Inside Out

Sitting in a room of compassionate people discussing good deeds, I found myself getting very irritated as they discussed Appalachia. I'm not about to argue about the persistent poverty that plagues the area, but I found the prism through which they saw the people offensive. Growing up in Appalachia, I saw the strengths of the mountain ideals. I was enmeshed in my community and it's strong familial support.
Some of that familial feeling was due to the inter-relatedness of the community members. I can remember discovering that I was related by blood or marriage to everyone in my girl's Sunday school class. We had to go back a generation or five to find the connection, but that was OK we knew our family history well enough to do so. I grew up surrounded by mountains that felt like ancient friends holding up the sky, but the mountains weren't the only rings of support around me in my valley. There was my immediate, biological family of which several branches lived nearby. There was my church family that provided spiritual sustenance and shelter. Then there was the city as a whole. We all fought to keep and create jobs. We did so because we loved being together, and we loved the mountains. We knew that home was where you hung your heart, and that you don't hang your heart as easily as you hang your hat.
I wish my children were growing up with that same sense of community and support, even though it would probably mean growing up a good bit poorer. There are some kinds of wealth that can only be measured by the heart.