Introduction to Accessible Appalachia

Lisa Day and Jacob Johnson

What is Appalachia? Where is it? Who lives there? What happens there? This book won’t provide thorough answers to those questions because no book can cover it all; Appalachia is not only a place but also a social construction that is ever changing, ever adapting, ever progressing. Because this book will be used in Appalachian Studies classes and supplemented with other texts, readers will benefit from a fuller, more dynamic, and informative environment that enables discussion and questions.          

        Many students considering Appalachian Studies classes may ask themselves, “Why do I need to study Appalachia anyway?” Nearly every faculty member who has taught an Appalachia-focused class has frequently heard questions like this one, and even Helen Matthews Lewis, remembered as the “grandmother of Appalachian Studies,” encountered it as often as modern professors. In sum, students decide what makes the region important to study, as the authors who contributed to this work have also done. Lewis answers the question this way:

“So if you want to study Appalachia, here is what you do. Start where you live: interview your elders, map your community, write your local history. Who lives where and why? Who owns the land, minerals, and resources? Who is rich and poor? Who has power and who is powerless? Who are the story tellers, the poets, the singers? Who is in jail, who is sick, who is angry and who is throwing the bodies in the river and who is pretending it is not happening? Who is speaking truth to power, who is feeding the hungry, who is healing the sick? Who is writing the poetry, saving the stories, saving the land, singing the songs? Find out who you are. What is your place in this place?”^[1]

The implications of these questions are not bound by the region alone. We agree with historian Ronald Eller in viewing Appalachia as a mirror to the rest of the nation.^[2] Elizabeth Catte expands on Eller’s point, positing that this kind of mirroring sometimes “reflects something troubling but recognizable back to the nation,” sometimes predicting disaster but guaranteeing “extra meaning” in cultural shifts.^[3] Although Americans have often projected national problems as regional issues divorced from individual cities and localities, Appalachia is America and America is Appalachia. The problems of one exist in the other, so that a watershed moment in the region implies a coming change in the nation also. To that end, the field of Appalachian Studies challenges perceptions of the region and also questions how Appalachia reflects evolving national values.

Similar to how Appalachia doesn't exist in isolation, unaffected by the nation around it, this textbook is not limited to one subject matter or approach. An interdisciplinary field, Appalachian Studies encompasses many academic subjects, including the arts, education, health, humanities, physical sciences, social sciences, and recreation. While this resource is first and foremost intended for classroom learning, this work–as an extension of the work of the broad Appalachian Studies field itself–is also a call to action as well as a call to question. Critical questioning in social, political, environmental, and economic contexts as well as at cultural and individual levels remains vitally necessary to foster sustainability and healthy changes in the region, its people, and its future.

Both the region and nation continue to break into uncharted history in the making, amplifying the need for these questions all the more. Since 2020 when this textbook project began, the region has dealt with an unprecedented three consecutive “hundred-year floods” while the coal industry continues a steep decline in employment. Local people now more than at any point in living memory or recent history are questioning the power structures that have led to climate changes, continued socioeconomic barriers, and political responses in the form of infrastructure breakdown. Of these floods, the devastation of a “627-year-flood” in 2022 has come to symbolize this pivotal moment. While we are still far too close to that moment to understand its full implications, the one thing that comes clear is that a change is coming–and is already happening. This uncertainty of what the future of the region will be, combined with the certainty of its coming, has only amplified the need for the questions that Appalachian Studies poses to students.

Pronunciation and Location

Residents, scholars, hikers, and even people who have never been to Appalachia have attempted to map the pronunciation of the region’s name to assert the “correct” way to say it. Central Appalachia, or “core” Appalachia,^[4] mostly pronounces it “app-uh-latch-uh.” A frequently circulated internet meme quotes Appalachian novelist Sharyn McCrumb, who says, “Appa-lay-shuh is the pronunciation of condescension, the pronunciation of the imperialists, the people who do not want to be associated with the place, and the pronunciation Appa-latch-uh means that you are on the side that we trust.”^[5] Adherents to this pronunciation often argue a defense of residents' speech as opposed to tourists who say the word.

