PicoBlog

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 archivist, poet, and preserver of Mississippi stories, Laura Heller.

Where are you from?

I grew up during the 1980s and 1990s in Madison County, near but not in Gluckstadt. I had the whole Madison County experience of public schools, merged high schools, and growing communities bursting at the seams. 

Why did you leave Mississippi? Where did you go?

After earning a library and information science degree from the University of Southern Mississippi, I accepted a grant-funded position at Berea College, in Berea, Kentucky. I loved the arts community of Berea, which also welcomed people from all faiths, cultures, and backgrounds. While in Kentucky I felt I had the freedom to discover who I truly was.  

I easily found the closest LGBTQ bar in Lexington and visited it with the intent of making friends and maybe finding a love interest, which I did, briefly. I’ve since read that young queer twenty-somethings of my generation often didn’t come out until they left their hometown or even home state. This was the case for me. Thankfully my family accepted my new revelation when I came out to my mom in 2004 as bisexual. It was the label at the time that I felt comfortable taking on; however, my love interest had self-esteem issues and broke up with me after four months. Nonetheless, I knew my super-selective attraction to women was as real as my occasional attraction to men. 

I continued to feel at home in Kentucky, and was even a faculty sponsor of the college’s Gay-Straight Alliance for students.  I never had that experience in high school or college, but felt proud to provide a space where students could be themselves and celebrate at a Pride Dance each year.

Why did you return to Mississippi?

I did not return to Mississippi right away after the grant project ended in Kentucky. I accepted an archivist position in Oklahoma City at the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum and lived there for five years. I felt out of place even though I was accepted as a bisexual by new friends; I did not feel comfortable being out at my new place of employment, though many coworkers seemed open and accepting of the diversity in that metropolitan city. 

When my position ended, I returned home to Mississippi. Honestly, I was conflicted about coming home. I wanted to see more of the world, visit cities that are diverse where I may not have to be guarded about who I love and why. But I missed my family and I also wanted to be closer to home, to Southern landscapes that inspire my writing and art. I also ached to continue learning Southern history that was not taught in my high school history books. I wanted to work for an archives that actively preserved everyone’s histories and stories. After working for a little over a year as a public librarian, I accepted my dream job as an archivist in the Archives and Records Services Division of the Mississippi Department of Archives and History. 

Mississippi is a jigsaw puzzle of every social, economic, and political group imaginable and somehow we are working to fit together.

Was the Mississippi you returned to the same one you had left?

Mississippi is both an ever-evolving place and a place that constantly looks back and reveres its history. This is a love-hate relationship for me. When I left in September 2004, I was leaving a place that gave me wonderful summers wandering by creeks and climbing trees and books filled with stories by Eudora Welty and poetry by Natasha Trethewey. Though I was not fully aware of it as a somewhat naïve 28-year-old, I was also leaving a political landscape that was not welcoming to a young person seeking to understand her sexuality in a safe environment. 

When I returned in 2014, my personal worldview had grown. I had befriended people from so many backgrounds in Kentucky and Oklahoma. I understood more about my own rights at risk, but I especially learned of the civil and human rights that others who did not look like me still unfairly lacked. In both states, I participated in protests at state capitols, human rights marches, Pride marches, legislative writing campaigns, and voting registration efforts.

Coming home to Mississippi, I wanted to do all I could to help those whose voices are being ignored, overlooked, or silenced. I intentionally bought children’s books by people of color and queer people for the public library where I worked in Hinds County. Later, I initiated an outreach effort to LGBTQ+ Mississippians to collect and preserve their papers at the state archives. I participated in the Mississippi Federation of Democratic Women, served on the planning committee of Mississippi Capital City Pride, and currently moderate an LGBTQ monthly book club. I am living a more authentic life, and I’m happy. 

