Memoirs

WE ARE AMERICA

Casey Cox, teacher at Nelsonville-York

“We are so fortunate to live here.”

These words echo in my mind as I drive (probably faster than I should) down Woodlane Drive, otherwise known as Trashpile Road, on my way to work. Growing up in Nelsonville, my mother would repeat this mantra to my sister and me every time she drove us to school. As kids are prone to do, we would just shake our heads, roll our eyes, and interrupt her: “Yeah, yeah. We’re fortunate to live here. We get it mom…” It’s not that we didn’t appreciate the natural beauty of the land we grew up in. We did. As a kid, it’s just easy to take what life gives you for granted. For me, I know I didn’t fully appreciate two aspects of life growing up: the beauty of Southeastern Ohio and time spent with my grandpa.

In my younger years, my grandpa would take me on “history trips” around Nelsonville. While my memories of most of these trips mesh together, one trip in particular still sticks out to me: our trip to the Johnny Appleseed Roadside Park. I was ten years old and living in that wonderful, neverending world of summer break. The days were long, the sun was always out, and I often found myself in need of something to do. So one morning, my grandpa pulled up the long stretch of blacktop that was my parent’s driveway, I jumped in his Chevy S-10, and we were off. I loved everything about his S-10: the Rhino-Lined truck bed, the roll-down windows, and of course the tiny bucket seat in the back. I didn’t know it then, but my grandpa would eventually gift this truck to me during my junior year of high school. I drove that truck for ten years, and selling it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

As we traveled down my parent’s driveway, jostled along the bumpy brick roads of Nelsonville, and sped toward Haydenville, he asked me about myself, shared little history nuggets with me about our town, and shared parts of his life with me. The naive boy I was at the time, I assumed Grandpa was just bored and in need of something to do, but the older I get, the more I realize just how much these trips meant to him.

As we pulled in to this tiny roadside park, I learned about the rich history of the Hocking Canal, and I was in awe when I saw the lock. I immediately jumped down, marveling at this preservation of history. As I ran my hands along the smooth surface of the stone walls, life exploded all around me. Water was rising and lowering within the lock’s confines. A boat was slowly making its way toward me, carrying the coal that was the lifeblood and poison for this area for so many years. Children ran along the tops of the walls, and a couple of rebels jumped in to enjoy the refreshing cold of the lock’s waters on a hot summer day. What sticks with me most from that day, however, is the smile on my grandpa’s face as he saw how excited I was to explore this piece of history.

This park holds a special place in my heart today. When I revisit this lock, my experience is more than just an imagined experience of the way things used to be; now, I can feel my grandpa standing off to the side with his hands in his pockets, smiling from ear to ear because he got to spend the day with his grandson.

I mentioned before that I used to take this area for granted. Now I consciously find ways to feel gratitude for living in this area, and I want others to experience the beauty of Southeastern Ohio. In fact, a couple of years ago, I was coaching our school’s baseball team. We had a game against Federal Hocking, and I was sitting in the dugout with one of our players. Amazed by the rolling hills that provided the backdrop for the field, I told this player just how lucky we are to live in a beautiful place like this. His response was short, comical, and strangely profound to me:

“Wow. You really sound like an old man.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself for a moment, because I saw so much of myself in this player. Smiling, I fixed my gaze before me as the hills stretched onward in a sea of green, and for a moment, I swore I could see the hills of Southeastern Ohio touching the heavens.

Recently, Associated Press’ Tim Sullivan wrote an article about Appalachia’s experience with Covid-19 and our nation’s current race issues. It might just be the English teacher in me, but this example from his writing has stayed with me, and it came from his description of those of us who choose to stay in the region: “But to those who want to stay, bound to the hills and hollows where their families have lived for generations, ambition means finding a way to remain behind.” Remain behind. What a curious choice of words. How would the meaning of this sentence change if we replaced that phrase with the word stay? The word choice here implies that although we are following our ambitions, choosing to live in Appalachia somehow means falling behind the rest of America. While others progress forward, Sullivan repeatedly implies that our decision to stay isolates us from the rest of America: “Coronavirus deaths and protests for racial justice — events that have defined 2020 nationwide — are mostly just images on TV from a distant America.”

