I’m Just Like You—Only Different.

I’m Just Like You—Only Different

A southern drawl
Not yet discernable to me
Ahh now I hear

As a pre-teen living in Los Angeles we moved to the Arkansas Ozarks. This was a major culture shock to the maximum. There were outhouses, hand dug wells, strange plants, and foods. I had stepped into the twilight zone. This world I had fallen into provided many new things and people for me to observe, experience, test, fear, and learn to love

No more big city lights and sounds from,
storefronts—street lights—marquess—playgrounds—skyscrapers—ambulances—fire trucks—freeways.

New country lights and sounds from,
fireflies—campfires—moon reflections—flashlight tag—frogs croaking—bubbling creeks—rustling leaves.

There also were the many strange southern foods to try, things I had never heard of. Things like poke salad, okra, grits, fresh caught catfish, gooseberries and so many more, none of which I disliked. Guess what fried squirrel brains taste like, not chicken but okay.

First day at my new school, after a ten mile school bus ride, I couldn’t understand anything anyone was saying in that slow southern drawl. At least not for a little while. At the end of that first week Mom got a phone call from me saying “I’m at the Jones’ can I spend the night”? Mom was like, what?, who?, where the hell are you? I don’t remember now if she said yes or no, probably no. However, that home became my second home with a houseful of extended sisters and brothers.

At my new school, which was K–12th, the Jr HIgh–High school classrooms encircled the gymnasium and basketball was a big thing. Those of us who did not play basketball were assigned to the dirt ballfield across the street, also referred to as ‘under the smoking tree’, for that school period. One day before classes began Mr. Smythe, the coach and science teacher, came up to the group of us and asked why I wasn’t playing basketball. I don’t know how to play, I told him. He quickly replied, ‘well that’s what I’m here for to teach you’. So, I learned how to play basketball and I was good at it. I learned more than the game, such as teamwork, sportsmanship, responsibility, comradery, trust, and self esteem. Being ‘a part of’ can do that.

The interaction within my friends’ homes taught me about family strengths and love, even in the midst of disagreements. Daddy had moved us around a lot between the big city and Nebraska farmland so I missed a lot of family relative exposure and the mechanics of family life. There was mostly just Daddy, Mom, my little brother and me. Maybe we could be something different than Nomads here in this unfamiliar land.

In the big city things were fast, exciting, loud, dangerous at times. In the country things became slower, quieter, fun, sometimes dangerous, but by choice.
I learned to swim in the river, pendulating off of a rough thick rope hanging from a tree branch over the running water. But only after traversing across the seemingly endless length of a swinging bridge to gain access to the swimming hole.

Riding horseback in the full moon light up an old abandoned logging road leading into the national forest. Bareback bronc riding shetland ponies or young steers. Ouch, the ground is hard but it is so much fun.
I broke my own pony at one point as I grew up in a real community located in the country.

Although things were different they were familiarly the same:
Dancing the twist versus square dancing.
Songs of rock and roll versus country ballads.
Chicken and mash potatoes versus catfish and hush puppies.
A vehicle across the city to predetermined destination versus a hayride up to lookout point.

Many years later now I appreciate those experiences. They gave me a better understanding of myself and other people. I believe differences and similarities can lead to a wholeness of understanding. I want to be whole with humankind, working as such for the benefit of all inhabitants here on this planet we call home.

I promise to listen completely to what you have to say.

I promise to respond to your opinions with respect.

I promise to take care of the environment around me.

I promise to care for you as I would wish you to care for me.

I promise to be grateful for things that come my way regardless of the now, because the true results may still be coming.

I promise to be compassionate in adversity, trying to understand the complete picture as if looking through the windows of a glass house.

By the way, did I mention I now refer to Arkansas as home.

Billie Joe, Elephant Academy Apprentice

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