#CityBooks: White Trash and Hillbilly Elegy
Two books released this summer are justifiably garnering attention for their looks at the white working class — suddenly a hot topic given the political rise of Donald Trump. I read both White Trash by Nancy Isenberg and Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance recently. While not touching on urban issues directly, they’re both important reads for different reasons, and provide a window into a population that does not get as much attention in writing about urban and civic issues.
White Trash reads like two books. The first part reminds me of Howard Zinn’s famous work, A People’s History of the United States, in that it focuses on history (as far back as Jamestown) as it affected the poor and working class, not as experienced and told by the elites. The final third of the book shifts to more of a cultural focus, as various poor white archetypes (hillbillies, rednecks, country boys, white trash) assert a cultural pre-eminence. It also covers the rise of the trailer park — most often associated (in urban environments and elsewhere) with lower class whites. Narrow in focus, looking almost exclusively at southerners (save for a few chapters about colonial and early America), it would have benefitted from a broader look at the white working class across the country. It nonetheless provides important historical information and context. A theme throughout Isenberg’s book is the exclusion by the elites of those seen as less desirable — historically because of race, family history, appearance, or habits. One can see a different kind of exclusion today, in the way gentrification or redevelopment can occur with little regard for the people or institutions swept aside in the process, or the laissez-faire attitude towards those who lack contemporary desirable traits, and their communities (for example, the way globalization and deindustrialization has devastated communities with lower educational attainment). Much ink gets spilled over the plight of educated young professionals in booming housing markets; much less for the people whose skills are no longer valued, or whose livelihoods have suffered as collateral damage in a changing economy. On the flip side, the cultural pre-eminence of poor white archetypes is a valuable read for understanding how cultural identity politics — and often resentment — manifest in politics at all orders of government.
Vance’s book is one of the best I’ve read in a long time. The 31 year old memoirist tells the story of his hillbilly family from Appalachia, who followed the well-trodden trail from Eastern Kentucky to the industrial midwest following World War II. His family follows a well-understood pattern — World War II veteran (Vance’s grandfather) moves to secures unionized, blue-collar work; children and grandchildren face dimmer economic prospects at home, the successful ones move on to good opportunities elsewhere, those less so stay behind and struggle with addictions and family dysfunction or breakup. In Vance’s case, a combination of extended family support (notably, his grandparents Mamaw and Papaw) and strokes of fortune help him escape, from the Marines to Ohio State to Yale Law School. Others in his community aren’t as fortunate. Poverty and addiction continues to spread in former industrial strongholds. Vance’s memoir is an insight into the psychology and behaviors of these communities. In examining what helped him succeed, he also probes what policy changes might help others with similar circumstances get ahead. There are limits to this, though. Vance — and his policy prescriptions — speak to how people of any background can reach the professional and elite schools that churn out economically and socially successful adults. Yet, there are — and will always be — only so many spots at places like Yale Law School. It can’t save Middletown, it can only offer a way out.
If there is one good thing that has come out of Donald Trump’s campaign, it is an increase in attention on the plight of working class whites and their communities. Isenberg’s work contributes to the historic context; Vance’s to the culture that exists today. They’re both worth a read for anyone engaged in civic issues.