As a teacher witnessing the effects of COVID-19 firsthand on my school and on my region, I take issue with these statements. As a resident of Athens County who witnessed race-related protests in the small towns of Nelsonville and Athens, I take issue with these statements. As a grandson who chooses to stay here because his history and family is inextricably linked with the land of Southeastern Ohio, I take issue with these statements. We are not living in a distant America. We are America.

a single sunset

Leah Roberts of River Valley High School

When you read things about Appalachia, you might read that it is a drug- ridden community headed for nowhere. You might read that it is such a small community, and that it is not affected by the weight of the world. Appalachia is portrayed the same way in every article, every news story, and even a lot of movies. You never truly know what it is like unless you live there, and I do. When I think of Appalachia, I think about the people, the community, and the geography that it has to offer. My favorite thing of all though, are the sunsets. Living in Southeast Ohio for a majority of my life has taught me to value what the land has to offer, and to keep people close, because a lot of the time, people are all you have down here.

I recently moved houses, and in this new house, I have the perfect view of the sunrise in the morning and the sunset at night. Every evening when I come home, I walk in and take a whiff, and I get the comforting smell of dinner in the oven. There are beams of the sun shining in through the window. The sun is telling me it is time to unwind and watch the day end in the most beautiful way. It has become my favorite thing to do, and has made me appreciate this town and the geography that comes along with it. Just like every town, Gallipolis has its good things and its bad things, but when you find the one thing that makes you happy, you’ll never want to let it go. That’s what this sunset provides for me. I wouldn’t get this experience in a different area, and I definitely wouldn’t cherish it the way that I do if it wasn’t for growing up in this small, little town.

When it comes to the people, Appalachia is a very tight- knit community and most of the time everybody knows everybody. Every time you go to the store, you won’t make it out without talking to someone that you know. “Hey, it’s great to see you! How’s the family doing?”. This has made me appreciate the people and the relationships, but also the time that I get to myself. Family, friends, and traditions are important to Appalachia culture so therefore, they are important to me. I am grateful that these values have been instilled in me because of where I grew up.

A single story can change your entire perspective, just as a single sunset can change your entire day. “Coronavirus deaths and protests for racial justice — events that have defined 2020 nationwide — are mostly just images on TV from a distant America.” (In Appalachia, people watch Covid - 19, race issues from afar, Tim Sullivan) The power of my story is to hopefully change the perspective of outsiders that have never been influenced by this community and go against the stereotype that just because we are a small community, we are not affected by significant events in the world. If Appalachia can have this much affect on me as one single person, the world and its events can be felt just as hard, even with our smaller population. I wouldn’t want to grow up any other way, and I will forever have gratitude for the geography and the people of this environment that I have grown to love.

my home in appalachian ohio

Brooke McDonald of Nelsonville-York High School

When I was younger, my parents used to take my siblings and me on a weekly drive or walk. We were so young all of those years ago, which meant the whole event was full of joyous giggling and chatter. We pointed out any charming place, wildlife, or plants that we saw along the way. During these trips, we saw other people and families, we heard so many noises, and nature was everywhere. Sometimes we came across holes and sidewalk cracks, houses that needed a new paint job, or overgrown weeds. Every town has its imperfections, but does that not give it a unique character? Experiencing what life is like in a small community is different from what others see from the outside.

I was born and raised in southeastern Ohio. I have lived in Nelsonville for most of my life, growing up in a town with a close-knit community. I remember waiting in the grocery store while my parents stopped to chat with several people. I remember continuously answering the question, "who are your parents?" I remember visiting my grandparents multiple times every month. I remember my dad talking about how he helped build the giant clock tower near the square. In a small town like Nelsonville, everything has a history, and the residents know almost everyone. I moved away from Nelsonville two years ago, and I now live in the small town of Chauncey.

No matter where I live, I find that nature is always striking and beautiful. The difference between the four seasons is quite noticeable. Springtime is full of drizzling rain, earthy air, and blooming flowers. Summer days are relaxed, hot, bright, and have a fresh atmosphere. Fall has chilly winds, and warm colors are everywhere. Winter is cold, festive, and snow blankets the Earth. I watch the seasons as they change from my bedroom window. Time flies by as I do schoolwork, read, and listen to music. The outside is a beautiful distraction year-round.

