Loving, Hating, Being From Texas
Expat Texans, Texan Democrats—all us Texan “others”—have a complicated relationship with our home state.
There were few interracial couples in my high school and in my town, which pointed to a creeping, unspoken belief that white goes with white. I noticed how certain white families’ names in Orange and Beaumont matched the names of city streets, prominent buildings, and the movie theater: The UA Phelan. Broussard’s Funeral Home. Families grow their roots down deep in these Texas towns, and you begin to believe that they are the rightful owners.
Friday Night Lights
Corina Zappia's personal essays and reviews have appeared in Salon, The Los Angeles Review of Books, The Rumpus, The Awl, The Stranger, The Hairpin, Nerve, and The Village Voice, where she was a staff writer. She graduated with an MFA from the Bennington Writing Seminars and now lives in Seattle.
Sometimes she thinks about reviving her blog, Zach Braff Deathwatch, but fears he will live forever. You can find her on Twitter: @corinazappia
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“The question of where you’re from is often met with eager anticipation to easily judge you.”
Moving home to Newark has been a surreal experience because I have had to mourn places that once were, but are no longer.