You can take the boy out of Alabama, but ....

"I was born a poor black child ..."
Hopefully you remember that line from Steve Martin's movie, "The Jerk."
That's kind of how I feel right now.

A few weeks ago, my boss realized we were going to need press cover at the National Association of Black Journalists. I was chosen to go, although after the decision was made I heard my boss mumble, "Could we be sending anyone any whiter?"
Later, I was in Houston at the same time as the NAACP convention.
Now I find myself in New Orleans, working the Urban League convention.
Today I was manning a booth in the Exhibition Hall, having a great time meeting and talking to people who came, mostly looking for career help.
 There was a great young man from Dillard, a Communications major so it was right up my alley; we talked, I looked over his resume and gave him my free advice (worth what he paid for it). Turns out he'd worked some in sports information, so we had that in common. And then I told him if he was willing to move, I knew a couple good companies that were advertising for PR/Communications help that he should try.
There was an older man, who had been a nurse. He was tired of the hands-on nature of nursing, and was hoping to find something medical related. We talked about options - industrial health, primarily. But as we talked, he mentioned he had a Business Administration degree. We started talking about ways he could combine those degrees, and he actually kind of got excited because he hadn't through of that.
That's kind of how it went, and it was fun. I enjoy talking to strangers, and have learned how people really just want someone to bounce ideas off of, to listen to them, and then to have some sense of optimism restored. It wasn't that I could offer or promise anything, but I know from being in the job market myself sometimes you just need some encouragement, some renewed sense of hope.
One guy was thanking me for taking the time to help him, and I said, "Hey, in this economy, we have to help each other. If I can help you get a job, let me know. In three months, I may be calling you."

And then came my "jerk'' moment, when I realized not only just how "white" I am, but how Southern, how you can take the boy out of Alabama ...
A nice lady came up to talk. I went over, introduced myself, we started the conversation, and then I saw her T-shirt with the sparkly "Bama 12" on it.
So of course I said, "Are you an Alabama fan?"
She said, "What?"
I said, "An Alabama fan - you know, Roll Tide!"
She looked at me like I was an idiot.
I said, "Your shirt - it says 'Bama' on it."
She looked down and then back at me and said, "It says Obama."
Sure enough, it was an Obama t-shirt. The "O" was that usually colorful circle, but it was also kind of bent around her chest where it didn't line up exactly right, and the "b-a-m-a" were in all caps. And I remember when 'Bama fans were celebrating 12 national championships ....
And I felt like an idiot.
"I'm sorry,'' I said. "I'm from Alabama. Even when President Obama was running in 2008, the first time I saw one of his bumper stickers I thought it was 'O-Bama,' not "Obama.'"
She didn't see the humor.
Truthfully, at that point neither did I.

But never underestimate the power of Alabama fans. They are everywhere.
At that very moment, a gentlemen next to her leaned over and said, "Here you go - Roll Tide!" And he pulled out a pendant he was wearing around his neck - a crimson Alabama "A" with a national championship logo.
He went on to say, "Anybody from Georgia to Alabama to Mississippi would see it the same way."

Chagrined, I smiled and finished the conversation with the nice lady as best as I could, and then slinked away.
At that point, it hit me.
You can take the boy out of Alabama, but you can't take the 'Bama out of the boy.

What a jerk.