What it’s really like moving to South Carolina from the West Coast

“Where are you from?”

“San Diego, California,” I reply, but all I think in my mind is ‘wait for it.’

“California!! Why are you here!?”

Typical…

I go to USC…. No not University of Southern California – the other one, University of South Carolina.  During the first month of my attendance at the “other USC”, I commonly referred to it as the University of Southern Carolina, but as I am wrapping up my freshman year here, this mistake has become few and far between.

Although I have grown to lament those who question why I chose to leave the Golden Coast, I admire their intrigue.  I have always found “why” to be my favorite question, and the utilization of “why” can open so many doors. It is truly a limitless word.  To answer this question of why I chose to attend “the other USC” I think it is equally important to understand why I chose not to stay on the Gold Coast.

California is known for its free thinking, warm beaches, vibrant culture and beautiful people.  I have been raised in California all my life, and I love my city of San Diego with all my heart, but there is a loss of charm when you grow so accustom to one region. It is hard to appreciate the sunny days without some rainy days, and in San Diego that is directly applicable because it never rains.

In South Carolina, it rains constantly, it rains sporadically, and it rains aggressively.  I had to buy an umbrella.  If you ask anyone it will be confirmed: us Southern Californians do not own umbrellas.  It took me a few weeks to understand how to hold and walk with an umbrella without fear of hitting someone on the street.

The learning curve has not stopped there. Beyond the superficial differences and challenges in regards to weather, I have begun to face the true differences that alienate the South from the West, and possibly the rest of America.  One large difference is, of course, the topic of religion.  South Carolina falls under the Bible Belt, and I felt this shift the first week of my freshman year.  All my new friends were quick to ask my religion, what Christian church I belonged to, and where I was planning on going to chapter or Sunday church. My response is pretty simple: I’m atheist.  But I wish I had stopped saying that to the new friends I was making, as their acceptance to my belief preference is far different from my view point on their chosen religion.

As an atheist living in the South, I have been subjected to pitiful looks of those who believe I will burn in hell, am in need of salvation, have no morals, and so forth.  These people exist everywhere, and many children in college are just learning how to branch away from their parents’ ideals.  They are quick to throw around the judgment that they have been subjected to their whole lives back at the people that question or go against what they have been raised in.

This is starkly different to my experience as an atheist in Southern California.  Frankly, the topic of religion rarely comes up. Despite my atheism, I had many “moderately religious friends” and a few who attended Young Life, an organization for young Christian teens that meet once a week and discussed topics from the Bible.  Ironically, I attended these meetings for two years with a good friend of mine. At these meetings I learned so many valuable lessons through stories from the Bible, seamlessly woven into applicable lectures for young adults.  I can honestly say Young Life was a rock during one of the most difficult times in my life. I was accepted here, a little atheist, loud-mouth teenager mingling with Christian teens who had been raised with religion all their lives. But these people accepted me for who I was, they did not see me as “bad” or “sinful” for my religious preference. It was not required that we thought in a similar manner, but rather the emphasis was on the mixing of ideas and backgrounds to grow and learn from each other.

What I have found so interesting about living in an area populated with these Southern church goers and the “extremely religious,” as my California friends like to say, is very different from what I expected. The youth population still goes out, drinks, make poor decisions, say rude things, hurt each other and disrespect their elders. The people that have judged me the most for being atheist are the quickest to be making the typical “freshman mistakes.” I do not know if it is internal rebellion or questioning of their rigid youth, but I do not believe the Bible advocates binge drinking.  Correct me if I’m wrong.

What troubles me more deeply than a population of 18-year-olds rebelling against their parents is the mindset that has been infused into them.  It is a mindset of black-and-white, of yes-or-no, and of wrong-versus-right.  For example, in my English class the professor will ask a fairly vague question that I personally could not answer without some context and definition to his meaning. Yet many times I have observed someone who quickly answers his open-ended question, certain about their beliefs towards a question that they took to have a particular meaning to themselves without questioning why or how they perceived it differently.  This is not a solely Southern issue, but this close minded and dichotomized thinking is far more prevalent in the South than any other region I have visited, both in the States and around the world.

My favorite analogy for this way of thinking is a black and white thought process where a grey scale should be utilized.  A grey scale viewpoint is what needs to be instilled into the mindsets of young adults – the world is too complicated and diverse for black-and-white viewpoints. The world is too interconnected and interwoven for this viewpoint to live on.  Just as religion has been required to evolve to adapt to the growing population of atheists and “moderately religious” populations in California. My Christian Young Life group was able to see me outside of their grey scale, they saw me as a different color, equally as important and unique to their youth group despite our many differences.

To see in color, to think in color and in shades, is something lacking in the South. It is perpetuated in the fundamentals of a college education, yet what is a professor to do when half of their classrooms population can only see through the lens of their glasses?  We must push for a shifting viewpoint, a viewpoint that allows for the exchanging of lenses. Just as we can use a kaleidoscope offers a perspective that differs from close reading glasses, the South as a whole must change their one lens to allow for the flourishing of their youth.  It begins with sharing and acceptance, the movement towards the grey area, that will allow us as a country to welcome all the colors of the world.