From Luton to St. Albans.... With my MP3 player on shuffle, I walk from school to Leagrave Station to take the train home. Alison Krauss's Down to the River to Pray comes on and my mind drifts back to my home in Tennessee. I see Nickajack Dam and the beautiful, green Sequatchie Valley surrounded by the Appalachian Mountains. I taste my stepmom's famous fried chicken, creamed potatoes, sweet tea, beans, and cornbread. I see farms, over whose soil slaves used to bend in the hot sun, picking cotton, singing hymns, somehow finding joy in that miserable life. I hear the music of a soft, friendly southern accent. I've slowly developed a new-found patriotism. I've always loved my country, and I've always loved being a southerner. But now, I feel downright PROUD of my homeland and grateful
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