Understanding Place

The place that built me…

In this week’s blog, I wanted to talk about the place that holds mine and my family’s history.

While I did not take this photo myself, I felt it was an important piece of the landscape of Simpsonville, South Carolina, the place I grew up. In this photo is the clock tower in the middle of downtown Simpsonville. Near this clock tower is my preschool, the one I attended before my parents got divorced. While divorce is a touchy subject; I know, I felt I needed to include it because it did have some effects in making me the person I am today. Near my preschool and behind the clock tower is the most amazing ice cream station in the world. I might be slightly biased but if you ever find yourself in Simpsonville, please go, you’ll understand what I mean. That ice cream station has been around since before I was born, and I have gone ever since I was old enough to have ice cream. That means I probably was licking ice cream off my parent’s fingers since the first year of my life. Simpsonville holds near and dear to my heart, especially now that I am older and attend school 17 hours away. Simpsonville is the town I used to beg not to leave after my parents divorced and my mom moved away, and my dad stayed behind. Seeing my dad was an absolute treat from there on out. I got to eat ice cream and watch the trains pass by the clock tower. I got to pass by that old preschool and laugh thinking back on how the mascot of the school was a dog, and mascots have and always will scare me. Something I find funny about Simpsonville in relation to the rest of South Carolina is, for it to be in the South, it really lacked all those stereotypes about the South. I absolutely loved that about this town. Though I was born in the South, and the South will always be my home, I never connected with the southern lifestyle. You won’t ever find me in cowgirl boots, and I have worked hard to cover the accent that I know I still have. Weirdly enough, everyone in that town including my dad seems to feel the same way as I do. Either that or they also all worked hard to cover their accent.

Simpsonville wasn’t a mountain town; it had its parks and places to explore but in no way can be compared to the Cabin in which Barbra Kingsolver lived. Kingsolver was and can experience the beauty of nature and grew to appreciate that nature as her life continues. That nature is what built her and now her kids. For me, however, Simpsonville gave me a different view on nature and wilderness. I was always scared of what might lurk in the woods, so I stayed away from those to be clear. However, there was a pond near my house just before the woods that I would go fishing with my dad. Those were some of the most peaceful times in my life. Being at the pond, time stood still and all you could hear was the wind blowing the leaves in the trees. Although I had this peace, because of my desire to leave the country and my lack of connection with the country, I still needed that fast-paced city life. So here I am in Massachusetts. I do still believe wilderness and nature brings peace and holds so much life, which is why I need to go home, I need to stop by the ponds and flowers and appreciate what life has to offer because you don’t always get that in the city.

From reading the chapter “Home Work” from Red by Terry Williams, I found a quote that describes my feelings towards my home. “Each of us belongs to a particular landscape, one that informs who we are, a place that holds our history, our dreams, holds us to a moral line of behavior that transcends thought” (Williams 19). Simpsonville holds all my history and my family’s history. Simpsonville gave me dreams of being somewhere “bigger.” Williams speaks of a “bedrock of democracy.” Simpsonville is that place. We are a community of people working to preserve our town, our ice cream shop, our people. We want to keep South Carolina’s logo alive. “Smiling faces, beautiful places.”

Citations:

Williams, Terry Tempest. “Home Work.” Red: Passion and Patience in the Desert, Vintage Books, 2001, pp. 3–19.