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

Home has always been where my mother lives, where my sister lives, where my aunts and uncles live. Nearly every week we have dinner either at my mom’s house or at my wife Ashley’s parents’ house. These are times to share what has been going on in our lives, hear about my mom’s long-time friends in Rolling Fork or a gallery showcasing some of her art, talk about recent news or a new movie, or just spend time enjoying a southern home-cooked meal together. My sister Beth, who is six years older than me, lives in Memphis, and her house feels like home to me because she is there. Even though we drove each other crazy throughout our childhood, we have always been there for each other. I am glad we have each other when we can share the big happy moments, like when my nephew got married, or the difficult times, like getting through the pandemic. She has a tender heart for what is right and wrong, believes in people being treated with kindness when they’re vulnerable, and she has always included me not just because we’re sisters but because we’re friends.

I love talking to Mississippians of all walks of life and telling them their stories are worth sharing, preserving, and including among the collections at the state archives. Our history is a complicated one, but I do not think preserving all the complexities of Mississippi’s history is complicated.

Home is a place where you can be your most authentic self and still feel unconditional love and acceptance.  Sometimes that is a small bubble of friends and/or family, and sometimes that is an entirely different community. I know I am lucky that my family is part of what makes Mississippi home for me, as well as a circle of friends who continue to stay here to fight for LGBTQ+ equality. Every year there is more at stake in such a divisive political landscape, both nationwide and statewide. 

How have you cultivated community in Mississippi? Who are the people who have made you feel rooted here?

Every time I moved to a different state I figured out a little more about myself and how I fit into the world around me. While in Kentucky I fell right in place with my fellow archivists, and soon they introduced me to old-time Appalachian music which led me to meeting local musicians and songwriters. I also wrote poetry and led a weekly free-writing group of established and aspiring authors for peer-reviewing, encouragement, and friendship. I joined the Kentuckians for the Commonwealth and met many people working to improve life for all people in Kentucky. I felt rooted because there were plenty of people who made me feel included.

When I moved to Oklahoma I worried if I would ever make new friends and fit in as much as I did in Kentucky. It took me a long time to find my niche. Eventually I went to a poetry reading at Full Circle Bookstore. The next time I attended, I read a few of my poems. Poet Jeanetta Calhoun Mish, who later served as Oklahoma’s twenty-first poet laureate, soon became a friend and encouraged my writing. I met other Oklahoma writers, artists, and musicians mainly through the Oklahoma Visual Arts Coalition and through house concerts put on by poet Lauren Zuniga’s mother. It took a while, but I felt rooted in Oklahoma because people made me a part of their communities.

When I moved back to Mississippi and to my hometown, it took me a very long time to find community again. I did not feel connected to my old high school, my former classmates, and many of those I remained connected to had moved out of state. I worked in the public library, building a book collection and providing a weekly children’s storytime.  I relinquished myself to routine. But when I saw my dream job posted, I applied and was offered the position. My coworkers at the state agency welcomed me and I had a sense of purpose and a mission. I love talking to Mississippians of all walks of life and telling them their stories are worth sharing, preserving, and including among the collections at the state archives. Our history is a complicated one, but I do not think preserving all the complexities of Mississippi’s history is complicated.

I began volunteering at the Mississippi Food Network, became more involved in work events, and took on a secretary/treasurer role in the Society of Mississippi Archivists. I decided to date again. Eventually I met so many people in the LGBTQ+ community in Jackson, I joined Mississippi Capital City Pride so that I could be part of a group providing change, support, and community. All this is to say that each time I moved, I have found community again through the people working to make sustainable change. These are the people who make me feel rooted in Mississippi now.

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?

When I was in high school I had a fascination with Russian culture and language. I had a series of pen pals from Russia, Kazakhstan, and Ukraine. My parents learned of ASPECT Foundation, a student exchange program that formed in support of the Freedom for Russia and Emerging Eurasian Democracies and Open Markets Support Act of 1992 (aka FREEDOM Support Act). Fifteen-year-old Rano from Tajikistan came to live with our family my senior year of high school. I love that I had this opportunity to learn from a peer from another country, and the program allowed for hosting families to gather and meet each other. There were students from all over the former USSR staying in Mississippi, as well as students from Germany, Switzerland, Macedonia, France, Italy, Brazil, and Colombia. When Rano was settled in, she told us what her Tajik community imagined about our family and state: poor, 100% African American, no televisions, and other misconceived ideas of Mississippi. She was able to go home explaining that Mississippi had a lot of culture and entertainment, her host family had comfortable accommodations, and that her classmates were as diverse as could be. She also took a bit of our accent home, saying “y’all” as fluently as if she were native to this state.

