If you haven’t lived in Texas or met a Texan, you probably can’t appreciate the significance of Texas life. If you haven’t seen a cake pan the shape of your state, or eaten tortilla chips cut out into the shape of your state, or heard a friend explain that if you drew a line connecting the freckles on her leg it would be in the shape of your state, or seen your state flag billowing larger and grander than the American flag, you probably haven’t really felt that community pride that Texans feel just because they’re Texan.
Let me first be clear: I am not Texan. I am from Pennsylvania. I love Pennsylvania. I get warm and gooey inside when I drive into the Susquehanna River Valley. But this feeling pales in comparison to Texans’ pride in Texas.
This blog name began as somewhat of a joke–you often see bumper stickers in Texas that say something like “I wasn’t born in Texas but I got here as fast as I could” and I thought that was a bit crazy the whole four years I lived there–but I decided to keep it now that I make a home thousands of miles away from that “whole ‘nother country.” It’s a great title for a blog about community. There’s value in knowing where you’re from, in having deep roots, in being community. Life isn’t bucolic in Texas, don’t get me wrong, but now that I’m away from my first house, my bapto-contemplative church, and my dear friends, I can appreciate what they’ve got going on down there.
And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who feels like something is missing in her experience of community.
So that’s why “Schmexas.”
