“What is a hillbilly?” I remember my grandmother asking me this question two summers ago. I remember thinking hard about how to answer this question. I knew it would be difficult regardless, due to the fact that my grandmother knows only a little English, and I only know a little Spanish. However, there was still something else that would prove to be an issue. I didn’t really know what a hillbilly was. I mean, I thought I knew, but when I tried to put it into words to translate for my grandmother, I couldn’t. I kept thinking, “Just what is a hillbilly?” and “Isn’t it just another word for redneck?” I couldn’t answer my grandmother’s question, so I simply told her that I couldn’t explain it; that it was just one of those things you just knew. My grandmother just shrugged it off and didn’t ask about it again, but the question kept popping up in my mind, “What is a hillbilly?”
According to dictionary.com a “Hillbilly” is “A derogatory term for a person from a backwoods or other remote area, especially from the mountains of the southern U.S.; often used offensively.” So basically a not-so-smart, almost hobo-like, person who lives in the woods…Funny, but I don’t think anybody is like that. The people I do know who “live in the woods” are very nice, and well rounded people who in their own way know more than I do. Sure, they may be a bit eccentric when it comes to certain things, but then again, who isn’t? But people would rather label things than look into them. So I guess if my grandmother ever decides to ask me again, I’ll just tell her, “A crazy guy named Billy who lives on a hill.”
Nicolle
The Kids of Morgantown.
on Tuesday, November 1, 2011
I’ve been going to Morgantown High for three years now, and I’ve always thought that my high school was any different, I thought that the kids in my school were more well rounded and overall nicer people. I had never seen any bullies in my school, and every one seemed to do pretty well in class, I never saw anybody cheating. My naieve opinions changed qiuckly when I started leaving the comfort of my house more often. I began to see how my peers could be seen as ‘holigans’ by the others, and that some kids weren’t as well manner and goodly as I had previously thought. But that didn’t apply to all of them, sure at first I was really surprised, and I stopped leaving my house for a while but I realized that just because these kids were perticipating in..less than reputable acts…didn’t mean they weren’t as nice as I had thought they were, my opinions of them fell dramtically, but a lot of them were still nicer than a lot of the adults I knew.
When I traveled to other states for various reasons, I saw what kind of people lived there, and I saw how the interacted with one another. They were WAY less patient and understanding than the folks around Morgantown. Every state will have it’s problems, but West Virgina is pretty much one of the better states that I could’ve ended up in. I like that people will wave at you where ever you are, that someone is always ready to strike up a converstaion with you, and that people will always be genuinly concerned with you and whatever problems you may have. I don’t often see that in other states, and it’s always a relief to come back to Morgantown after any long trips.
As I entered my junior year in high school, I started to be=reak out of my shell, I started to talk more with students in different groups, and I made so many new friends, I found out that a lot more people did drugs than I thought, there were a lot more parties than I had known about, and there was much more underlying drama than I had previously anticipated. But everyone was still really accomidating, and I began to care less and less about all of the drugs, parties, and drama it was so irrelevant. People can still be wonderful, and you don’t have to agree with every decision that they make in order to be friends with them.
When I traveled to other states for various reasons, I saw what kind of people lived there, and I saw how the interacted with one another. They were WAY less patient and understanding than the folks around Morgantown. Every state will have it’s problems, but West Virgina is pretty much one of the better states that I could’ve ended up in. I like that people will wave at you where ever you are, that someone is always ready to strike up a converstaion with you, and that people will always be genuinly concerned with you and whatever problems you may have. I don’t often see that in other states, and it’s always a relief to come back to Morgantown after any long trips.
As I entered my junior year in high school, I started to be=reak out of my shell, I started to talk more with students in different groups, and I made so many new friends, I found out that a lot more people did drugs than I thought, there were a lot more parties than I had known about, and there was much more underlying drama than I had previously anticipated. But everyone was still really accomidating, and I began to care less and less about all of the drugs, parties, and drama it was so irrelevant. People can still be wonderful, and you don’t have to agree with every decision that they make in order to be friends with them.
This past weekend I went to my hometown to attend the yearly Glass Festival. It’s typical of a small town festival; bright lights flashing, overcrowded streets, music blaring, and food as far as the eye can see.
When we crossed over the state line, it didn’t feel like we had ever left West Virginia. I witnessed the same things I’ve seen here; trees beginning to change colors, teenagers hanging out with their friends, and people flocking by the dozen to watch local bands.
As dusk was nearing, I was able to meet up with a few old friends. Thinking back, it doesn’t seem like we did all that much. We roamed the streets for hours before giving in to the urge to buy food. Needless to say, the smell of all the types of food was just too tempting. We feasted like kings until we couldn’t possibly eat anymore.
After the festivities had come to an end, my friend mentioned that she wanted to go to WVU for college. She has to wear a uniform year round except every now and then, when they will have dress down days where they can choose to wear clothing from a college they hope to attend. So, of course, she jumped on the opportunity to display her love for WVU.
She if often criticized for loving a sports team from hillbilly nation. Some people even went as far as to say things like, “Don’t you know why they don’t have a CSI West Virginia? It’s because they are all closely related!” I have to admit, that is one of the more clever ways I have heard someone stereotype people from West Virginia. This witty comment did put my view into perspective, however. Even though my hometown is only a short drive away, and considerately smaller than Morgantown; stereotypes are present nonetheless. I never stopped to think that a place so close by would see us as another world. To me, it always felt the same place. After all, the people were more or less the same; same accent, same habits, and just ordinary people.
