This isn't the first time.
Rediscovering Appalachia in the Age of Climate Crisis
Appalachia is in the news again, and I’m furious.
But with whom or what exactly? The politicians on both sides using our pain for their gain, again? National news outlets exploiting our destitution for their own gain, again? Well-meaning outsiders, transplants, and tourists who all feel responsible to help pull us back from the brink of extinction, again? The energy, healthcare, and *insert mega-corporation name here* industries sure to swoop in and try and take over, again?
For me, it’s a toss-up.
I’ve studied Appalachia (i.e. our history, culture, and people) for five years now. In the Fall of 2019, it was something for me to wrap my obsessive, academic brain around—a bringing together of my past, present, and future selves. It was a prodigal return of sorts, as an Appalachian-born person, and renewed my hope, love, and passion for a region I thought lost to me forever.
Now, everything I’ve ever read or written about Appalachia seems to be coming true once again. Appalachian suffering is once again on the minds of Americans nationwide. They’ve seen the photos. They’ve heard the stories. Appalachians know what this means all too well: pity eyes in the thousands for a few weeks, followed by a community-wide, years-long grief.
I’m tired of it. I’m tired of seeing our pain become the national news fixation for a few weeks, only to be slowly forgotten in the months and years after the inciting incident. I’m tired of seeing politicians fight over whether to give aid and funds to our region. I’m tired of outsiders telling us how we should rescue and take care of our own people. I’m tired of seeing Appalachia in AI-generated images, often shared widely and without a care across social media platforms to prove some sort of empty point.
I’m so, so tired, but this isn’t the first time.
In the mid-1960s, the United States “rediscovered” Appalachia in the beginnings of President Johnson’s War on Poverty. I wrote about this “rediscovery” for my Senior Thesis as a history student at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. While this era wasn’t the first time the US government, national news media, and other corporate stakeholders exploited Appalachia, the War on Poverty years placed a distinct spotlight on the Appalachian region and its largely impoverished population.
Appalachia was used as a tactic to get middle-class, white suburbia to buy into Johnson’s “Great Society” and “War on Poverty” policies, thereby “personalizing” poverty beyond the urban centers of Detroit, Chicago, and New York.1 It was a literal white-washing of poverty—a racist disservice done in the name of a region long-associated with “pure” whiteness. Appalachia’s role in this endeavor cannot be forgotten or understated, nor can the resulting consequences of such a sharp focus on the region.
In other words, we are familiar with what it means to be looked at—scrutinized and pitied.
It hurts so much, I think, because I’d rather everyone see our joy. I’d like to see Appalachian resilience, passion, and success shared broadly and widely. I’d like for those adjectives to be in news headlines, instead of “ravaged,” “destroyed,” and “displaced.” I’d like to see our region appreciated for what it brings to the table, beyond its ability to rake in tourist dollars, ethically extract its wealth of natural resources, and serve as a “climate haven” for those who can afford it.
Now, I know what you all want to say: “What about those of us who really want to help?” “Isn’t national media exposure on this level a good thing for Appalachia as it rebuilds after Helene?”
Frankly, I’m not sure.
Still, I hope so. I hope we, as a country, have moved beyond needing to see images of dead and starving kids, old folks in desperate need of insulin, and stranded dogs in order to care about helping other people. I hope there are enough well-meaning, kind-hearted outsiders out there who recognize the real toll this storm took on Appalachian landscapes, communities, and souls. I hope you all donate, share, and help out where and when you can.
Some much of what I’ve seen from my friends, family, and community this past week has instilled that hope. Watching the large network of mutual aid across the region pay it forward after this storm is the closest I’ve ever come to believing in a power higher than myself—something greater. That’s the magic of these mountains. We’re still here. In spite of poverty, exploitation, and corporate greed, we’re still here. In spite of addiction, Big Pharma, and polarized politics, we’re still here.
In spite of all our traumas, we’re still here. That is our enduring spirit at work, and I’m grateful to see it’s still flickering.
“Sure it’s bad down here, and everywhere else from what you hear, but these mountains have been here a long time, and so have we.”2
Further Questions:
How much more can we take? If Appalachia and its inland space is now at risk of major devastation by a hurricane, then when does the climate denial end? With another Category 4 or 5 Tropical Storm on the horizon, when will be the right time to challenge those who still, against all evidence to the contrary, claim that climate crisis isn’t real?
How can they tell us not to trust the very institutions and first responders trying to manage the chaos on the ground? Why are Appalachians being exploited, manipulated, and misinformed, again, while everyone else moves on and/or lines their pockets?
Will being center stage again harm or help us?
Donation Resources:
Local Mutual Aid & Cultural Organizations to Follow & Support:
Some News:
“Helene trapped Asheville broadcasters in their station. They've stayed on air ever since.”
"Did Hurricane Helene Really Destroy One-Third of the Appalachian Trail?”
“Hundreds of Storm-Ravaged Roads, and No Timeline for Fixing Them”
“From rescue to recovery: The grim task in flood-ravaged western North Carolina”
Michael L. Gillette, Launching the War on Poverty: An Oral History, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), xi.
Robert Coles, Children of Crisis Vol. II: Migrants, Sharecroppers, Mountaineers, (Boston: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1967), 573.
I was just on a Zoom call, this past week, in which we were watching a video about a quarry that helped lay a road for a hospital. All the people in the video were Appalachian. Literally my department head started laughing uncontrollably. Because of how the woman pronounced "quarry."
I'm from Appalachia. It's a region ridiculed, misunderstood or pitied by nearly everyone else and always has been. One thing I love about my home area so much is that everyone's aware of that, but no one really cares. They continue either way.