A Visit To My Appalachian Roots

This past weekend my husband and I joined our son and daughter-in-law in Ashville, NC for an Easter visit.  Our daughter-in-law is on staff at Warren Wilson College, a unique Appalachian based college that combines preserving traditional animal and food production skills along with earning a four year degree. Being in the Spring season anywhere is exciting, but this place took Spring to a whole new level. 

Herman and I were both raised on Appalachian farms in East Tennessee.  Generally these farms are mountainous, under a hundred acres, hilly, and isolated among the hills and hollers.  Spring is always the most exciting time of the year because new calves, colts, piglets, sheep, chicks, ducks and geese are being born daily. Everything is so alive! While we lived year round on our farms, spring stands out as unique because it follows, in my opinion, the ugliest season of winter.  Spring  brings lots of rain, cool temperatures, a fresh smell to the air. The sunshine  is so powerful that it strikes the new green leaves in a way that overpowers one's senses. This past weekend on Warren Wilson's farm was no exception.

We saw sheep that were both sheared and waiting to be sheared. There were a gazillion piglets and chirping baby chicks. Horses were waiting to be harnessed to plows fields along with tractors that had recently overturned the wet, dark black earth for planting. And there was the smell of manure that waited to be hauled out to fertilize this year's crops.  Bees buzzed, ants crawled and wasps were busy building this year's nests.  It was such a sensory overload for us. 

Most East Tennesseans and North Carolinians are of English, Scotch or Irish descent.  Their farms and methods of farming still greatly resemble the farming skills of these British Isles.  Appalachian cooking and food preparation skills still resemble the British methods.  My first understanding of this resemblance came when I visited the British Isles for the first time and saw foods and tastes identical to my Mom's. It was this connection that tied so much history together for me in a way that no classroom could have produced.

Standing in the barns and sheds on Warren Wilson College farms I suddenly knew where I was from in a fresh way. I could feel my long deceased Mom and Dad, both sets of grandparents, and a long line of other descendants who came to this new world and found a place much like 'home' in the old country. I never suspected as a child that I, too, would embrace this heritage as all the others before me had embraced it. This weekend the connection became quite real.

Aunt Emma's and Aunt Fay's Books

The other day my husband and I got in a conversation about the importance of books in children's lives. Part of this reflection led to Dolly Parton's Imagination Library which donates a book monthly to all children who sign up until they enter first grade. While I don't know what motivated her to choose this particular charity, I can't help but believe that it is related to her experiences as a child of Appalachia (Sevierville, TN). She came from a large poor family that struggled to survive during her growing up years. I think she graduated from high school, but by that time she had already started her singing career. To me she is a heroine because I, too, knew a similar world of mountains, ignorance, struggle and, to some degree, a disrespect for education. What I see in her charity is the idea that exposure to different worlds through books can drastically impact how you see and interact with the real world. It certainly did for me.

While I had 18 aunts and uncles several of which I interacted with daily and a family that had more education than Dolly's, I know the impact of social ignorance and poor education. The major influence to my isolation and ignorance was through books also; books that were given me by Aunt Emma and Aunt Fay. Aunt Emma lived about 85 miles from me and was a kindergarten teacher until her own children arrived. Aunt Fay had no children and lived 7 miles from me. Both were frequent visitors to our house. Both seemed to take a special interest in me and my life. They filled in the spaces of parenting that Mama and Daddy could not; the spaces of ignorance about a larger world and its people. Aunt Fay shopped for me, tried new recipes with me, and simply took the time to talk to me. Aunt Emma also talked to me, but she asked more questions and both of them really listened to the answers I gave. I remember them laughing long lengths of time to something I said or one of my answers. One of Aunt Emma's best gifts to me was 10 books that she was given when her school purchased new books. I got some of the old ones and was encouraged to read them. These books were very age appropriate and easily captured my third grade interests. We talked about them after I read them. This made me want to read more books.

I should tell you that I was not a book worm in spite of Aunt Emma's and Aunt Fay's encouragement because Mama who read very little had other things she had to teach me about farming, cooking and canning. I rarely went searching for a new book to read, but when one was given to me I felt obligated to read it because Mama said it was a gift and gifts should "always be appreciated by using them no matter what they was." In high school I worked during study hall with Aunt Fay, the school librarian, as a 'library assistant'. This introduced me to more books which I mostly shelved and heard others talk about. The only book I ever remember wanting to read was "Lady Chatterley's Lover" but I knew I'd never stand a chance at getting my hands on this one because Aunt Fay protected it with her life. However, during my senior year I managed to sneak it out of the library for the summer. NOW THAT WAS A BOOK! I still don't know if she ever knew I had it, but if she did she never said a word and I haven't got up the nerve yet to ask her.

Sometimes I often wonder how on earth I became a college professor when I had so little experience with books and reading. Both my ACT and SAT scores showed me that I didn't know very much because I had not read all the things college bound kids should read. I didn't know what a classic was and didn't care to know, but somehow by the time I finished college I had learned what conversations to avoid and which brainy people I could and could not tolerate. I still managed to graduate Magna Cum Laude and knew the stuff I was interested in quite well.

Now some fifty years later I understand the role books played in taking me to new worlds. Had these two aunts not been intimately involved in my life by exposing me to books I'm sure that I would not be a reader at all or at least only a reader of sensational books like "Lady Chatterley's Lover". Oh, did I mention I am currently reading "Fifty Shades of Grey"?