Mississippi Expat: David McDowell

"I find that when I stumble across a fellow Mississippian here, we share a unique sense of sadness and joy and awareness. Being home feels like that all the time."

What does it mean to call Mississippi home? Why do people choose to leave or live in this weird, wonderful, and sometimes infuriating place? Today we hear from former electoral and legislative advocate and current seminarian David McDowell.

Featured contributor David McDowell

Where are you from?

I was born and raised just across the border in Louisiana, but I like to say I got to Mississippi as fast as I could. When I attended the University of Mississippi, I fell in love with the entire place and essentially made it a part of my personality. That said, these days when I say “home” I mean Jackson, Mississippi.

When did you move to Richmond, VA and why did you move there?

I moved to Richmond in 2021 in order to attend a Presbyterian seminary. Jackson is actually home to a popular Reformed seminary, but it is deeply conservative and decidedly not my vibe. I am a member of Fondren Presbyterian Church, a PCUSA congregation, and it became a place of peace for me during a tumultuous time. As I began to hear a call to ministry, Union Presbyterian Seminary created a Masters of the Arts in Public Theology, a means of marrying my interest in justice advocacy with the Gospel. I left a whole lot of tears on the way out of Jackson. 

What does “home” mean to you? How does Mississippi fit into that definition?

One day, as I poured a bourbon under a Grove tent with the artist William Dunlap, he continued a story he was sharing: “William Faulkner always said all Mississippians want to be Virginians.” First, that has to be the most Mississippi sentence I’ve ever written in my life. Second, while I trust and love Mr. Dunlap (a genuine inspiration and state treasure!), I have never found a citation for this. But it makes sense, and I understand what that means now that I’m here. At least for me, that was like the dog catching the car, because I’ve been thinking a lot about the institutional knowledge I collected over fifteen years in Mississippi and how little intrinsic value that has here in Virginia. 

While I wish I could dump the lyrics of “Don’t Stop Believing” from my memory bank to free up some space, there’s nothing about Mississippi that I would ever give away. In a lot of ways, spending time away from home means having to explain myself so much more.  When Mississippians are together, certain important things can go left unsaid without any impact on empathy. I find that when I stumble across a fellow Mississippian here, we share a unique sense of sadness and joy and awareness. Being home feels like that all the time. 

Being home is not having to explain the draining realities of Boil Water Notices or Phil Bryant, but also an automatic understanding of those thick summer raindrops and why tiny snowmen can be fun, too. Being home feels like that all the time. I brought my Mississippi flag to display in front of my apartment, but there’s nothing like someone recognizing it right away.  Being home feels like that all the time. 

David and his fianceé Sarah at the beach in Sarah’s hometown of Bay St. Louis.