Nonetheless, my passion about working in the archives is about the people, their personal histories, and making sure that is part of the history we share about our state.  I love that I get to learn so many unique stories of Mississippians. 

How has living in Mississippi affected your identity and your life’s path?

I think throughout this questionnaire I may have answered this question in a myriad of ways. However, family is one of the greater parts of my identity. My youth included appreciating wildlife and nature from my maternal uncles who both worked for the Mississippi Department of Wildlife, Fisheries, and Parks in different capacities. Through my uncles and their families I grew up exploring creeks and fields with my cousins.  That is the foundation of my love of camping at Mississippi State Parks now.

After returning to Mississippi, I was not sure how “out” I could be, and so I waited. I waited until I was in a relationship again before slowly coming out in every aspect of my life. My coworkers are supportive. My doctors are accommodating. One time I told the pharmacist that I was looking for something for my girlfriend, and I noticed he did not look at me funny when I said “girlfriend.” He treated me like any other patient, which is exactly the way it should be. In May 2023, when Ashley and I went to the Hinds County courthouse to apply for a marriage license, we were greeted with friendly faces just like the heterosexual couple applying at the same time. I think I am at the right time and right place, though I know this may not be the same for people in another county in Mississippi, especially not for trans people and queer people of color. Our state has a long way to go. When we go out of town, we have to gauge how welcoming every person or place may be before we can be ourselves.  

Nonetheless, my passion about working in the archives is about the people, their personal histories, and making sure that is part of the history we share about our state.  I love that I get to learn so many unique stories of Mississippians. 

What is something that you’ve learned about Mississippi only by living here? In what ways has Mississippi lived up to your expectations?

Every state is unique but also the same in the ways they are resilient, independent, and proud, and my experiences in Kentucky, Oklahoma, and Mississippi have taught me that we are all different and the same in so many ways. We’re fiercely independent, but we also love the close-knit communities we nurture with friends and family. We’re resilient, rebuilding our businesses, neighborhoods, and networks when torn apart by hurricanes, tornadoes, pandemics, and even sometimes political upheaval. We are boundlessly proud of our achievements, literary giants, civil rights leaders, though reluctant to fully accept responsibility for decades of systemic oppression. It is complicated to be both proud and ashamed of your home state’s history. Expectations may not be met, but as long as we continue to sincerely try to progress forward, instead of backwards, we will bloom.

Do you still think about moving away someday? Does a sense of duty keep you rooted here?  Do you have a “tipping point”?

With most people the main factor that roots them to a place is family. My passion for my work keeps me rooted in my home state, although I can imagine applying that same passion into similar projects if I were to pursue independent means to preserve and save Mississippi’s many stories. I truly loved the rolling foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in Kentucky, so that felt like a second home to me, though my spouse and I probably would never move there permanently. I think she keeps me rooted in Mississippi, too. For a long time Florida seemed a possible place for retirement, but the political landscape of “Don’t say gay” and anti-trans bills is discouraging. She loves being close to beach life, and I have switched from mountain love to coastal dreams, however Florida likely will never be anything more than a place to visit.  I think we will probably live out our lives in Mississippi, whether here in Jackson or somewhere closer to the coast.  

What do you wish the rest of the country understood about Mississippi?

There is a large number of people in Mississippi who do not want to go back to the Jim Crow era. There are people here who would give the shirt off their backs for any person in need, and there are people who are ready to give someone a hug when they need it.   

Mississippi is a jigsaw puzzle of every social, economic, and political group imaginable and somehow we are working to fit together. Sometimes the fit is forced in an attempt to mend age-old tensions. Other times the pieces fit together smoothly, creating growth for everyone. It is going to take accountability, respect, and willingness to learn from each other and the past to create a vision for our future. And it takes time to build a jigsaw puzzle; we are not all in the right place yet but we are working on it.

