Archive | January, 2015

The Fiddle Dances

21 Jan

First let me be clear about something: The Christian Appalachian Project (CAP) is an amazing organization that has done more good in Eastern Kentucky, and throughout Appalachia in general, than any other organization with which I’m familiar. Furthermore, I am proud (and thankful) to say they are headquartered in Johnson County, Kentucky, my favorite place on the planet. CAP is the 12th largest human charity service in America and provided services for 36,000 Eastern Kentuckians, and reached over one million people in all 13 Appalachian states in 2014. That didn’t happen by accident or dumb luck. It was the result of more than half a century of hard work and ceaseless dedication to bettering the lives of the undeserved populations of Appalachia. I am humbled and honored to have an organization of that caliber working in and around the hills that raised me.

Mountains in my heart

That being said, their newest ad featuring Martin Sheen, –who I firmly believe is the BEST fictional president that this great nation has ever had– is truly appalling.

I’m not saying there isn’t truth to the recently released CAP ad, there is. Eastern Kentucky is different place. We don’t care for change and it takes us a while to warm to new people and new ideas. It is a hard place to eek out a living, and it isn’t getting any easier as jobs run from the hills faster than mountain water runs over limestone. But it is heart-breakingly beautiful, brilliant in its simplicity, and full of people who don’t take themselves too seriously and are loyal to a fault. So CAP please don’t act like poor, unemployed, under-educated, struggling people are all we are, or that the situation is somehow unique to Appalachia. That is a story that resonates across America. The Appalachian refrain just makes for better copy because we have been turned into a comic troupe of toothless hillbillies without running water who can’t do any better so we need a handout from people with the good fortune to have been born somewhere more socially acceptable, like Atlanta, Chicago, or Beverly Hills.

As a child I always wanted to go on church mission trips to developing countries, and while my parents ardently supported travel (I’ve got the passport to prove it) my Dad’s eternal refrain on the subject was:

“If you want to help someone, start in your own backyard. Go up to West Van Lear and volunteer. There are plenty of people there that need your help.”

So I did that. I volunteered with my church youth group and my school right in my backyard like he suggested. It certainly didn’t feel like it at the time, but years later people I worked with and served with told me that my consistent presence made a difference in their lives.  Now that I am older, I see the true value in the idea of improving your own backyard, as well as the danger of dropping into a culture that isn’t your own and trying to change it, even with the best intentions.

To make true change, people have to trust your intentions. Especially in Appalachia. We know if you aren’t invested. We’ve seen lots of companies come in, rape our hills and leave us with little more than the idea that “Coal-mining used to pay real well.” CAP is invested in the communities where they work, but you would never know it from this ad. This ad only tells you children are hungry, but it doesn’t tell you what programs your donation would support or the value of a dollar in the hands of CAP versus the value of a dollar donated to another group.

CAP, you are so clearly invested in Appalachia. You started out helping people in your own backyard in 1964 and that grand tradition has continued. As such an invested community member, because that is what you are, a community member, maybe your next ad will showcase the great things you’ve already accomplished and the projects you continue to support, rather than playing into a stereotype that does nothing but harm the people you already work so hard to help.

Clearly, CAP, you don’t see this ad as harmful. If you did, I feel certain you never would have created it. The one thing Appalachia needs more than anything else is a boost to the economy, an ad like this further hinder any outside investment in developing the local economy in a sustainable fashion. What business will invest in these communities when all they learn about from this 80 second glimpse into the mountains is that we are poor and uneducated? I have a gamblers heart, but my MBA head wouldn’t let me make that bet if this was all I saw about Appalachia.

And Mr. Sheen, if you really want to use your celebratory to help the people of Appalachia, give them a hand-up, not a hand-out. Lobby for a factory to be built in these mountains. Maybe Mitch McConnell will listen to you, he sure doesn’t listen to me. Take a vacation to Red River Gorge or rent a houseboat on Lake Cumberland and see the only moonbow in this hemisphere, and then Tweet and Instagram the heck out of it. Tell your friends to leave the LA sound stages and start filming in Appalachia, we are all getting tired of FX pretending that Pasadena passes for Harlan. It isn’t nearly green enough. Or come for a festival and be amazed at the exquisite hand-made quilts and hear the best bluegrass music of your life. I’m willing to bet you can’t help but dance to the fiddle.

I know that is a hard sell because we are an area of the country known for coal miners and moonshiners, boasting a skill set many times not viewed as commercially applicable at first glance. But we have excellent train lines, winding rivers, and a surplus of 18-wheelers that don’t haul too much stuff now that coal production is down that will get goods in and out with ease. We have amazing natural resources, and beautiful vistas, but what is more, we have an under-utilized, smart, hard-working population that prefers to work for something than have it handed to them.

Finally, I’m not saying don’t donate to CAP. Quite the opposite. Please donate to them. They do excellent work. But for those of you who only see a snippet of this beautiful place I call home, please don’t view this ad as a complete picture of Appalachia or our people. We are more than poor and under-educated, just as you are more than a ditzy surfer from LA-LA land or an unsmiling, hurried jerk from the northeast.

