Democrats/Leftists Shouldn’t Be Afraid to Make a Stand in Rural America (My Story)
I remember when former president Trump stood in front of a podium on the night of the election and proclaimed that the election had been swiftly taken from under him through malicious intent. It almost seemed fictional in its presentation. The consequences of such a statement seemed rather apparent-a stronger division among political lines in a country that was already edging towards what seems like a violent clash. If there was ever a time in which the dangers of engaging in the political atmosphere were apparent-it would have been here.
I, rather displeased in what seemed like a malicious slander against a fair election, wanted my voice to be heard in a very red and strictly conservative county. Being from Scott County, TN, I knew very well where the political lines were drawn and what seemed to be most acceptable as an “opinion,” to be shared. The county had 90% support for Trump during the election. I have gotten into debates with peers in my community, but I have ultimately been careful in who I shared those views with as I confronted the possibility of losing my job. Ultimately, I had suddenly quit when circumstances allowed me to provide for myself when I reached a pinnacle in the dissatisfaction and unfulfillment in what I was doing. I was free to do as I wanted. So, how could I voice this opinion in a peaceful yet noticeable manner in my community? What was my attempt to show dissent in what should be a very hostile community of such opinions? Peaceful yet noticeable were my two ground rules. The result was this:
To make my car very noticeably distinct when it circled around the local Walmart. There was no way that this would go unnoticed. Tacked with very visible political slogan and a website marked with, “leftist,” I should have been a prime target in one of the tensest days of the year. Yet, here I am, a few months later, reflecting on what seemed to be a dangerous and impulsive decision. This is what a third-party observer would think when looking at the political statistics of Scott County.
So what happened?
A few stares.
In a conceal carry state, no one pulled a gun on me. No one threatened me. No one assaulted me. No one yelled insults. I only received disapproving eyes. My stunt, successfully led to nothing; it was never the intent to rile people up, just to demonstrate in a very unipolar town that opposing dissent did exist. That the opinions of the left were not just relegated to urban centers. They existed in every part of the country. Unfortunately, they have just been so successfully silenced in areas like my home community, where the predominant opinion is displayed by pastors, fellow church members, coworkers, and the local medias that are present. Not by force by any means as seen by my stunt, but by fear of outing ourselves as leftists, or simply liberals in most areas. I held onto the fear as well. It was until I was able to quit my job that the anxieties associated with my beliefs were lifted. The point here is that I am privileged to be a rural leftist that can speak my mind without some of the repercussions many, like myself, may fear.
What I do want to make clear is this, violence is not the denominator keeping leftism out of rural areas. It is the institutional control that disenfranchises, typically by threat of someone’s social status or job, not only people like me, who simply identify as leftists, but groups who are disenfranchised by things they can’t control such as: their skin color, sexuality, and/or gender. Transphobia, racism (both overt and intrinsic), and homophobia have made prominent and public displays in my community’s supposed safe havens such as school and church. There seems to be no wonder why members of either one of these groups make the decision to move to urban centers where the viewpoints or identities displayed are more mainstream. This only serves to leave community members, who may be crushed by class issues, without a voice in rural America, which has become so seemingly attached to right wing politics. When leftists leave due to the social pressures placed them, what stands to fight against the strengthening grip of republicans in areas like Scott County? The area seems so far from becoming a community willing to vote for things they desperately need like: universal healthcare, social program funding, and criminal justice reform.
The lesson from this is simple. If you are privileged to take a stand, please do so. The threat of violence against leftists in these areas are overblown.
It’s a stereotype that, like any other, makes a general assertion about a group. If you wouldn’t do it to a black community, it doesn’t stand to do such a thing to rural, and notably, Appalachian communities.
My community is peaceful and there seems to be rarely a soul here who would physically harm someone due to their political or other identity. This isn’t to say that emotions could flare; there’s no reason to taunt people in public. There are rules to organizing and doing so in a peaceful manner. Obviously, don’t organize alone if the threat of violence is sincerely high, in which my anecdotal experience or research may not account for. Acknowledge your social standing/risks and fight accordingly. some of us are privileged to take this stand and some are not. There are risks to outing oneself as a person of dissent, which mostly impact your social status, so people that choose to do so are not better than those who don’t.
The left simply cannot abandon the rural working class. The stereotypes of violent and inherently conservative by nature do nothing but leave the area vulnerable to the issues that plague today and will do so in the future until a rural movement is recognized. History shows that rural America is not untouchable. Look no further than the Coal Wars of West Virginia which brought significant progress to the American working class. As such, I leave you all with this simple plea: if your voice is usable, then let it be used.
I know this is a complex topic, and that our levels of risk are inherently different, but we simply cannot choose to stay in the dark forever. Create groups and don’t fight alone. Be a voice and if you can’t-consider working apolitically towards certain policy goals.
Together, we can change rural America.
