Mississippi Transplant: Alex Melnick
"Mississippi has always felt like a home to me, or at least a place where I could breathe easier."
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 Operation Shoestring’s Communications Director and Millsaps Adjunct Professor Alex Melnick, who fell in love with Mississippi when she enrolled at Millsaps College in 2012.
Where are you from?
That’s an incredibly loaded question for me! Sometimes, I like to lead people on and imply I’m from “here.” I’ve spent my entire adult life here, and I feel some bitterness in saying that I’m a transplant. But saying you’re from here when you were born elsewhere isn’t how this state really works.
So, another true answer is that I’m from Jupiter, Florida. Jupiter is in Palm Beach County, just an hour or so outside of Miami. It used to be a small beach town, and now it’s probably most famous for being the home of Tiger Woods and the Trump boat parade. I don’t think I’ve ever really untangled how I feel about Jupiter, the place, from how I feel about my experiences there, but I am thankful I grew up on the beach. I also feel a small sense of schadenfreude when I see what’s been going on politically in Florida. Mississippi has always been America, and now Florida is waking up to the fact that they’re Mississippi, too.
When did you move to Mississippi and why did you move here?
I moved here in 2012 to attend Millsaps College. I still have no idea how I had the chutzpah to move to Jackson, sight unseen, on my own. I literally knew no one in the entire state. I just felt like it was the right thing for me to do at the time, and it was— the moment I got out of the airport, I immediately had a desire to live here. It might’ve been the Jackson sunset, might’ve been the really cute college junior who picked me up, the way the summer air felt, or somewhere in between all that. Mississippi has always felt like a home to me, or at least a place where I could breathe easier.
Mississippi has always felt like a home to me, or at least a place where I could breathe easier.
There were a few signs when I was growing up that, in retrospect, meant that maybe the move to Mississippi wasn’t as random as I thought it was when I was 18. Donna Tartt’s book, The Little Friend, was one of my favorite books growing up, and there was a period when I obsessively watched O Brother Where Art Thou on the bootlegged Russian DVD my dad brought back from a business trip from Moscow. I always wanted to live in a place that felt like it had a culture and a tangible history instead of the prefabricated community that Palm Beach County was turned into. Man, did Mississippi deliver on that.
What does “home” mean to you? How does Mississippi fit into that definition?
I’m just now starting the process of discerning what a home “feels” like. I think it's waking up in a house and knowing that you’re in a place that is a permanent fixture in your life. It’s the sense of being and belonging that no one can take away from you. Home is my friends, home is driving every day to Bailey Avenue and getting mad about the traffic lights being out, and home is knowing where the prettiest spot is in Jackson when it rains.
For me, home is all about being known, and I feel profoundly known here. There’s so much more of Mississippi for me to know, and it’d take me longer than my whole lifetime to know it. That’s such a gift, and part of home to me is feeling an endless gratitude that I’m lucky enough to live in this state. More often than not, I feel at home in Mississippi, and I like the life I’ve created here.
For me, home is all about being known, and I feel profoundly known here.
What do you miss most about the place where you’re from?
I miss the beach, like the beach beach. I love the Coast, but it can’t compare to what it’s like to be at Jupiter Beach. Until my friend recently rented an apartment with a pool, I’d forgotten how much of an effect the water has on me. When I was a teenager, the beach was the default bar/restaurant/party spot we’d all gather at. We had our own spot: Shower 42! I have a lot of favorite places here, but none are beautiful in the kind of way the Atlantic Ocean is beautiful.
How have you cultivated community in Mississippi? Who are the people who have made you feel rooted here?
I love my friends so much! I have people in my life who have known me for over ten years and watched me grow, people who have only met this version of me and are watching as I become whoever I end up becoming next, and so many people who remember tiny details and stories about me that I’ve never noticed or that I’ve forgotten. I feel a genuine joy every day that I get to spend my life with so many people I love, and that I get to do the mundane things of life with them. That’s really what the meat and bulk of our lives are– those quiet, small pleasures. I’m so lucky that so many people I love live here too, and that the people I love who left usually find their way back here as well. This place has a way of pulling you in, no matter how and why you left it.
My phases of life here are all tangled together, so a short answer is that my Millsaps-Mississippi Teacher Corps-Delta-Jackson people are what roots me here, and what helps me make sense of who I am and where I’m going.
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?
This isn’t the weirdest in terms of being “kooky,” but the amount of people who feel comfortable disparaging teaching in Mississippi or the kids of Mississippi is so weird to me. I will never understand why people feel empowered to make light of someone’s home or to talk about people they care about in cruel ways. It should be a basic social norm, right?
[T]he weirdest assumption I encounter is that we’d be okay with someone insulting us to our faces. And that there’s something inherent about all of us that is fair game for insulting.
I was at a music festival in Lafayette this year, and some guy I peripherally knew kept finding so many ways to make small, snide comments about Mississippi. Eventually, I lost my temper and asked him why he felt like it was okay to say those things about Mississippi to someone who lived there. (I’m understating it a little bit—I definitely got into his face and made him leave.) So, that is all to say that the weirdest assumption I encounter is that we’d be okay with someone insulting us to our faces. And that there’s something inherent about all of us that is fair game for insulting.
