My Beloved Appalachia,
Nine years ago, I arrived in these mountains without knowing you or what to expect. You took me in, and helped me heal; and I felt the strength of these mountains around me. Because I had no words left, I listened, long and well. You told me your story, and we cried together.
But you are Appalchia, and that means when there is nothing left, there is hope and there is fight. Those two words are as intrinsic to this place as music, and hunger, and hardship and courage. You believed in me, and that belief gave me hope that I could find the fight and the courage to stand up for you and repay your kindness.
No fight for what is right and just can be fought alone. You presented me with opportunity after opportunity to travel among your Hills and Hollers and get to know the hearts of those who live and love here. I cannot find the words to describe with any accuracy, the abundance that I found. People. The richness of Appalachia is the people. I have been to every County and almost every Town. The challenges are the same across our region, but the people are unique to place.
The Coalfields taught me that human instinct and human Spirit are not the same. The instinct to profit on the backs, and lungs, and lives of working people is not equal to the Spirit that cannot be quashed by that instinct. The nobleness of spirit will outlast the instinct, even if it cannot overcome it.
Southside, you know all too well the fickelness of the Marketplace and those who profit there. And yet my beloved Martinsville and Basset and Collinsville are rising from the insult of that inconstant lover and finding new ways to sustain its people.
The New River Valley, with its raw beauty and intellect, could not overcome the powerful interests that left a long scar across its belly, for the sake of what? Profit that will go where it always goes...somewhere else.
Resilience is what Appalachia has, and what it offers to those who seek refuge here. Every person in this Country should know and understand the economic and cultural history of this Region. It is a microcosm of the politics and power of greed. The history of Labor, and the internal scars of working underground are written in these Hills. The exploitation of working people by corporations who remain faceless, or simply change their names to protect the culpable, is the currency so easily issued at the Company Store.
I will remain forever changed, and forever mindful, of what Appalchia has taught me. I will incorporate it into every next step in my journey forward. Appalchia is "in me" and will not be extinguished. I will be forever grateful and forever resilient.
Susan