My window curtains are wide open as the sun shines through on a chilly autumn morning. When I look out, there are various views outside of that window. In the morning, I see the sun causing the morning dew to glisten over a sea of grass and long-reaching tree limbs. Once the afternoon arrives, the sun shines brighter, and the tree creates shade over the newly dried grass. The evening comes, and the sun does not stay long as it grows darker outside. A deer and its babies come through looking for food at this time at least once a week. Every time I look out the window, I see the beauty of the surrounding nature.

I dream of leaving, not escaping. I want to experience more of life outside of the few Ohio towns I know by heart, but I know I will come back. Many outsiders would not view towns like Nelsonville or Chauncey as a great place to live. However, to several people, this is home. In “The Danger of a Single Story,” Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie states, "The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story. “ People that are not from around here have trouble seeing the Appalachian region as anything but the typical uneducated farmer stereotype. When people take the time to look past this stereotype, they can find something truly beautiful.

the importance of a single story

Javan Gardner of River Valley High School

The two most important men in my life are my dad and my grandfather. They know how to live off the land and make the most of a little. They are teaching me the same. They love to hunt whitetail deer every November in the woods that surround our homes and are very skilled at it. They even have friends from Northern Ohio that travel down to our part of Southeast Ohio during deer season to hunt with them. They say every year, “There is no better deer than a Southeast deer.”

My grandpa took my dad squirrel hunting as soon as he could safely hold a gun and he shot his first deer when he was ten years old. My dad has told me the story of his first deer enough times for me to know every single word. I could easily say “Dad, you’ve already told me this a thousand times,” but I don't, because when I hear him tell it, I can hear the pride in his voice.

That was just the first of many deer stories that I’ve heard him tell and they all always somehow involve his dad, my grandpa, or “Pappap” as I like to call him.

My Pappap is a man of few words, but he is as honest and hardworking as they come. He loves to do all the things that the media would describe an “Appalachian Man” to like. He likes to fish in the ponds behind his house, shoot rifles in his spare time, do firewood to keep my grandma and himself warm in the winter, and most importantly, he likes to hunt. But, he is so much more than that. He can’t be described or categorized just by the things he likes to do nor by where he lives. Not to mention, he is immuno-compromised and is sometimes taken down for weeks by the annual flu. He suffers from the long term effects of Chronic Kidney Disease. Flu season just so happens to be right at the heart of deer hunting season so sometimes he is too sick to hunt. He would never show it, but he really hates that he can’t do the one thing that he loves most with his friends and family all because of his compromised immune system.

So living in the world that we are today, with a threat even greater than the flu, it is becoming harder for him to live safely even in our small town. He hasn’t been to the grocery store in close to a year because the risk is just too high for him. My dad hasn't been able to visit his parents house in months--nor have I--just so that it stays as sterile of an environment as possible for him.

The media says that the pandemic hasn’t reached our communities here in Southeast Ohio, but I would like to beg to differ.

I was introduced to the hunting scene when I was eleven and I shot my first deer when I was fourteen. Initially, when I told my dad that I wanted to go hunting with him, he seemed a little surprised and mildly excited that his daughter took interest in his favorite hobby. He showed me how to shoot a gun, got me the state licensing I needed, and showed me how to be a good hunter. I can still remember the crispness of the air and it’s constant biting at my fingers, the reverberation of my heart thumping all the way in my throat, the boost of adrenaline taking over me, and the roar of pride in my dad’s voice after I had pulled the trigger.

When my Pappap heard that I had killed my first deer, he gave me the tightest hug I think he has ever given me. I believe that was his way of telling me that he was proud of me. I’m sure he was secretly grateful that this part of his legacy was being carried on through me, even though he would never outwardly admit how much it really meant to him. I will remember that day for the rest of my life, not because I shot a deer, but because I made the two most important men in my life proud by adding a new story to their collection.

In the TED talk, “The Danger Of A Single Story,” it is quoted that “The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.” The same goes for the people that live in Appalachia. Just take my Pappap for example, or something as simple as a “Southeastern deer.” It isn’t just another ”head” to put on an “Appalachian Man’s” wall like the media may portray it as, but it is a memory, a legacy, a story.