Kaylee
When we crossed over the state line, it didn’t feel like we had ever left West Virginia. I witnessed the same things I’ve seen here; trees beginning to change colors, teenagers hanging out with their friends, and people flocking by the dozen to watch local bands.
As dusk was nearing, I was able to meet up with a few old friends. Thinking back, it doesn’t seem like we did all that much. We roamed the streets for hours before giving in to the urge to buy food. Needless to say, the smell of all the types of food was just too tempting. We feasted like kings until we couldn’t possibly eat anymore.
After the festivities had come to an end, my friend mentioned that she wanted to go to WVU for college. She has to wear a uniform year round except every now and then, when they will have dress down days where they can choose to wear clothing from a college they hope to attend. So, of course, she jumped on the opportunity to display her love for WVU.
She if often criticized for loving a sports team from hillbilly nation. Some people even went as far as to say things like, “Don’t you know why they don’t have a CSI West Virginia? It’s because they are all closely related!” I have to admit, that is one of the more clever ways I have heard someone stereotype people from West Virginia. This witty comment did put my view into perspective, however. Even though my hometown is only a short drive away, and considerately smaller than Morgantown; stereotypes are present nonetheless. I never stopped to think that a place so close by would see us as another world. To me, it always felt the same place. After all, the people were more or less the same; same accent, same habits, and just ordinary people.
Kaylee
Re: Things to Come
on Friday, October 28, 2011
As the photograph displayed on the sidebar of the blog claims, cold times are definitely ahead. The chillier days of autumn are pressing in on us, and as I type this the temperature is a mere 37 degrees Fahrenheit. The air is dry and people are gradually giving in to their winter apparel. A few flurries may be seen descending from above any day now.
Many people like me who are not fond of the cold may have a desire to move South -- anywhere South, really, as long as it's warmer. But of course the retired folk usually manage to buy up places down there, and residential areas are naturally going to be pricier there anyhow. So despite my dislike for cold, I probably won't get to be moving South anytime soon; it's when I force that fact onto myself that I'm a tad grateful for living in a place with definable seasons. Because I'm used to it. I'm going to be used to hazardous wintry roads and biting temperatures. I can't imagine it being the other way around: having to move from some nice Floridian paradise to somewhere in the mountains, completely unprepared for the colder days.
Driving on a snowy day once, my mother was frustrated by someone going exeedingly slow. The road conditions called for some caution, but this person was just overly paranoid. My mother said, "In the winter you can always tell who isn't from here."
And it's pretty true.
Many people like me who are not fond of the cold may have a desire to move South -- anywhere South, really, as long as it's warmer. But of course the retired folk usually manage to buy up places down there, and residential areas are naturally going to be pricier there anyhow. So despite my dislike for cold, I probably won't get to be moving South anytime soon; it's when I force that fact onto myself that I'm a tad grateful for living in a place with definable seasons. Because I'm used to it. I'm going to be used to hazardous wintry roads and biting temperatures. I can't imagine it being the other way around: having to move from some nice Floridian paradise to somewhere in the mountains, completely unprepared for the colder days.
Driving on a snowy day once, my mother was frustrated by someone going exeedingly slow. The road conditions called for some caution, but this person was just overly paranoid. My mother said, "In the winter you can always tell who isn't from here."
And it's pretty true.
Taryn
Appalachian Contrast
on Wednesday, October 5, 2011
It was fifth grade when I moved to West Virginia from Denver. The differences I immediately noticed were of the environment:
1. There was so much more humidity.
2. There were so many more trees.
3. There were so many more hills.
I remember Denver’s winters being blizzard-ridden, cold, and dry. In as long as I’d lived in Denver, we’d only had one day off of school due to the snow, probably because of ease of transportation in a city built on flat terrain. Here, it’s so plagued with hills and curvy roads that a thin sheet of ice on the street is a life hazard in some parts of town, and the humidity here makes a lovely blinding veil of fog in the mornings. I was ecstatic when I’d had my first West Virginian snow day off from school—and almost awestruck when it lasted three consecutive days.
But in terms of the people, I didn’t notice much of a difference in the accents of West Virginians compared to the accents of those in Colorado, and even today when I visit Colorado I can’t pick out too many differences. But the people here—the feel here is much different to that of Denver. Even my Dad, who still lives in Colorado, commented on the people here when he was visiting. “People wave to you from their cars!” he’d marvel. “And they smile at you from the sidewalk!” And it’s true, it’s an obvious difference between the two cities; Morgantown is a generally friendlier place than Denver. But another observation about Morgantown’s people is that the white and African American ratio is skewed. The African American population at my school is probably outnumbered by whites in a 50:1 ratio, in the most honest estimate I can provide. Whereas, in Colorado, the numbers are very different—for example, my fourth grade class (in the private school that I attended) had eight children in it, and from those eight children, four of them were African American and one was Hispanic.
I never really knew much about Appalachia until I’d moved here. The first time I'd heard the word, "Appalachia," was in my fourth grade class in Colorado. It was just a name then—the Appalachian Mountains, which, at that time, was just an inferior mountain range to the Rockies. Never had it occurred to me that Appalachia was a region until I’d visited it. Upon hearing that I’d be moving here, I had no idea that I was supposed to be expecting uneducated, moonshine-guzzling, overall-wearing gun-huggers in log cabins. Which sucks the fun out of it. Everybody visiting Appalachia should expect that :]
Haley
Haley
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