It is complicated to be both proud and ashamed of your home state’s history. 

Do you have a favorite Mississippi writer, artist, or musician who you think everyone needs to know about?

Natasha Trethewey is one of my favorite Mississippi poets, and her book Bellocq's Ophelia is the style of poetry I love best.  Those persona poems give voice to people who no longer have a voice. Trethewey’s life’s journey is inspiring and worth reading.  Everyone I know seems to love Ellen Langford’s paintings, and I am just another one of her fans.  She is also one of the kindest people you will meet and she commits herself and her artwork to worthy philanthropic projects as well. Mississippi has a wealth of artists, including my own mother—Kay Shropshire Heller—who is a member of both the Mississippi Artists Guild and the Delta Artists Association. If someone is looking for art, they should start here at home.

If you had one billion dollars to invest in Mississippi, how would you spend your money?

Oh what a dream!  I have so many interests and concerns that it is hard to even consider breaking up that sum across all of them. I would divide it up to support LGBTQ clubs in schools throughout the state, as well as other organizations that help LGBTQ people in underserved communities. I would designate some of it for public library programs and book collection development to reflect the needs of all patrons.  Allocate some money toward food pantries and access to sustainable community gardens so that people can benefit from healthy foods for healthy bodies. Monies would go toward fostering and encouraging growth and pride in Mississippi to hopefully counter the brain drain or lack of opportunities for up-and-coming professionals in this state. Monies might support a variety of fellowships, scholarships, and mentorships, as well as innovative entrepreneurs collaborating with long-standing businesses. 

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 am inspired by those I surround myself with, and many of them are Mississippians. When I was an undergraduate at the University of Mississippi, Blair Hobbs was a creative writing teacher who encouraged my pursuit in poetry; likewise, I am fascinated by her wonderfully intricate mixed media works of art. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention my cousins from Clinton who own ObscurO Jewelry; as two artists living in Richmond, Virginia, they have an artist bond made stronger by a sisterly love.  My sister introduced me to her friends in Memphis, one of which is artist Brantley Ellzey who is involved in MidSouth LGBTQ Chamber among a number of other organizations; his art is worth checking out.  

A couple of years ago Mississippi Capital City Pride started a virtual LGBTQ Book Club. We met once a month to discuss a book authored by or about an LGBTQ person or topics. Eventually I became the moderator and we have enjoyed several authors joining us via Zoom to talk about their book, including Pip Gordon, John Marszalek, III, Robert Fieseler, Lauren Hough, Silas House, Kristen Arnett, and Samantha Allen. It is a relaxed environment where my hope is that everybody feels comfortable sharing their feedback and how the book relates to their lives. Since the pandemic, we have opted to meet in person whenever the author cannot join us online. This community is a kind of home for me, and I feel rooted to its purpose and the friendships gained from it.

I’m a fan of reading The Bitter Southerner online, getting my books from Violet Valley Bookstore in Water Valley, drinking sour beers at Fertile Ground Beer Company in Belhaven, and eating my favorite panini—The Cayman—at Basil’s Downtown. There’s so much to enjoy in Jackson. Support local businesses. Support businesses owned by and employing queer and people of color. Support Mississippi.

Laura Anne Heller is a native of Madison County, Mississippi. She is a graduate of the University of Mississippi (BA, 2000) and the University of Southern Mississippi (MLIS, 2004). Since 2015, Laura has served as Acquisitions and Collections Coordinator with the Mississippi Department of Archives & History, Archives and Records Services Division. She has published poetry in  Round Table Literary Journal, Minerva Rising, Kindred Magazine, Blast Furnace, The Boiler Journal, Muddy River Poetry Review, Red Dirt Chronicles, Carillon, and contributed poems to Ain’t Nobody that Can Sing Like Me: New Oklahoma Writing. Her first collection, Lexington Lives: Poems for Those Who Lived & Died in Lexington, Kentucky, 1800s-1900s, was self-published in 2013 on Lulu.com. She lives in Jackson with her spouse Ashley, their cat Thelma, and an ever-changing little backyard garden.

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