And in the end, isn’t that all we have left?

Our stories?

Cultural Transplant

Pearson Wilt of Nelsonville-York High School

I did not grow up in Appalachia. In fact, I just moved here in March of this year so I can’t fully understand some of the other student’s opinions and viewpoints on the article. However, after listening to the ted talk, combined with my experience here, I find myself frustrated with the article as well. One thing the article did not mention was the amazing national parks and nature here.

Prior to moving, my dad and I used to come down to hike some of the trails in Hocking Hills during the fall. One of my favorite memories I’ve had in recent memory was going to Old Man’s cave for the first time. I was absolutely blown away seeing the looming overhead cliffs and whispering caves interwoven throughout the vast waves of crimson and orange. There’s always been something enchanting and otherworldly about nature in southeastern Ohio to me. I remember being astonished by how picturesque every scene of every section of the trails were, and that feeling has stayed consistent every time I go.

The article also didn’t highlight the different protests we’ve had against police brutality. I actually attended one of these events that was held in the town square not long after the death of George Floyd and was honestly taken back by the amount of people present. The energy, as well as the atmosphere being created were something I haven’t experienced before. The people attending were ambitious and driven. They were welcoming to everyone it seemed, in fact after asking if I could join them in protesting one of the members said, “Of course! The more the better.” There was a strong underlying sense of peace and tranquility during the protest that was impossible to ignore.

I noticed that there were also no pictures of the parks, the schools, or the lively town square area in the article because it simply didn’t fit their agenda. Instead, this reporter decided to focus on highly poverty stricken areas which don’t account for the majority of our population. Note that the pictures were very dark and contrasted, giving off an ominous and almost apocalyptic feel. I did not feel that these pictures represented the community properly from my personal experience.

I also found it interesting that this reporter didn’t interview local business owners, supernatants, or high officials in the area. If I was writing an article about how a community is being affected by a national pandemic, I would think to interview at least a few local business owners to help paint a better picture of how their businesses, and financial situations are being affected. There’s some really great local businesses in town here, and my family has gotten to be friendly with some of the owners.

It was painfully obvious to see that this ignorant reporter had a clear agenda in the way he conducted the report which was unraveled progressively throughout the article. This is one of the many examples of why stereotypes still play a major role in our society today. These types of articles are what continue to fuel and reinforce stereotypes. To quote from the ted talk Chimamanda states, ““Show a people as one thing, as only one thing, over and over again and that is what they become.’’ I think this quote will unfortunately remain true for at least a very long time, and it can especially be applied to this article. In this day and age, it’s so important to develop the skills to spot when something’s not factual. The only way we can defeat these prejudices and stereotypes are by being more empathetic, and by recognizing that one story does not define a community of people.

State support system

Lauren Twyman of River Valley High School

Appalachia, although it may be small and looked down on by others, is a beautiful place that gives more opportunities than people think. “Yet it's impossible to paint a picture of this swath of Appalachia without describing its deep and pervasive poverty.” (AP article). It is not impossible to imagine this because nature is free, friends are free, family is free, a tight-knit community is free. Poverty may impact our community, but it is never impossible to overlook this and experience all the beauty that comes from the Appalachian area. The land and the people are some of the implements that make my town appear beautiful. This community, this area where I live, is shaping me into the person I want to be. I truly don’t think living anywhere else would give me these experiences. My experiences of living in Appalachia haven’t limited me personally, but it has allowed me to grab several opportunities that have come my way.

Throughout my highschool track and field and cross country career I have had many different experiences and valuable opportunities. When I was a freshman, I advanced to compete at the state track meet. When I was a sophomore, I competed at the state cross country meet. This year, as a junior, I competed once again at the cross country state meet. What did these experiences show me? Reminiscing on those memories now, they have shown me that just because I’m from a small town doesn’t mean I have to be small. The girls that I’ve competed with were from all over the state. Bigger cities, more populated areas, and me, well I was just from a little town in Appalachia called Gallipolis. Knowing this made it nerve-racking and scary for me, but I rolled with it knowing I was representing my community. The community's support behind me also made a big impact. I had several ‘congrats’ or ‘congratulations’ and support from my school, community, family, and friends each year after I competed. That’s what made those experiences unlike any other. That I could go do something that big and have the whole of my community behind me, that’s what really made it special.

