast care. They want to be your friend, to know your life story, to give you a reason to smile.
And for that, I’m looking forward to the next time I get to visit, and potentially live for the next for years.
