To my friends here, who I drink beer - or Jack and coke - and watch college football with, take our kids to the county fair with, have girls' night out at the local Mexican joint with.... I'm a proud redneck woman, just like they are.

Play Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama" when we're around, and we'll stand and sing along. Insult the South, and we'll get redneck on your ass. We love our silly daisy duke shorts and Bud Light in a bottle all summer long. I've seen Jimmy Buffet in concert nine times, and know all the words to way more of his songs than just those on his "Songs You Know by Heart" album.

That's me. That's who I am, my friend.

But I am also a tenacious fighter for and believer in justice. I don't fuck around when it comes to issues of right and wrong, especially in my hometown. The problem is, many of us feel we are fighting the well-established demons at home, while having to simultaneously defend ourselves against stereotype-fueled attacks from folks elsewhere who ought to be in our corner.

Someone stop me now, before my drawl gets going so hard it is no longer intelligible!