I’d never want to change where I live now that I’ve proven that you can still get these new chances while living in a town as small as Gallipolis. Appalachia has taught me to love my neighbor, love my family and my friends, and love my community and all the great things that go along with living here. Appalachia has taught me that ‘poverty’ or not, there is always a way to make opportunities for yourself. Appalachia has taught me that I’m not as small as I think, that I can go out into the world and be big. Appalachia has taught me that if I do decide to be big, someone will have my back, always. This is something you won’t find anywhere else and this is why I am proud to live in Appalachia.

appalachiA: a complex story

Ciara McKinney of Nelsonville-York High School

Have you ever been to the hills of Appalachia? Have you experienced friendly people, gorgeous nature, and supportive personalities all in one area? That is what Appalachia consists of. Growing up in Nelsonville, Ohio has had a great impact on my life. As a seventeen year old, there are a lot of consequential decisions that can influence your life. Living in Nelsonville has shown me what becomes of most of those who make the wrong decisions. Although there are many downfalls to living in this town, there are also many perks.

Nelsonville is home to less than 6,000 people, all of which are friendly and amiable. Anyone in this town can agree with that statement, along with my grandmother. “My hometown of Nelsonville, located in Appalachia, may be known as an area of poverty to many. However, for me it is a community of caring, giving, and loving, which is a far greater treasure than wealth.” According to the AP article about Appalachia, you would not want to live anywhere near here. In actuality, I would not want to have been raised anywhere else. My family is middle class, and we live in the middle of town. Unfortunately, I witness a lot of the effects of drugs on people on the streets. Despite the fact that Nelsonville is home to a multitude of repulsive people, there are plenty more reasons why Appalachia does more good than harm.

Since I was young, my family and I have filled up plastic milk jugs and water bottles at the watering trough in Buchtel, Ohio. The AP article includes a picture of the old trough, where it is grimy with algae and spotted with dirt around the edges. In reality, the trough is now painted with a blend of dark and light blues, crystal clear water, and a clean basin. Outsiders see Appalachia as one thing; hideous. This is an example of a single story. Single stories lead to stereotypes and often racism. In her video about single stories, Chimanda Adichie says, “So that is how to create a single story, show a people as one thing, as only one thing, over and over again, and that is what they become.” Her video relates to us because Appalachia is viewed as a pigsty, considering that is the only story that is told. If you come to Appalachia, you will see that it is not a single story, but a complex story; there are so many elements that make it up.

In Nelsonville, the good outshines the bad. The people in this town glow like fireflies in the night sky. Everyone here chose to stay here for a reason; whether it be the close-knit community, friendly faces, outstanding school system, or job opportunities. Appalachia in general, (not just Nelsonville), is heavenly. There is so much to see and do in the outdoors of Appalachia. The slow change from green leaves to red, orange, and yellow is fascinating. Old Man's Cave in Logan, Ohio is the place to be if you want to get a glimpse of what living here is like. As you walk along the trails, you can feel the fall breeze and smell the crisp winter air that is arriving. Not only do the hiking trails at Old Man’s Cave display the beauty of nature in Appalachia, it also reveals the friendly personalities of the people you cross paths with. Although many outsiders perceive Appalachia as a disgusting, empty, and unsightly pigsty; the truth is that it is a beautiful, kind, and caring community that is scrutinized by a single story.

Ohio river traditions

Brooklin Clonch of River Valley High School

Every state, city, or region comes with their own ups and downs. Appalachian Ohio has been mentioned several times in several different articles. Almost every article focuses on the worst part of Appalachian Ohio, creating an unpleasant stereotype for everyone who lives here. What the viewers don’t get to read about, is the reason us southeast Ohioans are proud to have grown up or to be currently living here. There are so many different amazing aspects of southeast Ohio that no one talks about. Two of my favorite things about where I live are all of the fun activities that we choose to do outdoors as well as the people that we meet along the way.

