Prefunking. Don’t know what it means? Neither did I until this past weekend.

Prefunking, also known as pregaming to those of us in the SEC, is the Seattlite version of drinking prior to the actually party.

I have officially been in Seattle for three weeks and what I have come to learn is that while people are friendly enough, they are missing the southern charm and warmth I came to know and love during my time at UA. This past weekend I attended my first Seattle house party, complete with beer pong, a bonfire and something called 99 bananas (take my advice and never try it).

Everyone was friendly and welcoming but at the same time managed to maintain a distance that I am not accustomed to seeing in Alabama. There seemed to be an understood wall that they were not going to breach, a feeling that although they were willing to be sociable they were not willing to forget that I was an outsider… at least not right away.

Having spent the last three years in the land of Roll Tide where you are everyone’s best friend on the quad on gameday and people acknowledge and greet strangers on the street, this is a strange concept to comprehend. If you know me, then you know that I have never met a stranger, never been one to shake hands when a hug is so much more fun, and never ever been the type who is at a loss for something to say, even to someone I barely know. This purposefully maintained reserve lasted until curiosity and more than a few swigs of 99 bananas eased inhibitions and loosened tongues.

I was an oddity and they wanted answers; asking me questions like, why don’t you have an accent? How could you possibly live in Alabama? Aren’t they all a bunch of “redneck racist hicks”?

I answered the only way I knew how. I regaled them with stories of Bryant Denny Stadium packed with 101,000 of the best fans in college football, of an institute that fights for progressive change in the state, of a program that documents social injustices, of the pride Alabamaians have in tradition, and of friends that made my time at UA unforgettable.

Some laughed, some looked at me like I had lost my mind (because no way could Alabama be all that I made it out to be), but everyone understood that what I said came from the heart.

While my goal was to tear down the obvious misconceptions these people had about the state that I called home for three years, my little tirade also reminded me that while I may not technically be from Alabama, I have earned the right and the obligation to defend it against those who’s antiquated ideas keep Alabama from moving forward.

Seattle has treated me well thus far, and I have no doubt that I will eventually find a way to break through the icy exterior that seems to keep people here from becoming instant best friends. If nothing else I will certainly continue to combat stereotypes that the word Alabama seems to bring to mind for many Seattlites.          Through Yankee-turned-Southern-Belle transplants like me, the people of Seattle will learn to open up, hug new people, and not judge the current state of Alabama based on Forest Gump and The Help.

So here I’ll be, prefunking and debunking until I’ve melted every social barrier, set the record straight about every Alabama urban myth, and introduced the wonders of sweet tea to every Seattle hipster. Feel free to come visit and as always, Roll Tide.

Jessica Kuperburg is a graduate of The University of Alabama and a resident of Seattle.