The Gatlinburg Bubbas - Muse Apprentice Guild

Published 2003
Muse Apprentice Guild

The Gatlinburg Bubbas: Loving the Enemy

"It was Gatlinburg in mid-July
and I'd just hit town
and my throat was dry
and I thought I'd stop
and have myself a brew."

Johnny Cash
"A Boy Named Sue"

Every year, my boyfriend and I make a trip to the Smoky Mountains to go hiking and enjoy the magnificent explosion of fall colors. One of our favorite things to do after a full day of weaving through shrouded forests and picnicking by softly crooning streams is to go into Gatlinburg, Tennesse to relish a hearty meal and take in the gaudy sights.

If you've ever been to Gatlinburg, you'll have a visceral response to the word "gaudy." But if you've never been, then try to envision Las Vegas run out of Bubba's garage.

Now, in today's PC parlance, usage of the word "Bubba" would be construed as prejudiced. However, more often than not, "Bubba" as a pejorative term is tolerated because it represents uneducated Southern whites, and it's not considered discriminatory to denigrate whites, uneducated, Southern, or otherwise. This is because whites are currently considered the "dominant" race, and racism, in some people's minds, is only authentic when it's directed by the dominant race toward minority races.

There was a time when I embraced this view. I attended a Louis Farrakahn speech once, years ago, and when he spoke condemningly of whites, I loudly applauded. I am chagrined to admit this, yet the event helped shape who I later became. Now, of course, it's clear to me that Farrakahn and David Duke hail from the same confederacy - that of the dunces. You can argue that Farrakahn has more provocation to hate than David Duke, but your argument would be a gossomer-thin one; even Malcolm X came to see that hatred was an unproductive path.

The Gatlinburg Bubbas are invariably a source of great amusement for my boyfriend and me; after all, we're white, and a little spoofing of our own race weighs lightly on our conscience.

But underneath our quiet mockery is, I believe, a class arrogance that we're hardly aware we possess. With the Gatlinburg Bubbas, we're not simply poking fun of white people, we're poking fun of poor whites. Of course, we enjoy mocking affluent whites and whites of our own middle class also. But they can take it; they have economic might. Poor whites, though, well, it's not their fault.

An issue more divisive than race in this country is, it would seem, class. A middle-class black person is not as feared as a poor black person; ditto for whites. The root of the fear is the same - the poor person is usually uneducated, and so probably thrives on violence as a means of survival. But because whites once held black slaves, and because much of the racist activity that we hear about involves whites against blacks, people - usually liberals - just assume that it's okay to hate poor whites. But that's like throwing another snake into a pit of vipers: the only thing that's accomplished is more fighting.

Even more disquieting for us than the Gatlinburg Bubbas are those folks who reside just outside of Cherokee, North Carolina, right across the border from Gatlinburg. To give you an idea: in Gatlinburg, they sell t-shirts that feature logos like "This Blood's For You" under a picture of a bloody Jesus impaled on the cross. But outside of Cherokee, they sell KKK belt buckles. Suddenly, the scary Jesus shirts seem tame and inviting.

Yet, extreme racism is all these people have known, just as respect for diversity is all I've ever known. I can't help that my parents were ultra-educated and extended to me the virtue of tolerance, just as people living in the moutains can't help that their parents were minimally educated and extended to them the vice of intolerance.
Why is it that I pour out more natural sympathy for poor blacks or Latinos than I do for what are considered "trailer trash" whites? Because I've allowed myself to invest belief in the vicious myth of the Blue-Eyed Devil. But whites aren't devils anymore than we are all blue-eyed.

When we go back to the Smokies next year, you might wonder, will my boyfriend and I still make irreverent jokes about Bubbas? You bet; satirical humor about any culture acts as a buffer against the myriad miseries of the world. Besides, I can just as easily parody myself, with my "soccer dyke" haircut, belly bulge, protruding lower lip, grandiose ego, pedestrian intelligence and predictably liberal worldview. We must resist the PC thought police whenever we can, even though I probably buy into that menacing mindset in ways I'm scarcely alert to.

But is it healthy to ulimately consider prejudice against poor whites (or whites in general) as benign, since whites are still the majority race? No, it's not. We all have our prejudices, but we must be aware of them, and work with them. Even if that means our target wears Confederate Flag underwear.