About five or six years ago, my family bought a boat, followed by a camper. We have stayed at several different camping locations right along the Ohio River and the best thing about every single one of them is the relationships of all of the campers camping there. Everyone acts like they have known one another their whole lives, when the only reason they know each other is by camping at the same campground. Every summer me and my family go camping at the campground that we are currently staying at, it is a small but friendly place to stay. There are people from all over the United States that come to camp here and claim that they love it here and are going to continue to come back each year. Every time me and my family go boating on the river, we either take about a thirty minute boat trip to the riverside McDonald's to have lunch or we go the completely opposite direction to a public rope swing overlooking the water that almost every boat that passes by, stops at. There are so many more things that I love about southeast Ohio but this is something that not only I, but a lot of other people enjoy too.

AP news published a long article that talks about Appalachian Ohio. This article does not include one good thing about our region and if the readers of this article are trying to learn about southeast Ohio, they are going to judge us based on this single story. They are not going to have the need to read more about it which means that they will not be able to hear about all of the good things that make us proud of where we came from and experience it for themselves.

It is very important that you do not base anything on a single story. You have to be able to understand that there is never just one story that talks about a specific topic. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie spoke about her opinion on, “The Danger of a Single Story.” She says, “The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete.” A lot of people judge something based on just a single story and we need to learn to do the opposite. Although the AP article’s stereotype was not wrong, it was just not finished and did not include the entire story of Appalachian Ohio. Most southeast Ohioans are very proud of where we come from and we want more people to know the good sides of our region and want to encourage them to come visit and see how it is for themselves.

football friday nights

Andrew Carter of Nelsonville-York High School

“There is no place like home,” this is a popular quote and I think it really applies to Nelsonville, my hometown. Nelsonville is always looked down upon, people have a single story about Nelsonville. They think that it is very poor, hopeless, rundown, and just a negative place. However, most of the people of Nelsonville would tell you that they love it here. We live here because we care about Nelsonville and it brings us happiness. It is such a beautiful place to be and see. I think people need to start expanding their horizon about the beauty and greatness of Nelsonville and Appalachian Ohio.

Walking out of the locker room for a football game on a beautiful seventy-degree Friday night with a breath of fresh air as the sun is beginning to set is a feeling like no other. Running out on the field with my teammates to the sound of the fans in the stadium roaring is something only a few can experience. One of the things I love most about it is everyone in the stands knows each other, and they are all cheering for the same goal. This is something that means a lot to me as a player, knowing they are going to be by my side no matter what happens. One specific thing that I remember in particular is my friend Colt saying, “Wow, it is truly amazing the support we get from all these people whether we win or lose.” Him saying this really made me think about how lucky we are to live here. To us living here is as great as living on a beautiful beach somewhere, we just value different things. Appalachian Ohio is something special that everyone seems to talk negatively about. We love it here, the amount of support that we get from the people in this area is unmatched. The whole community and what seems to sometimes feel like the entire city of Nelsonville comes out to watch us play on Friday nights. All of the other players and I appreciate that more than anything. I think that it is something rare and is also something that you don't find in many other places. “In The danger of a single story”, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie states “a single story, show a people as one thing, as only one thing, over and over again, and that is what they become.” This is something that we see a lot of about Appalachian Ohio. People think that we are nothing, that we have no hope and happiness. However, growing up here there is no lack of positivity. In a small town like Nelsonville it is just how we spend our time, and it is what we love to do. This city is filled with positivity and support for teams and so many other things.

Us people of Nelsonville are truly saddened by the choice of words and images in Tim Sullivan's article about Nelsonville and the surrounding areas of Appalachian Ohio. It does not give a bright representation of our hometown. For me Nelsonville is everything, the city brings me happiness and hope. Being a football player, the city supports the team and I, and every one of us can tell you that is amazing. There is so much more to it and so many more good things rather than the bad things that were said about it in the article. Appalachian Ohio is home to us, and we love it here.

Observing Nature

Aislynn Bostic of River Valley High School

I walk on a trail through the woods with my mother. As we explore, birds sing cheerfully above us. Branches wave smoothly in the wind. In a small pasture beside us, the bright, yellow-green grass grows blissfully, fallen over as if it were carefully laid down by a well-meant hand, possibly to warm the myriad of different colored flowers and the bees that come with them like a blanket. Although it is the beginning of summertime, the covering of leaves protect us from the sun’s harsh rays, enough that a slight chill catches the breeze.