Other sources stir up a North vs. South opposition, claiming that the pronunciation of throwing an “apple atcha” comes from central and southern Appalachia, while the long -a in the second syllable and the ending “shuh” syllable must be derived from “Yankees.” However, not everyone within the central states of Appalachia speaks the word in the same way, and gatekeeping pronunciation is not how the editors of this textbook want students in Appalachian Studies to proceed anyway.

Beyond its pronunciation, defining Appalachia has been the topic of many scholarly discussions in print and in discussion at conferences, and some sources depend on cultural distinctions while others focus on geographical delineations. In general, Appalachia encompasses a long swath of territory on the eastern side of the North American continent and, according to the Appalachian Regional Commission (ARC) in 2021, includes 423 counties in thirteen of the United States–a number that has grown and shifted since the ARC’s establishment in 1965.^[6] Yet, some sources indicate that Appalachia extends as far north as Nova Scotia in Canada’s New Brunswick. As with most social constructions of identity, categorization persists: Northern Appalachia, Central Appalachia, Southern Appalachia–and not everyone agrees on the states and counties that fit within each of these three subsets.

Figure 1. The Appalachian Regional Commission defines Appalachia as the 423 counties in thirteen states depicted on this map. Photo courtesy of Appalachian Regional Commission.^[7] 

Still, many historians and Appalachian Studies scholars debate the accuracy of the ARC’s delineation of counties and the organization’s exclusion of other seemingly “Appalachian” counties. To illustrate the complicated attempts to pinpoint the physical location, Virginia Tech offers a dynamic list of maps that trace the geographic boundaries of Appalachia, ranging from the Works Progress Administration’s several attempts and the ARC’s nine variations since 1964.^[8] 

Our Approach to Appalachian Studies

        As a place-based study, similar to fields rooted in race and gender, no part of this textbook has happened in a vacuum. To that end, students might think of the chapters as scholarly works in communication with each other rather than a series of works that are dedicated to a singular topic in the given place. These chapters are not only in conversation with each other but also with readers. Regardless of being from the region or coming from outside of it, we all come to “know” Appalachia through preconceived notions, hidden biases, and a boat-load of stereotypes gleaned from popular culture. Dispelling stereotypes about any region or group of people is key to greater acknowledgement of individual commonalities along with differences. Because the book is an open electronic resource, we encourage readers to use its features to highlight sections that seem most significant and to add comments or questions to raise in class.

This textbook’s 27 authors introduce a comprehensive exploration of Appalachia, a region abundant in history, culture, and complexity, seeking to challenge pre-existing perceptions across a wide variety of topics that represent the arts, environment, culture, social justice, and health of Appalachia and Appalachians. By intentionally keeping our section headings broad, we hope to provide a framework that not only encompasses the current scope of study but also allows for additional chapters in future editions. This approach acknowledges the dynamic and evolving nature of Appalachian Studies, inviting further scholarship and engagement. Some chapters may seem to contradict lived experiences in the region; however, the goal of this textbook is not necessarily to replace the thoughts of students who come into Appalachian Studies classes but rather to encourage them to question where those thoughts originated and how they know them to be true or untrue. Methodologies across the chapters range from foundational scholarship about Appalachia found in academic journals and books along with the use of archival primary sources and oral histories, interviews, government document analyses, practitioner profiles, data analysis, ethnography, observations, and mixed methods. Readers should consult chapter bibliographies for excellent resources in the disciplinary field.

With the popular tendency to define the region as either cultural or geographic, for the purposes of this textbook anyone that self-identifies as Appalachian belongs here as much as the folks who do not claim Appalachian identity but still want to learn. This individualistic, perhaps simplistic approach to the identity aims to avoid not only gatekeeping but also to prevent further generalizations about the region. As such, the chapters in this book focus on specific areas, people, and topics within the expansive region as a way of conveying cultural multiplicity and widely varying lived experiences within Appalachia.

