Appalachian Taoism

Duyun Tan 

 

 

“How are y’all doin’ this mornin’?” I asked as I walked into school to greet my FCA friends that were gathering at the front door. I joined their "morning talk" until it was time for the praying session. If y’all know me well, despite the accent I picked up from my native language divulging my exotic identity, y’all wouldn’t be surprised by my way of greeting, nor the unique Appalachian twang of a Kentuckian. While meaning the same thing as "you guys", "y'all' to me is not just a more efficient word with less syllables; it’s how I have been greeted and welcomed for the last two years in Kentucky, the land where I found my second home.   

       My mom and I moved to Kentucky two years ago. Before then, I was one of the 8 million Chinese high school students living an intense and stressful life to get into a good college. My parents threw tons of money into the lair of the insanely-burgeoning test prep industry, while I spent my already-scanty free time on the same thing. Test scores and class rankings were the only things I could think of to define me. Fortunately, these things didn't survive the fifteen-hour flight from Yichang to Kentucky. As soon as I touched down in this land, I felt the endless distance between my home, friends and language. A momentary lapse into thoughts sent chills down my spine. It was a frosty Bluegrass winter.

       Despite the emergent homesickness, I soon started to feel the unique spirit of Kentucky welcome me. The camo-country boys who were always busy looking for trucks on their iPads were never too busy to teach me how to read Night word-by-word for a 90-minute block. Moreover, my fellow classmates were very curious about China. As I was learning English from them, they were learning Chinese from me. Sometimes in the hallway I would hear them calling in some not-too-broken-to-understand Chinese, and we would laugh while bystanders watched us with confused stares. Although I’m not a native Kentuckian, my classmates were always caring, hospitable, and never let me feel alienated.

        Not only immigrants like me were viewed with stereotype; my friends never get bothered when telling me about how people think Kentuckians have weird facial scars from inbreeding and don't wear shoes. When people talked about Chinese people eating cats, I surprisingly found out I became one of the “Kentuckians”. I learned to face this massive world full of diversity and variety with a smile and a Kentuckian open mind.

       Over the last two years, I have found myself doing so many things I never imagined before: going to church, coaching a Special Olympics team, writing my own book, reading Shakespeare when it’s not for a reading quiz on Friday, and most importantly, understanding that the numerical evaluations fully capture neither my intelligence nor my will: I am way more than my test scores. According to Taoism, the universe pertains to a binary system, consisting of two sides. There’s another side of me, one that is rich and full of personality. I’ve always been brimming with passions and ideas, and Kentucky taught me to never abort them.

       Combining thousands of years of Taoism with hundreds of years of Appalachian culture might sound a little weird, but I finally found something in the grand scheme that defines me. Among the little ridiculous stereotypes about Kentucky, I know one of them is true: no one wants to leave Kentucky once they come. I’ll never be able to escape the magnificent landscape of Kentucky. The shining gifts Kentucky has given to my mind and spirit are the treasures I’ll take with me to college and beyond. I attribute them to my old Kentucky home, a place where I’ll always be content and appreciative.