The Best Version

9 Jan

unpluggedA few weeks ago I had dinner with my girl friends and somehow we got onto the subject of whether or not social media and the incessant noise of “Shelia liked your picture, Ben commented on your photo, Nina is feeling ‘excited’ –starry eyed emoticon– about her date” etc… ad nauseam made the four of us, personally, less happy. There is plenty of research that says in general the ol’ FB is making people less happy, but I was curious if my friends felt like it actually did just that.

They all three said “Yes.”

I was shocked. For me personally, I don’t find that social media makes me less happy, so when my beautiful, smart, accomplished friends said they agreed I wanted to know why.

One friend commented that “Facebook is where everyone presents the very best version of themselves. It can’t possibly be real, and I know that, but it makes me feel like my life can’t compare.”

It was this idea of presenting the “best version” of one’s self that got me thinking, because…

Don’t we always put the best version of ourselves out to the world?

Or at least attempt to?

Most people aren’t going to show up at a job interview wearing dirty clothes. You aren’t going to meet your boyfriends parents wearing the same outfit you would to a Vegas club, (unless his parents own a night club… in which case, I’ve got some great platforms you can borrow). Most of us aren’t going to give our boss the middle finger when he says he needs us work on a project over the weekend. And, *hopefully*, you aren’t going to pick your nose in public and wipe the boogie under a table.

Of course everyone has moments of frustration when their best self is no where to be found and the exasperated, impatient, less than polite alter ego is the one driving the train to crazy town. If you’re anything like me, this is the point where my alter ego is  flying through my veins, like a train with failing brakes coming down a mountain, using my steam whistle-esque mouth to yell at the poor guy who had the unfortunate privilege of answering my call to the airlines customer service counter.

This isn’t my best self. It isn’t someone I am proud of. It certainly isn’t the me that I’m going to put on Facebook or Instagram and proudly proclaim, “Yep! That’s me reducing a call center worker to tears!” #feelingaccomplished 🙂

The reality, at least for me, is that had my Dad, my Grandmother, my friends, Ms. Crumb (my childhood Sunday School Teacher who my Mom was forever saying “Would you do that in front of Ms. Crumb?” if I was doing something naughty) or even another human within earshot who could recount this less than glowing review of my behavior, I would have been calmer.  I would have been more polite. I would probably not have quite the subtraction from my universal Karma account… But because I was alone and the no one near me spoken English I acted ugly.

No one sets out to be this ugly person. It just happens sometimes, regardless of how diligently one tries to put their best foot forward.

And social media is just an extension of that. We are all trying to put our best foot forward. No one wants the wobbly bits, the relationship failures, the second guessings of decisions, the work concerns, the frustrations that we all face in daily life to be showcased. Most of us certainly aren’t going to showcase them ourselves.

So instead we compare ourselves to what we see on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. We see one snippet of a life and because that sliver is pink we assume that everything is rosey. And if by chance we don’t have a similar snippet of pink; the great job, the cute kids doing funny things, the exciting social life, an exotic vacation, or whatever, we assume we are doing something wrong.

Why does a missing piece feel like a failure for some people?

Is this what happens to people who grew up in the age of everyone gets a trophy and no one loses at T-Ball because everyone wins? Do we think that if our lives don’t match our Facebook friends’ lives then somehow we are less than?

I’m not a psychologist. I’m not a sociologist. Or a counselor, a therapist or someone who does research in any of these areas. Quite frankly, I’m not qualified in any scholastic way to comment about how the use of social media impacts our life and our perceptions.

But what I am is a person who uses social media.

A LOT.

I have 2 Facebook accounts, supporting 4 Facebook pages and countless groups. I have two Instagram profiles and three Twitter handles. Name an online dating site and I’ve probably tried it. And I keep two blogs.

I am excessively engaged in social media regardless of how much I want to pretend I am “unplugged”. Hey, after all, my Facebook headline is a picture of my feet and a sign that says ‘Unplug’, and if the ol’ FB says it, it must be true, right?

My point, is merely that it’s not Facebook that makes people less happy, it is  the incessant comparing of our lives to the lives of our peers.

Comparing ourselves to other people is nothing new. We’ve been doing it since the first caveman added that addition with the walk-in saber-tooth tiger freeezer, and I don’t see it ceasing anytime prior to the Earth exploding.

Facebook didn’t create comparisons. But it did make it easier.

The first time I remember comparing myself to someone else I was 5 years old.

FIVE!

I wore glasses, Whitney did not. I was obviously doing better than Whitney because I had a cool fashion accessory while she did not.

I did not understand “cool”.

Imagine my dismay when I learned that glasses weren’t cool, being blind was not a desirable trait, and no one envied my Mickey Mouse specs.

OH THE SHAME!

Not really. I still loved my glasses and cried when I didn’t need to wear them anymore. Clearly, I still wasn’t getting “cool”.

But what I did “get” from that experience was that I’m wasn’t always going to be doing what my friends were doing when they were doing it. And as I got older I realized that putting myself on their timeline was crazy. Because what made sense for other people and their lives didn’t make sense for me and my life.

And I had to live with my life. Not theirs.

My point is, life is beautiful. And amazing. Even when its cruel and hard. And keep sharing the funny pictures and lovely moments that make you happy because so much of what fills up a feed is difficult and hard.

And just remember, while you are silently stalking someone’s Facebook thinking “WOW! They are having a blast!” someone is thinking the same thing about you.

No one is killing it in every area.

I promise.

They are just putting their best face forward.