Mississippi Native: John Caleb Grenn
"When there’s need in front of you, there’s opportunity to make a difference, so it’s always made sense to stay where the need is greatest."
What does it mean to call Mississippi home? Why do people choose to leave or live in this weird, wonderful, and sometimes infuriating place? Originally from Hattiesburg, John Caleb Grenn is a doctor specializing in internal medicine and pediatrics at the University of Mississippi Medical Center in Jackson. He is also an artist and prolific “bookstagrammer,” promoting authors and their stories while cultivating bookish community on his Instagram page @jcgrenn_reads. This year, JC created the official artwork for the 10th Mississippi Book Festival. “No Going Home” features over fifty literary Easter eggs from past Book Festival authors and their books. Today, John Caleb shares what keeps him rooted to his home state, even as he and his family prepare for an upcoming out-of-state move.
Where are you from?
Hattiesburg, MS
How long have you lived in Mississippi?
Since the day I was born!
What does “home” mean to you? How does Mississippi fit into that definition?
Home is steaming hot cornbread, frigid blasting air conditioning, and the bright smell of Gain laundry detergent. It’s a place to be with your family and your books. I think my definition of home arose from the things Mississippi’s best at: cooling off over a good meal while your summer sweaty clothes wash, then tucking in for a good conversation or laying around with a good book.
How have you cultivated community in Mississippi? Who are the people who have made you feel rooted here?
University of Mississippi Medical Center, The University of Southern Mississippi, Lemuria Books, and the Mississippi Book Festival are four of my favorite communities, and I hope I’ve been able to provide the best support for them I can in the time I’ve spent at them.
What’s the weirdest question or assumption you’ve encountered about Mississippi (or about you as a Mississippian) by someone who’s never been here?
I love meeting someone new when I’ve got the vantage point of being from and living in Mississippi. People who don’t know the South always feel the need to respond in some way—their body language always changes, or they say something about your accent or lack thereof. I’ve heard the “no-shoes” thing before, but not in any professional setting.
Really though, and this is what’s surprised me most, I think in recent years most of the literary creatives and medical professionals I’ve met from out west or from the Northeast actually recognize Mississippi as the fresh, creative hotspot it is, and they understand Mississippians know how the world works on a deeper, more interesting level than other, busier, more crowded place might allow. I think they know and might even envy that, even in the middle of our biggest cities, we can easily feel like we’re lost in the woods, surrounded by the constant thrums of nature, buzzing insects and birdsong.
I think my definition of home arose from the things Mississippi’s best at: cooling off over a good meal while your summer sweaty clothes wash, then tucking in for a good conversation or laying around with a good book.
How has living in Mississippi affected your identity and your life’s path?
I grew up a “smart kid,” and remember being told I’d be a doctor by parents and grandparents my whole life. I don’t remember going to the doctor as a kid unless I was really sick or had a problem. My grandmother died from complications with cancer when I was 10, and that stuck with me. I had a narrative for my life laid out–a path I could follow. My brother later developed a serious case of Inflammatory Bowel Disease and spent a lot of time in the hospital when he was a teenager. None of us quite understood what was going on during either of those times of grief.
I think my (pretty typical) Mississippi family’s detachment from modern healthcare made me passionate to understand it, and understand the way disease can alter how an immediate and an extended family is able to function. Going through medical training, you’re hammered with ideas about being a Mississippi doctor for Mississippi’s people. Stay here. Work here. Don’t be a part of the “brain drain.” When there’s need in front of you, there’s opportunity to make a difference, so it’s always made sense to stay where the need is greatest.
Do you ever consider moving away someday? Does a sense of duty keep you rooted here? Do you have a “tipping point”?
My wife recently matched in a fellowship that will take us to Texas next year. Home is home, but I like the idea of a new adventure.
What do you wish the rest of the country understood about Mississippi?
I wish everyone understood that Mississippi is exactly what the rest of the United States looks like, just more up front in your face. Everything in Mississippi is amplified and laid a little bare, the nasty parts and the beautiful parts.
I think in recent years most of the literary creatives and medical professionals I’ve met from out west or from the Northeast actually recognize Mississippi as the fresh, creative hotspot it is, and they understand Mississippians know how the world works on a deeper, more interesting level than other, busier, more crowded place might allow.
Do you have a favorite Mississippi writer, artist, or musician who you think everyone needs to know about?
Anyone who knows me knows I love Jesmyn Ward. Music-wise, though, Jeremiah Stricklin from Laurel, MS, has a band with his wife Erin called Oh, Jeremiah that consistently pours out excellent creative work.
If you had one billion dollars to invest in Mississippi, how would you spend your money?
Pour it into the school system. Pay people to teach, and pay people to become teachers. Incentivize the heck out of great teaching and give them every resource with which to do it. In turn, we’re pouring that into our kids and giving them every opportunity to be creative with the many-ways broken Mississippi they’re inheriting. Give them knowledge and health and means to care for their families, and they’ll take care of this place for years to come, leaving it better than they find it.
Going through medical training, you’re hammered with ideas about being a Mississippi doctor for Mississippi’s people. Stay here. Work here. Don’t be a part of the “brain drain.”
What or who do you want to shamelessly promote? (It can absolutely be a project you’re working on, or something you are involved in.)
I spend most of my time shamelessly promoting my bookstagram @jcgrenn_reads and Lemuria Books (who I think you are due a trip to right now!) but I’d actually love to point out my sister-in-law’s music. Madeline Edwards is an artist in Nashville making this one-of-a-kind, smokey, rock-n-roll jazzy country music like nothing you’ve ever heard. Check her out on Spotify or Apple Music. I’d say she’s the next big thing, but she’s already the big thing.
Proud to have watched you grow into this incredible physician, husband, father, son & brother. It's apparent that you're leaving everything you touch better for having been involved, be it your profession or your passions. You represent what makes Mississippi what it is...a many faceted state...and a place of talent and initiative that doesn't have a limit.
“ When there’s need in front of you, there’s opportunity to make a difference, so it’s always made sense to stay where the need is greatest. ”
Love this!