There, in the back of my grandpa’s property, my mother slowly kneels down: ”Shh. Be quiet. Look.” and pointed to a spot in the pasture just a small distance from us. It was a small herd of does, one with a young fawn, born late in the season. I was probably only four or five at the time, and would have a few other encounters similar to this one later on in life, but this would be the first incident where I truly began to appreciate and ponder on the beauty and inner workings of nature, as I began to study the ecosystem of Appalachia.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, an African writer, talked about her experience of growing up reading almost solely British and American literature, saying “They opened up new worlds for me. But the unintended consequence was that I did not know that people like me could exist in literature. So what the discovery of African writers did for me was this: It saved me from having a single story of what books are.” Similarly, I feel like most people don’t fully understand the complexities of the environments around them. When most people try to describe the forest, they typically only focus on describing the trees and mammals, which they probably learned more about, but there are so many other types of flora and fauna that make that particular ecosystem run smoothly. Even the smallest things, such as decomposers or bacteria, are important to their environments. The oddest part of it all, and what most people never learn about, is that even though these areas work via sets of deeply interconnected parts, there is no set form by which these places run, rather, loose guidelines to how each individual part interacts with other parts, which eventually creates a malleable system where each individual part, each individual plant or animal, has multiple different ways in which they can interact with others or with the environment as a whole.

I remember later on in life, while having a vacation in a cabin in Tennessee, studying how the ecosystem there was different from my hometown, even though they are both considered the same region, Appalachia. Forests in that area and forests in my hometown are classified as the same, so one would think that they would be identical to each other.

Except they aren’t.

Aside from the fact that some of the animals there have become accustomed to rummaging through the vacationers’ trash, there are many small variations in the behaviors of the animals there. Some of them have different preferred foods, or ways of getting those foods, and some species interact differently with other species than they would in my hometown.

While it may be confusing for some, I think it’s important to understand that these slight variations happen in our own societies and across Appalachia. From state to state, or even as small a difference as from town to town, there are little variations in how we live and interact with our environments. In the wild, the more we study a behavior, the more reasons we observe for that behavior being seen, and eventually we seem to get good at predicting what a species will do in its current situation. In most of these situations, our predictions of what certain things an animal or plant will do are usually strikingly accurate. However, it is important to consider different reasonings for this than something as simple as ‘That’s just what those plants and animals do.’

Is it because those species are so unassuming or uncomplex that all of the individuals of them can be generalized into one rigid form of behavior? Is it because a logical, straightforward approach to issues is the most important approach to survival in their wild environment?

Or is it something completely different?

In a similar way, it’s important to not generalize people, especially large groups of people such as regions, cultures, races, and so many others into divisive categories, because even though we may study our societies thoroughly, both individually and collectively, there are still so many variables that affect how each individual person in that ‘group’ may react to a situation that it is almost impossible to predict a person’s actions based on the categories that we generalize people into.

my appalachia

Georgia Godenschwager of Nelsonville-York Highschool

Growing up in Appalachian Ohio has taught me a few things: Always be thankful for what you have, family and friends are everything, and then some, lastly, things could always be worse. Growing up, I did not realize how good I had it. I would scoff at my elders when they would tell me that things could be worse, and go on about doing what I found important. It was not until I was older that I realized how good things are for me, and how effortless it is to take things for granted.

Throughout the article, Tim Sullivan talks about how cut off we are to the rest of the world. An example of this in the text is when he describes how we view pressing issues that are happening throughout America: “An increasingly foreign America that they explain with suspicion, anger and occasionally conspiracy theories.” He says, describing us as if we were children who wouldn’t understand the adult conversation. “By belittling the people of Appalachia he sets an idea of us in peoples heads that is not true. If an outsider were to read this article they would assume we were uneducated in nationwide affairs, which is proven wrong in many ways.” I have witnessed police discrimination in my small corner of Appalachia. I personally have attended protests against racial discrimination. We are not untouched by the things that are largely represented in bigger areas, but we are fortunate to have things happen less. That stands true with the rising issues of COVID-19. In Appalachia, we are lucky that our numbers have stayed low, however, it is still just as scary. Some people I have known since kindergarten have been affected by the virus in ways I hope to never understand. Seeing the difference in how things used to be is scary to me, so when Sullivan labels us with the manner that he does, I am offended: “Events that have defined 2020 nationwide — are mostly just images on TV from a distant America.” The way Sullivan describes that the rest of America as distant is peculiar to me. How could a nation so largely focused on being a united force, be distant from one another? Thinking about how easy it is to label an area based off of what we read/see in the news is scary. It is so easy to assume things about another area or group of people based on what we are told.

