Letters

Dear Mr. Sullivan,

As a youth of Appalachia, I would like to express my interest in your article “In Appalachia, people watch COVID-19, race issues from afar.” I would like to commend you for drawing attention to our region. However, in this article that has been published by the nationally renowned Associated Press, I believe that you have drastically distorted the truth of Appalachia.

I recognize that our region suffers from widespread poverty and substance abuse, and that those issues are significant enough to correctly draw public attention. These are issues that we, as Appalachians, wrestle with everyday, and ones we should work to address. However, the struggling population of our region, although fighting with these problems, is also unique, rich with culture, and profoundly resilient. By virtue of your national publication, you have been afforded immense power to influence people and their perceptions of others. Why, then, were the positive attributes of our region barely referenced?

I can’t help but to wonder what the purpose of writing this article was. As a journalist, I’m sure you’re familiar with the danger that comes from providing only one perspective of a story. The story you told included the following description of our area: a pit, filled with homelessness, substance abuse, poverty, failure, backwards baseball caps, outhouses, and broken dreams, inaccessible to the rest of the world, and inescapable by its inhabitants. If you were to ask me or any number of my family or peers what life was like in Appalachia, your product would have been much different, and frankly, what you have produced is personally offensive.

I learned in my early education that because I was from Appalachia, I was going to be at a disadvantage. People believe that Appalachia is a place where dreams die, that the people there are grossly incompetent, and that their views are invalid. What those people don’t know, though, is that we make huge (and successful) efforts to improve our weaker links, or that we have a greater knowledge and pride in our heritage and hometowns than can often be found in a more populous city. Our values run deep. I am hesitant to even send this letter to you, however, because I worry that I will be looked over as another disgruntled Appalachian complaining that my hometown has been represented with “stereotypes about poor and ignorant mountain people.” Where does this inferiority complex begin? I’m not sure, but I do know that it is perpetuated in stories like yours. Your article is more than a personal offense, but an active suppression of my people.

I am a hopeful young woman. I am confident and excited to move into my future, and I feel that I have accomplished much in my educational career. As I approach my high school graduation, I feel that I have been successful, but I am not an oddity. My class as a whole is bright, resilient, joyful, and ultimately hopeful. Your writing is discouraging to an optimistic group like us when we are lumped into a hopeless stereotype. I hope that you’ll consider the bigger picture in the future.

With hope for the future and for my hometown,

Kristen Clark

Dear Mr. Sullivan,

When I think of Appalachia, I think of my grandmother Evelyn’s house, full of delicious food and my loving family waiting to celebrate another Christmas or Thanksgiving together. I think of my grandmother Bernetta and her love for baking desserts, as well as her immense quilting skills. When I think of Appalachia, I am reminded of my home, situated patiently in the woods of Bidwell, OH, waiting to be recognized, and waiting to be understood.

However, when others think of Appalachia, they think of impoverished, addicted, ignorant white people. I was born out of wedlock to parents who have never attended University, but nevertheless support President Donald Trump. I also happen to attend a high school that is, by many standards, subpar and full of underachievers. It’s incredibly easy to paint someone as impoverished and uneducated when you only include details supporting that notion. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie summarizes the damaging effect of stereotypes in her TedTalk Danger of a Single Story when she states: “Show a people as one thing, only one thing, over and over again, and that is what they become.”

First and foremost, I am not my generalization, nor is my family. However, that often does not matter. To those who have never met me, I am not creative, intelligent, or empathetic; I am an ignorant, hateful, white girl whose worldview barely makes it past my driveway. My parents, according to their generalizations, no longer work at the local coal-burning power plant, nor do they gross enough income to be considered upper middle class, and they surely support President Trump for the sole fact that they hate all minority status people within the United States, not for the fact that they simply want enough job security to ensure that my sister and I can continue college, and so my autistic brother will be able to be provided for. After all, we are Appalachian, how could we be any different?

It is easy to judge a house by the outside, even though its true depth and beauty lies on the inside. Unfortunately, the inside is rarely looked upon. I can’t help but believe that Appalachia is the same.

I had my first taste at understanding what it felt like to be judged as Appalachian at the age of 14. I was at Ohio’s State History Day, and I was over the moon; my performance of Temple Grandin went exceptionally well, as did my best friend’s performance. We had half the building convinced that we would be moving to National History Day in Washington D.C.: the chance of a lifetime for a couple of bright-eyed 8th graders. It didn’t take long to find out that we hadn’t advanced, and through my angry, hot tears I begged my history teacher “Why? Why was my performance not good enough?” and only two words escaped her mouth--“We’re Appalachian.” I can still feel the gut-wrenching reaction to when I later found out that my performance was scored as 4th place, one place shy of winning. It was three inner-city students who beat me. It was also later discovered that my best friend was never even scored.

I recall that day in April of 2017 quite often, and it took me quite awhile to understand those two words and why they explained my failure. Appalachians are labelled ignorant, thus I had to have been as well. My performance was that of pure luck, not my intelligence. I could not possibly perform well again in Washington D.C., why even bother advancing me?

Unfortunately, the damaging perspective on successful Appalachians is also captured on those who advance beyond the foothills of their hometown. They are labeled as “outsiders” and the “lucky ones.” Their success and intelligence is not a factor of their education, but as a fluke in the system. After all, Appalachians are supposed to be unintelligent, right? Inadvertently, this creates an insatiable competitiveness amongst peers that only leads to complacency and timidness-- “I am not as smart as [insert successful Appalachian here], which must mean that I am not smart at all.” It is this attitude that I have seen every day for four years that continues to make Appalachia stagnant.

