Mississippi-isms
Every spring for the past seven years, I’ve taught a class at Iowa State University about the power of art to build community by creating understanding between folks and, ideally, increasing belonging. Storytelling, visually and literally, is central to this.
Being a Mississippian, I was raised among and around the best of the best storytellers, and didn’t appreciate it until I left. Looking back, my brother and I probably should have followed both our parents around with tape recorders to capture their offhanded bits and pieces. Stories, and by proxy words, reveal the textures of who we are, individually and collectively.
When I interviewed writer Dixie Scovel for the Water Valley painting series, she mentioned that the language, the weird ways we string words together down south, drew her in and led her to leave Long Island for Mississippi. She said:
“I think the other thing that I really like about Water Valley is when I talk to long-term residents and hear their vernacular, their use of language, in their stories. For example: 'Will you ride me back to my house?' instead of ‘Will you drive me back to my house?’ I love to hear this. I was out one day having a drink with someone and I was a little concerned about her getting home. And I said, 'Are you all right?' And she said, 'I can keep it between the ditches.'
I think my interest in the writers of Mississippi is that I'm always thinking, "Where does that come from?" I don't have a lot of clarity about it, other than the entertainment of self, I think, that so many Mississippians have in telling stories, and how those things are passed generation to generation. Those two things, language and story, are very positive. And for someone like me [a writer], they're very important.”
Jennifer Drinkwater, Between the Ditches, acrylic on wood panel, 36” x 36”, 2021. (Now available as a tiny print.)
So I made an informal poll and asked fellow ‘Sippians about the weird stuff we say. Their replies are below. I’ll try my best to translate for the rest of y’all. Here goes.
Finna / fixin to: Being about to do something, i.e. I’m fixin to go home.
Buggy: a grocery cart
Bless your heart: opposite in meaning, depending on context. Can be a somewhat passive aggressive nicety, particularly when spoken about someone not present, i.e. “She thinks folks read all those blogs she writes, bless her heart.” As a person who recently moved to the South said, “I thought it was a nice saying, until I found the real meaning.”
We’re praying for y’all: Context is everything here. Can be very nice and heartfelt. Or folks can use this to express condescension and judgement, like in response to, say, someone not getting married in a proper way: “No, they didn’t get married in a church. We’re praying for them.” I’ve experienced both many times.
Cain’t: can’t, rhymes with paint.
Poem: pronounced poim, not po-em.
Serious as a heart attack: do not mince my words.
That’s a bad fact: you’re doomed.
Deader en hell: My Mississippi family doesn’t use euphemisms for death. I remember being genuinely confused the first time I heard a person say someone “had passed.”
How’s yer mama an’ ‘em / How yer mama and daddy? : Please give my regards to your family.
I’m not trying to be ugly: Preface to, or following, an insult, criticism, or snark. (see: Bless your heart or We’re praying for y’all)
You know that hoochie cooch: Spoken when you can’t remember a name.
Too much sugar for the dime: Too good to be true.
Making groceries: Procuring food items.
A little time and a few kind words: In response to “What do you need?”
That person is crazier than a run-over squirrel/road lizard/Bessie-bug: Usually followed by, or in response to, a really good story.
Do what?: Pardon me? (variation: Do what now?)
Up and died: an unexpected demise, variation of deader en hell.
Old as dirt: usually spoken about oneself or a person not present.
Plain wore out: extraordinarily tired, exhausted.
As all get out: to an extreme degree, i.e. "I was mad as all get out.”
I tell you what: emphatically, variation of Listen here, fella.
Boy, let me dust your britches!: A grandparent wants to lovingly "spank" a mischievous grandchild.
Dance with the one what brung ye: Don’t ditch your date.
He is stuck to her like white on rice: a major crush on someone.
Jennifer Drinkwater, Big Sky Lake, limited edition print, 12” x 18”, 2022. Cain’t talk shop about Mississippi without cypress trees.
Do you want a coke? Would you like a soda/pop/soft drink/beverage? i.e What kinda coke do you want? Sprite?
Tump: flip, dump, empty, as in You don’t wanna tump your canoe on the Okatoma.
Frontage Road: a road entering or exiting the interstate
18-wheeler: a tractor trailer or semi
Let me let you go: Spoken when you’re done talking to someone on the phone
Totesome: gas station
Carry me: Drive, as in “Can you carry me to the grocery store?”
Package store: liquor store
Pull the door to: Please close the door.
Crack a window: open a window
Idn’t and hadn’t: isn’t and hasn’t
Ragamuffin: sloppy, unkempt
Be sweet: a command, usually from a parent to a child, to mind one’s manners and/or to not get arrested.
Gradoo: dirt, as in “Lemme wipe that gradoo off your face.”
That's slower than steam off a dog turd: describing a glacial occurrence.
That was slicker than snot on a windshield: Watch one’s step.
Big thanks to all y’all that played. What else y’all got?
A Bessie Bug. Apparently crazy.