It is very easy to focus on what is bad and ignore all of the good. The people in my small town of Nelsonville are unlike any people I have ever met. Everyone here is so kind and inviting, like a warm, familiar hug. Growing up with that as my example of who I’m supposed to be as a person has affected me in many ways. The first time I noticed this was at summer camp. My stepmom made me brownies to take and share with my roommate. When I offered the brownies to her,with a weary smile on my face, she was completely shocked. I remember her telling me how no one has ever been that nice to her. To that I said, “what’s mine is yours”, feeling comforted by the fact she got to see how kind people can be. We then went on to talk about just how delicious brownies with walnuts and caramel are, as we sank our teeth into another. I found her response surprising because I was raised to treat everyone with kindness. Responses like hers have made me want to go out and meet new people, to maybe show them how kind people can be. If I were to grow up anywhere else I would be a completely different person, I’m so thankful to have grown up where I have. I’m proud to call Appalachia my home. To the outside world looking in we might not seem like much, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Reflections of a runner

Cody Wooten of River Valley High School

As a lifetime resident of Southeast Ohio, Appalachia and its culture has greatly affected me. My interests, hobbies, and beliefs have all been shaped by my home town and the people I know. I enjoy a variety of activities, music, and traditions from the area. I like to run and hike, to play video games and go out with my friends. My hobbies are varied widely and I often pick up a new interest every couple weeks that I will follow until the next inspiration hits. One hobby that I have had a consistent involvement in is running. I love the feeling of speed and freedom that comes from running, especially getting to run scenic trails and paths. My favorite part of running is getting to experience the seasons and weather as I run. As summer fades to fall, which fades to winter, which fades to spring, I feel connected to the Earth. And each time I go outside I think, “This has to be one of the most beautiful places on Earth.” To me, running has the perfect balance of peacefulness and excitement.

Throughout middle and high school, cross-country running and track have been my favorite sports. But I have discovered that running is about more than just being fast. Through running with my team, I learned the importance of grit and determination. In running, there are three things that affect how to race: natural ability, how much you practice, and how much you are willing to hurt. In 5 years of running, I have found the last to be the most important. My mantra has always been, ”If you aren’t willing to hurt and work hard, you will never succeed.” However, this applies to more than just sports; it applies to all aspects of life. Cross-country and track have also taught me the importance of working and progressing as a team. In the world after high school, these ideals will carry over into my workplace and the relationships I establish. Hard work, dedication, and the ability to work with people are the fundamentals of success in modern life. Without the grit and resolve that can only come from experience, you are at the mercy of chance and the world around you. Growing up in Appalachian Ohio has given me the opportunity to develop and strive to reach my potential.

One of my most vivid experiences in testament to the value of determination happened this year, at our cross-country League meet. It was early morning, in the middle of October. The air was cool as my team and I walked to the starting line, ready to face every team in the Conference. Often, before a race I would feel nervous, but today I felt ready. I knew I had trained for this, I knew my team would be right behind me, and I knew I wanted an All-League title.

In the moment of silence before the starting gun, I steeled myself for a hard race. Then the gun fired and the race began. Through the first mile, I held with one of the lead packs. One by one, runners began to drop off, falling behind. As I passed each person, my determination grew. By the last mile, I was exhausted, but refused to slow down. My body screamed, “Slow down! You’ve done enough! One more place isn’t worth this!” But I yelled back just as loud, “No, I want one more!”

In the last stretch, surrounded by cheering friends, family, and strangers, I pushed myself past two more runners, earning 4^th place in my League and helping my team place 3^rd. This experience showed to me the importance of working hard for what you want and working together to better yourselves.

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