From Civil War to Coal Mines: Parallels Between Syrian and Appalachian Struggles

By Bisher Alshehab

Between the peaks and valleys of Blue Ridge and the Smoky Mountains, between northern Mississippi to southern New York, lies a hidden region I could not imagine: Appalachia. As an international student from Syria, the word "Appalachia" never crossed my English dictionary. Throughout my first year at Berea College, I learned about the unique and rich culture of the United States. This essay describes my learning journey in the Appalachian region from the perspective of someone who has lived in a country torn by a civil war.

The first time I learned about Appalachia was during my writing class with my academic adviser, Bobby Starnes, when she introduced us to the fact that she was Appalachian herself in a strange and unexpected way. She said, "Appalachian people have a negative stereotype in the US. We are infamous for being hillbillies, backward, and rural." I was intrigued. I have heard before that eastern Kentucky suffers from poverty, but I have never heard about such a stereotype. Why was this the case? I wanted to find out the answer. 

While looking for labor positions for my sophomore year, the Appalachian Center caught my attention as a treasure trove of resources to learn and immerse in Appalachian culture, history, and people. It contained a multitude of books, DVDs, CDs, and even a functioning Dolly Parton pinball machine. I knew I wanted to work there since I could learn about this culture as part of my everyday job. After a pleasant and intellectual conversation with Dr. Green, the director of the Appalachian Center, I secured a labor position for the winter break.

On the first day at the job, I was introduced to my duties, which ranged from shipping boxes, recording missing books, and introducing people to the center. One part of the job was also doing intellectual labor, which included reading and learning about Appalachian culture and heritage. Dr. Green would speak to me about the history of this region from the early colonies, coal mining, and unionization, the environmental impact of Mountaintop removal, and socioeconomic and healthcare problems that have devastated the region. It came to my understanding that Appalachia is a world apart from the glamorous cities like New York the US is often portrayed for.

After finishing work in January, Dr. Green invited me to attend the 47th Annual Appalachian Studies Association (ASA) Conference next March. Without hesitation, I accepted. On our way to Sylva, North Carolina, I saw what appeared to be smoke coming out of the mountains. I panicked, thinking that the whole forest would go up in flames. But Dr. Green assured me that this is a natural phenomenon that happens in the Smoky Mountains, where fog hangs over and looks like smoke from a distance.

At the conference, I explored a wide range of topics, from the role of tourism in the region's economy to the cultural significance of fashion as an expression of values. Discussions also included the complexities of white privilege, Black Appalachian health equity, and the challenges faced by those leaving impoverished areas. The conference highlighted the metaphorical symbolism in literature, tourism's impact on regional identity, and the rich cultural meanings embedded in Appalachian folk stories, such as the "dead mules" narratives. Notable sessions covered Maya Lin's symbolic architecture, the aftermath of coal mining, and the extensive reclamation needed in Virginia and Kentucky. The event provided a comprehensive view of Appalachian studies, blending cultural, economic, and environmental perspectives.

One thing that struck me at the conference was the passion, perseverance, and motivation of the people dedicated to helping and contributing to the region's development. These groups of scholars and intellectuals of Appalachians carry the seeds of hope and the banner that may one day transform the dire circumstances their communities are facing. This kind of resilience and commitment to change is something that I would like to share with the Syrian population, who rightfully found no other way to improve their circumstances other than to leave everything behind and start again in a new country.

During my writing class with Professor Jackob Dickerson, I was able to learn about the opioid epidemic that devastated the Appalachian region in the 1990s. Purdue Pharma, a major pharmaceutical company owned by the Sackler family, played a significant role in this crisis by developing and aggressively promoting OxyContin, a painkiller with a high potential for addiction and overdose. The lack of access to healthcare and the region's socioeconomic challenges exacerbated the problem. As a result, Purdue Pharma faced numerous lawsuits and was eventually fined heavily, leading to the company's filing for bankruptcy in 2019. The opioid crisis has been catastrophic, contributing to over 841,000 overdose deaths from 1990 to 2022.

Cases like these make me reconsider the US's role as a first-world country, asserting its dominance with military bases all around the world while parts of its population struggle and are barely able to get by. As a Libertarian, I am deeply skeptical of any governmental intervention. Therefore, I do not think the solution to such problems is through a new governmental welfare program - we all know how well Social Security works. Instead, I would raise awareness about Appalachians' problems, encourage individuals to establish private charities and donation-based higher institutions like Berea College, and strive to reform the judicial system to allow low-income households to sue large corporations for damages. These are some basic solutions I came up with to help mitigate Appalachian people's daily struggles.

Although I am far from fully understanding the complexities of this region, I have observed striking similarities between the Syrian and Appalachian people. Both communities have been devastated by external forces, with their vulnerabilities exploited for personal gain and stripped of much of their power to improve their lives. Yet despite these challenges, they continue to persevere, with the spirit for survival, seizing any opportunity that might lift them out of their hardships. As I go to Libertarian conferences around the states, I see myself as a delegate from Appalachia, sharing the struggles and hardships that people here had to go through while also promoting the beauty and rich culture of this region. 

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