        In the “Arts in Appalachia” section, musician and music historian Esther Morgan-Ellis offers a trilogy of chapters that focus on musical expression distinctive to Appalachia. Her chapter called “The Making of ‘Appalachian Music,’” surveys this distinctive American genre and its influences by and on representations in mass media, then traces its development from ballad collecting to folk festivals, gospel singings, and the recording industry throughout the 20th and 21st centuries. Morgan-Ellis’s second contribution in this section is “Fiddle and Banjo Music of Southern Appalachia,” which identifies the origins of the fiddle and banjo as quintessential instruments in Appalachia back to their European and African influences. Morgan-Ellis describes how various individual musicians have contributed unique styles shaped by their diverse cultural backgrounds and personal experiences. Morgan-Ellis’s third chapter, titled “Unaccompanied Singing Traditions of the Southern Appalachians,” explains how traditions of singing without accompanying music, such as ballad singing, lined-out hymnody, and shape-note singing, have deep roots in Southern Appalachia, reflecting diverse themes as well as commonalities in vocal production, song forms, and historical origins outside the region.

Literary scholar Erin Presley shifts the book’s coverage of arts from musical to written expression, providing an overview of Appalachian literature, surveying the earliest authors who lived in and wrote about Appalachia to contemporary writers who have received great acclaim (including a Pulitzer Prize) and who offer diverse perspectives.

No coverage of the arts in Appalachia would be complete without acknowledging the institution of Appalshop in Whitesburg, Kentucky, and historian Catherine Herdman writes about this organization that documents traditions and provides a creative outlet for media depictions of Appalachia.

        The second section of the textbook, “Natural Resources and Environmental Justice in Appalachia,” contains five chapters. Anthropologist Amanda Green discusses “Appalachian Agriculture and Food Systems,” illuminating the historical, environmental, and cultural influences on the earliest agrarian practices of Indigenous peoples to contemporary movements that address issues like food sovereignty and climate change. In the following complementary chapter, Green covers “Appalachian Foodways,” offering how Appalachian cuisine has been influenced by globalization and colonization while the region’s diverse populations have built culinary traditions around such foods as soup beans, cornbread, biscuits, sorghum, and wild ramps, along with dishes based on homegrown ingredients. Green closes the chapter by explaining environmental justice and culinary tourism.

Historian Jacob Johnson, the author of “Chestnut Country: An Environmental History of the American Chestnut Tree,” defines and illustrates the Appalachian commons system through a historical treatment of the chestnut tree, once a vital component of the Appalachian ecosystem that underwent catastrophic decline due to a fungal blight, carrying vast ecological and economic repercussions and spurring a reevaluation of the functioning of the commons.

Providing their ethnographic research about illegal distillation, criminologist Carl Root and sociologist Edward Green call their chapter “Shine On: Distilling, Cultural Rebellion, and the Fluid Construction of Criminality” and describe the long tradition of moonshine making in Appalachia, illustrated by their profiles of infamous makers of “mountain whiskey” and closing with descriptions of moonshine’s resurgence in popularity and mass production.

Finally, medical professional Shawn Kimbro and literary and cultural scholar Lisa Day offer their mixed-method analysis of the Tennessee Valley Authority’s impact on east Tennessee illustrated through the Isom family. The chapter came together with interviews, sources, and photos from the collection of William Isom II, the director of Black in Appalachia.

“Cultures of Appalachia,” the third section of the textbook, covers specific populations as well as their traditions within Appalachia. Anthropologists Sarah Gripshover and Kelli Carmean provide coverage of Indigenous peoples and anthropological eras with “Native American Cultures of Appalachia,” critical content in any study of Appalachia.

Folklorists Sarah Craycraft, Jordan Lovejoy, Cassie Patterson, and Sydney Varajon define and illustrate “Folklore of Appalachia,” covering the region’s cultural artifacts and exploring how cultural traditions have been preserved, adapted, and shared across generations.

Sociologist Molly Clever and historian Katherine Antolini’s chapter “The Intersectional Redneck: Appalachian Identity Politics in Historical and Contemporary Perspective” explains the concept of intersectionality as it applies to Appalachia’s diverse populations in socioeconomic class, race, and gender identity through a historical analysis of the “redneck” label from the Blair Mountain protests and a contextual update with the West Virginia teachers’ strike a century later.

Finally, educational data analysts Allison Ricket, Tasha Werry, and Jacqueline Yahn provide “Social Capital for Appalachia’s Youth,” a chapter that covers the theoretical meanings of capital supplemented with practical application of how young people in the region can accomplish success by networking with different communities in which they are already involved as well as with groups that share their interests.

        The fourth section of the book is “Social Justice in Appalachia,” beginning with historian Riccardo Paolo D’Amato’s “The Great Society in the Mountains: Shaping Appalachia through the 1960s and Beyond,” which provides the social and cultural context of the “War on Poverty” along with an overview of grassroots organizing efforts and community action.