How has living in Mississippi affected your identity and your life’s path?
Well, my entire life path has unfolded as it did because I lived in Mississippi. Simple as that. Because I lived in Mississippi, I became a teacher and because I became a teacher, I ended up in the current roles that I have.
Until recently, I hadn’t had the luxury of considering how much I gave up to live here. In a way, Mississippi has absolutely made me more myopic. It’s taken a while to fully realize how much I gave up when I was 18, and how much I can't ever get back because that world is effectively gone—I missed my two younger siblings becoming adults, and the people I grew up with have lives radically different from my own now. The absence of who’s and where’s have shaped who I am just as much as the people I met and where I became rooted. Things like regret aren’t really applicable to this sort of thing because I’d only become the person I am by living here. I don’t know who I would be if I never moved to Mississippi and so I can’t grieve or regret that—I just know I’d be someone else.
I also enjoy the look on people’s faces when I tell them that I’ve been all across this country and to many places around this world, and Jackson is still my favorite city.
What is something that you’ve learned about Mississippi only by living here? In what ways has Mississippi lived up to your expectations?
Mississippi has the most potential of anywhere in this country, and people are accessing that potential every day. There are just as many, if not more, stories of creativity and joy in this state taking place as there are stories about what this state does to hurt people here. I know it takes an incredible amount of privilege to say this, but I think Mississippi is the most exciting place in the world. (I also enjoy the look on people’s faces when I tell them that I’ve been all across this country and to many places around this world, and Jackson is still my favorite city.)
I think I came to Mississippi with my only expectation being that moving here wouldn’t be a disaster, and I think the state has exceeded that expectation every single day. Moving here was definitely the opposite of a disaster. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.
Have you ever thought about moving away? Does a sense of duty keep you rooted here? Do you have a “tipping point”?
I think it’s something between duty and sheer stubbornness that keeps me rooted here.
This isn’t a flattering story, but I told my husband pretty early on that my one condition of us being together was that we could never move out of this state. He’s said that he sometimes feels like I’m married to Mississippi or that my relationships will always come second to the state. I don’t necessarily agree, but he has a very valid point. I take it very personally when people leave here—like it’s a rejection of me or my beliefs and hopes, too. I just believe in and want so much for this place that it bleeds into my relationships too. Like I said, this answer is not that flattering, but it’s an important fact in understanding why I am the way that I am.
I used to think that maybe losing access to reproductive healthcare would be my tipping point, but the Dobbs decision arrived and I’m still here. I think my work as a clinic escort at the Jackson Women’s Clinic changed my mind about that particular “out.” There’s still lots of work to be done here in terms of abortion access. The end of the world has already come so many times to Mississippi. I might as well stay here.
What do you wish the rest of the country understood about Mississippi?
This has come up a few times in this newsletter, but I wish the rest of the country knew that they too live in Mississippi, and I wish they understood what that really entails for all of us. It's an equal parts hopeful and terrible thing.
Alternatively, I wish the rest of the country understood that if you took five minutes to investigate a truly quality movie, book, song, or art piece, more often than not you’ll find Mississippi’s fingerprints all over the thing.
There’s still lots of work to be done here in terms of abortion access. The end of the world has already come so many times to Mississippi. I might as well stay here.
Do you have a favorite Mississippi writer, artist, or musician who you think everyone needs to know about?
Sue Carrie Drummond, Eric Charlton, and Victoria Meek are my favorite Mississippi artists right now.
The band Big Clown is also excellent. I think they claim Memphis, but to me they’re a Mississippi punk band. The music scene in our state is so rich—it’s hard to settle on a favorite.
If you had one billion dollars to invest in Mississippi, how would you spend your money?
I’d set up an abortion fund open to anyone who needs it in Mississippi. To me, that’s a huge investment in the quality of life of Mississippians.
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.)
Oh gosh, here’s my speed run: I love CS’s. What Turner Martin has been doing with the Jackson Municipal Art Gallery is nothing short of incredible. Molly and Cody at Urban Foxes and The Heights are a true blessing for our city. We Engage is still doing the work countering anti-abortion protestors and knows more than anyone about how to disrupt narratives around abortion stigma. Also, I know I’m biased because I work there but I think Operation Shoestring is amazing. Y’all come volunteer.
I love this Substack. I’m back in Mississippi after 40+ years in Houston. I’m also a Millsaps grad and it shaped my life. My parents were from Michigan and we moved to Meridian when I was 2. When people ask me where I’m from, I always say I grew up in MS; I know “my people” aren’t from here! Anyway, your interviews are fascinating to me. It’s always a complicated relationship.
"This has come up a few times in this newsletter, but I wish the rest of the country knew that they too live in Mississippi, and I wish they understood what that really entails for all of us. It's an equal parts hopeful and terrible thing. “
A really pregnant thought which applies not only to Mississippi but to all peoples everywhere, to this world we inhabit together.
Great piece, thank you.