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Why Appalachia Didn’t Change My Life

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Notre Dame chapter.

I wish I could sit here and tell you all about how my life was forever changed by Appalachia – how one shower the entire week, seeing poverty, chopping wood, and doing construction work altered my life in unimaginable ways.

I could, but then I would be lying.

Does this sound a little different from the Appalachia stories you’ve heard before, and the selling point of the seminar being that it will “change your life”?

Good.

Appalachia didn’t change my life.

Appalachia changed my perspective.

It couldn’t have changed my life because in order to change my life I have to actively do that myself. It doesn’t just happen. Things happening to you don’t change your life; allowing those things that happened to change your life involves conscious decision making.

I am your typical college freshman. Still getting adjusted to the craziness that is everything college-related – be it tougher courses or finding my place here at Notre Dame. Lack of sleep the week before I left for my Appalachia immersion made me question, in a sleep-deprived stupor, whether it really was a good idea to go on this trip, when I desperately needed a mental and physical break.

But alas, there I was, at 7 AM on Sunday, throwing my bags into a van that was departing for Glenmary Farm in Lewis County, KY, for my weeklong immersion. I was determined to go, because I had spent the past five Tuesday nights learning about the region and about how to act and about how to approach my service.

After spending the majority of the past 11 years in the South Bend/Mishawaka region, the sight of huge rolling hills and gorgeous forests will never get old. The sky seemed bigger, the air fresher, and everything was clearer in Lewis County.

The juxtaposition was startling. Against such a magnificent natural backdrop sat houses that could only loosely be described as houses. They weren’t all like that, however; while there is great poverty and need in Lewis County, there is also comfort and wealth. I didn’t see a single Wal-Mart or mall near the city I was staying and working in, but I realized that maybe with the lack of mass consumerism came the excess of stars in the sky (it was the first time I had seen the Milky Way in person, and I was thrilled).

The people of Lewis County are a beautiful kind of people. Growing up, I had always dreamed of working and living in a big city, like NYC, where it seemed like something was always happening. After a summer trip to Montana, I realized that that wasn’t the type of place I wanted to be, because city people have always been (perhaps unfairly) stereotyped as selfish and self-involved. This may be because it takes so much more effort to stand out as an individual in a city like NYC.

The people of Lewis County were like those I had met out West, but I got a greater opportunity to interact with the Lewis community during my stay at Glenmary. Before going into those I met while out in the community, I have to mention our two farm managers, Mark and Sarah. Both recently out of college, they had dedicated their lives to service and were passionate, kind, and patient individuals who worked together flawlessly and became like older siblings to us Notre Dame volunteers.

The people of Lewis County – where do I begin? Do I begin with Mary June, a fascinating elderly woman who taught us that true love at first sight really does exist and that we should allow our light to shine and that it’s possible to survive both black diphtheria and a heart attack and then live to be 89? Do I begin with Bo, a funny and kind construction manager/worker who worked side by side with us at a People’s Self-Help Housing site and whose unconditional love for his mentally handicapped son touched us all, and who told us that being able to go to college was a blessing? Do I begin with George, the 70 year old retiree running the Lewis County food pantry, who wouldn’t give up the pantry for the world because then who would take over it, when it was so desperately needed? Do I begin with the 12 other Notre Dame students that were with me on the immersion, who showed me there are such beautiful people right here on this campus, and that it’s okay to open up and be yourself?

There really is no good place to begin. There would never be enough words in the English language to describe all that I felt or all that I saw.

I didn’t come home feeling as if my life had been changed. I did come home knowing that I had been given a new perspective, and that may actually be more important, because that affects how I look at my life and all that happens to me.

Did I realize how unbelievably lucky I am, to be attending a prestigious university and to never have to worry about clothing, or warmth, or food? Yes. I also realized how unbelievably privileged I am, as well. I had always taken college as a given. It was the ultimate goal for me and most of my friends since we were little kids. I always knew that I would be going to a college of some kind. There are many that don’t regard this as a given. I had always thought of it as a given, so I would complain about the food or the work and not be concerned.

I am lucky to be here, and to be where I am at in life. Sure, it’s not always easy, but it’s not supposed to be easy. And I’m not going to tell you that someone else could always have it worse, because that doesn’t solve your problems, it only belittles them and that would never be my aim. But open your eyes. There is life outside the Notre Dame “bubble.” There is great suffering and pain but at the same time great joy and great hope for a better future. The people of Lewis County taught me to be hopeful, that being happy with little actually brings the greatest joy, that family is everything, that things will come and go but faith is forever.

Don’t go out searching for that “life-changing experience” if you yourself decide to embark on an Appalachia seminar. Instead, I dare you to allow yourself to open your mind to accepting a new perspective on life, which can be much more difficult but much more important in the end.

Appalachia changed my perspective, and I am aching to go back once again.

http://socialconcerns.nd.edu/academic/spring/appalachia.shtml

 

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Susan is a freshman at the University of Notre Dame studying mechanical engineering. You can usually find her eating ice cream despite her lactose intolerance and occasionally catch her acting as though her pH is greater than 7. She is excited for her midlife crisis because that is when she will be able to join the FBI, her lifelong dream. You can find her floating around in the Twitter realm and see her attempting to be artsy on Instagram, both at @agentsuezhu.