Historian Jacob Johnson contributes another chapter to the book with “Ravaged Land and Polarized People: Community Responses to Strip Mining in Eastern Kentucky, 1946-1972,” focusing on methods of coal extraction and its many harmful effects on the land along with the social welfare of Appalachian Kentuckians during the mid-20th century.

Complementing Johnson’s chapter, sociologists Bennett Judkins and Aysha Bodenhamer explain many social and individual effects of coal mining with their “Black Lung: A Continuing Struggle,” including institutions such as health care, the workplace, and government along with illustrating structural effects of poverty, unethical practices in labor, and low educational attainment that seem to accompany coal extraction.

        The final section of the textbook is “Health in Appalachia,” with two chapters that focus on some of the many implications of the opioid crisis in the region. Legal scholars Thomas Parker and Lynnette Noblitt offer thorough coverage of case law involving prescription drug manufacturers in “A Matter of Justice: Legal Response to the Appalachian Opioid Crisis.”

Complementing the legal response to the crisis, sociologist Holly Ningard offers practical perspectives in “Revisiting Restorative and Transformative Justice amid Appalachia’s Opioid Struggles,” illustrating alternative strategies of legal, medical, and community responses to addiction and its many effects on public and individual health.  

Respectful Language Use

        Part of the accessibility in our textbook’s title is the language we use to designate identities that pertain to ability, socioeconomic class, gender, and race. Like Appalachia, language is dynamic, shifting with emergent issues and questioning traditions that may no longer serve the needs of 21st century populations.

Similar to how this book is available in many forms to ensure optimal access for electronic readers and accessibility software, this textbook aims to avoid language that refers to one type of mobility or sensory ability. Ableism in language usually occurs unintentionally, and some examples include using a sensory expression to indicate understanding (e.g., “as residents saw/heard”).Instead, by using cognitive language such as “learned” or “became aware” (among other synonyms), we aim for inclusivity instead of inadvertently excluding readers with different capabilities. Similarly, we strive to avoid words pertaining to mobility or physical size when we are conveying a point.

A noticeable tendency in mass media as well as in scholarship is the use of “rich” to describe Appalachian culture and environment (e.g., “rich culture,” “rich tradition”), and while the word usually pertains to abundance or multiple variations, the term in informal usage connotes socioeconomic status. Since the War on Poverty led to stigmas about Appalachia and its residents, such as the phrase “rich land, poor people,”^[9] this textbook omits any mention of “rich” that may inadvertently connote monetary value, wealth, or the lack of wealth.

With the fit of Appalachian Studies within university general education, the editors want to reflect the community membership, integrative learning, and intercultural and global understanding that this interdisciplinary area contains–e.g., the chapters in this book include nearly sixty different countries and tribal affiliations. Wherever possible, the chapter authors convey the public history of Appalachia from the perspective of those who lived it, aiming for representation of different ages, genders, classes, and races. The editors aim for gender inclusivity not only in adding pronouns of contributors but also extending to gender-neutral language throughout the book.

As Appalachian Studies has moved into the 21st century, shifts in language toward greater inclusivity have occurred, including debates about the capitalization of racial identifiers. In the past, style manuals encouraged capitalizing only the place-based identifiers of ethnic origin–e.g., African, Asian, Latin American. However, since the racial reckonings that the United States has been undergoing since 2020, many bibliographical and journalistic organizations advise that racial designations should receive a capital letter.^[10] As a result, throughout this book we capitalize all race-based identifiers, including Asian, Black, Brown, Indigenous, Latine, White, and similar designations. We also capitalize “Other” and “Otherness” when the word refers to a person or a group of people who are divergent from the norm or the majority. By capitalizing all races, we agree with the MacArthur Foundation’s recommendations: “Language itself is radical. It can be used to either support or challenge the systemic racism we seek to dismantle. We hope that by consciously choosing to capitalize Black, Brown, Indigenous, and White, we can take a small step towards a more just and inclusive world.”^[11] Appalachia contains many identities, and we aim to recognize and respect the region’s pluralism across populations.