Mr. Sullivan, I am writing this letter to express to you the importance of adequate and fair representation, and not just in your article, but in every. It is imperative to understand that Appalachia is more than meets the eye, and that allowing for the development of such one-sided journalism negatively impacts all Appalachians, and not just in the sole manner of underrepresenting. Appalachia needs to be viewed from the inside, and it needs to be more than its single, negative story. I fear for the future of my culture and region if justice is continuously ignored.

I ask you, Mr. Sullivan, why is there only one story of Appalachia, and why have you chosen to only give rise to that one? Availability of people willing to share their story cannot be your concern, as I lived a mere four miles from Tasha Lamm, and I am more than willing to share the story of my home, inside and out.

Sincerely,

Rebecca Pearce

Dear Mr. Sullivan,

I’m a senior at River Valley, which is a high school in Bidwell, Ohio. In my English class, we analyzed your article, “In Appalachia, people watch COVID-19, race issues from afar.” To begin, you largely portrayed Appalachia as an area with little to no wealth, raging levels of poverty and drug use, a depressing atmosphere, and a continuous life-cycle of failure within careers. While Appalachia may have some of these variables, it does not describe us as a whole.

Although many counties and states in the Appalachian area have many flaws, we are just like the rest of the United States, but you failed to fully acknowledge that. In the article you stated, “It’s easy to dismiss COVID-19 in these sparsely populated rural counties, some of which can still count their deaths from the virus on one hand,” this is very untrue to the fact that Ohio has 5,373 deaths due to Coronavirus. Although Appalachia is a small place, we feel these affects the same as everyone else in the United States. Our cases may not be severe as others, but it has affected our little town too.

Also Chris Chimel, an Athens County farmer, stated, “We have a lot of things that other people don’t have,” which I strongly believe to be true. A lot of people in Appalachia are self-reliant and can use little resources to make a living. This is a very important skill to me because although we can live just like others, we can also live without relying on materialistic things. Even in times of need, our small communities always come together and offer help even when they are struggling themselves. I consider this to be the most admirable trait of Appalachia that most places in the United States severely lack.

Finally you stated, “ We saw empty schools and boarded-up churches. Main Street in Shawnee, an old coal town that once boasted an opera house, a vaudeville theater, dozens of stores and plenty of taverns, is now one abandoned building after another.” I think this is one of the things that I love most about my community. Old buildings show our history and don’t always necessarily mean “poverty.” The old buildings and “ghost towns” show the past of our little towns. It gives us something to look back on. Sure, we could tear them down, but that’d be erasing our history and throwing our memories away. Just like other places around the world, we value our community and decide to keep the landmarks that we deem important to us.

Appalachia is a wonderful place to live. Not only is the scenery beautiful, but the people here are strong, resourceful, resilient people. Our community flourishes with crops, hundreds of thousands acres of wooded area, beautiful wildlife, and various small family-owned businesses. This might not be a lot to other people, but it’s more than enough for us. If you only focus on one stereotype, that’s how you’ll view the whole area. This is untrue, just because there are some negatives in Appalachia, doesn’t mean it’s not also flooded with positives. I wish everyone could consider the vastness of our region and not only spread the negatives.

Sincerely,

Liberty North

Dear Mr. Sullivan,

My name is Kelsey Jones and I am a senior at River Valley High School in Bidwell, Ohio. I recently read your article “In Appalachia, people watch COVID-19, race issues from afar” in which you mention my town. I have lived here my entire life and I absolutely love it. However, I do not see the things I do cherish about my home mentioned in your reporting.

Throughout your article you tend to interview people that say Appalachia is a horrible place to live with no opportunities to offer. While that may be true for them, Appalachia is one of the most beautiful places with many opportunities. In your article you interview an individual named Tasha Lamm who is a high school dropout. During that interview she states, “I'm ready to leave this place and everyone in it, because I know there’s something better waiting for me.” Unfortunately Tasha Lamm has not had a good experience here but that doesn’t mean Appalachia is horrible for everyone. We all have different experiences and different opportunities. Focusing on one side of how Appalachia is portrayed and publishing that to the world is going to continue the stereotype that we are poor and uneducated.

Tasha Lamm refers to my home as a “hellhole,” and while, again, she is entitled to feel that way, you have overlooked the numerous positive aspects of my home that make it so unique. For example, Bidwell is filled with many successful hard working people. Many families love it here because of the farm life and it is a peaceful place to live. Here in Bidwell we have many school organizations that help get the kids and their families involved in the community. For example, the Leo Club at River Valley High School hosts an easter egg hunt for all kids and their families to come to. Gallipolis In Lights is a community gathering where many residents put up Christmas trees in remembrance of their loved ones who have passed away. These are just a few examples of organizations that brings many families and the community together.

Appalachia is very beautiful and different. Focusing on the bad side of Appalachia and not talking about the many different things that are unique to not only me but to many other Appalachians, continues the stereotype that I live in a poor city. It makes me feel embarrassed that there is only one part of Appalachia being shown to the world when there are many different stories that can be told.

Sincerely,

Kelsey Jones