Without hesitation, I describe my hometown as “above” Mobile and “below” Birmingham. If I’m visiting a friend in California and someone ask me where I’m from, I shift into my non-Southern dialect and use the terms “north” and “south” when pinpointing a town.
I had never given too much thought on geographical terminology until some bozo from a particular state from up north recently said there was a reason it was called “down south.” Until then, I had never looked at “down south” as a derogatory term, no more than I had “up north.”
I guess I’d also never thought about living “below” the Mason-Dixon line.
Do “down” or “below” project negative connotations?
Why don’t we just say I’m heading to the basement when going to New Orleans; or, we’re heading to the attic when visiting Canada?
It’s easy to use the “up” and “down” and “above” and “below” descriptions because from our earliest look at the globe we were taught that North America is above South America and Russia is above China. As for Australia, well, that was the “Land Down Under.”
“Down Under?” Wow, that’s a double whammy.
So, why is the map as we know it the map as we know it?
In the Middle Ages, maps often had what we know now as the east placed at the top.
According to the web site upside-down-maps.com, “… the convention of north-up is usually attributed to the Egyptian astronomer Ptolemy (90-168 AD). Justifications for his north-up approach vary.
“During the age of exploration, European cartographers again followed the north-up convention... perhaps because the North Star was their fixed reference point for navigation, or because they wanted (subconsciously or otherwise) to ensure Europe’s claim at the top of the world.”
Upside-down-maps.com shows the world from a different view. It’s as if you’re looking at the globe for the first time. As it is, the map is top heavy with 67 percent of earth’s land in what we call the Northern hemisphere.
However, flip the map – and there’s really no reason you can’t – and you’ll see the “fat” continents of Asia and North America seated at the bottom with the new Northern hemisphere overwhelmingly water.
A flipped map shows you the U.S. in a perspective I can promise you’ve never considered. We would be living in what could be called the “Great Northwest.” The Great Lakes would be southwest of Little Rock. And the funny thing is there’s no real scientific reason for the map to be viewed at any particular angle.
Looking at the flipped map actually gives a great perspective on geography. It shows that South America is actually not south, rather southeast of North America. If you drew a straight line up and down, the very edge of Florida’s eastern coastline would barely touch the western edge of South America’s coastline.
I don’t need to go to Europe to be “on top of the world.” A good chicken fried steak puts me in that mindset.
I wonder how confusing I would have been in the Middle Ages if I’d said to someone, “I’m going over yonder, outside of Little Rock, below Conway and up the creek (presumably without a paddle).” Is “over yonder” north, south, east or west? If it is south, would “over yonder” be perceived as a negative?
And if headed down south, below the Mason-Dixon Line, is indeed a negative, why is Florida filled with so many transplants that have willingly come down from “up” and “above?”
I prefer to believe that we store old clothes in the attic and fine wine in the basement. Welcome to our cellar. Also, let’s just leave the map as it is.