Editing the First Edition, Anticipating a Second Edition

Inspired by the publication of Slavery to Freedom: The African American Experience, the first open electronic resource at Eastern Kentucky University, Lisa Day began conversations in February 2020 with EKU Libraries faculty Kelly Smith, Laura Edwards, and Linda Sizemore about a similar resource for Appalachian Studies. She then gathered a team of Appalachian Studies faculty affiliates, including anthropologist Deann Allen, sociologist James Maples, Appalachian Studies scholar Valerie Miller, and English professor Erin Presley, and the group sent out a call for submissions and then vetted nearly 70 proposals. Nineteen of those proposals became the chapters that fill this textbook. Jacob Johnson initially served as an undergraduate editorial intern, learning about the editing process as he tracked down sources and verified authors’ use of material; after he graduated from Eastern Kentucky University and began graduate school at the University of Kentucky, he continued in this vital role and offered additional contributions. English associate professor and freelance editor Lisa Day edited the chapters for their consistency in style, clarity in language, academic rigor, use of sources, and coverage of topics within the field of Appalachian Studies.

Battling the retirements, departures, and job changes influenced by the COVID-19 pandemic, this textbook project still managed to follow nearly the same timeline as other open electronic resources (OER) due to the persistence of many talented folks at EKU and the patience of the contributing authors. This textbook format enables students, scholars, and interested readers from all over the world to access this resource free of charge through the EKU Libraries’ open educational practices and the Manifold digital publishing platform.

We have already identified some gaps in coverage; these missing components are not shortcomings but opportunities—both for instructors to individualize their curriculum with supplemental sources and for scholars to contribute to a more nuanced understanding of Appalachia. These topics serve as a call to action to delve deeper into areas that have been overlooked or underexplored: the significant military contributions of Appalachian service members and veterans; the transient and complex existence of mining company towns; the challenges of accessing reproductive healthcare in rural areas; the burgeoning visibility and influence of the LGBTQQIAAP2S+ community; the growing communities of specific non-hegemonic cultures; the region’s distinctive linguistic traits; migration patterns; biodiversity; educational history and advancements; the haunting silence surrounding violent crime; and much more content that should be explored in an introductory-level textbook in Appalachian Studies. A second edition will hopefully cover some of these gaps and also contain a section of creative nonfiction, fiction, and poetry from Appalachian authors.

As we anticipate the contributions that a second edition will bring, it is our hope that this collection will not only serve as an academic resource but also inspire paper topics and research projects within Appalachian Studies classes. By shedding light on multifaceted experiences and identities within Appalachia, we aim to foster a deeper appreciation for the region’s complexity and resilience. This edited collection of original scholarship is but the beginning of a conversation that we hope will invite further understanding of Appalachia and its place within the broader narrative of the United States.

Bibliography

“Appalachian Counties Served by ARC.” Appalachian Regional Commission, 2024. https://www.arc.gov/about-the-appalachian-region/

“Black and White: A Matter of Capitalization.” Chicago Manual of Style Shop Talk, June 22, 2020. https://cmosshoptalk.com/2020/06/22/black-and-white-a-matter-of-capitalization/

Engle, Kathryn. “Why Study Appalachia? Wisdom from Helen Lewis.” Kathryn Engle, August 31, 2015. https://kathrynengle.wordpress.com/2015/08/31/why-study-appalachia-wisdom-from-helen-lewis/

Mack, Kristen, and John Palfrey. “Capitalizing Black and White: Grammatical Justice and Equity.” MacArthur Foundation, August 26, 2020. https://www.macfound.org/press/perspectives/capitalizing-black-and-white-grammatical-justice-and-equity

National Educational Television. Appalachia: Rich Land, Poor People. 1968. Ojet D'Art, 2017. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BYpJVTdeAU

“Racial and Ethnic Identity.” APA Style, July 2022. https://apastyle.apa.org/style-grammar-guidelines/bias-free-language/racial-ethnic-minorities

Scales, Stewart, Emily Satterwhite, and Abby August. Mapping Appalachia: A Digital Collection. Department of Geography, Virginia Tech. https://mapappalachia.geography.vt.edu/

Williams, John Alexander. “Counting Yesterday’s People: Using Aggregate Data to Address the Problem of Appalachia’s Boundaries.” Journal of Appalachian Studies 2 (1996): 3-27.