{"title":"Fooling with Things: Affordances and Appalachian Wheelchair Users","authors":"Zach Glendening","doi":"10.5406/23288612.29.2.04","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/23288612.29.2.04","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract Disability theory suggests that built environments stigmatize wheelchair users. This article explores how wheelchair users resist stigma by altering possibilities for action, or affordances, in their environments by “fooling” or “tinkering” with things. I focus on wheelchair users in the US region of Appalachia for three reasons. First, academic studies of stigma against either Appalachians or wheelchair users tend to exclude people belonging to both groups. Second, Appalachia's particular forms of tinkering can complement existing work on affordance management by disabled people. Finally, the spatial and technological distance between many Appalachian wheelchair users gives them insight into how rural settings influence the collective manipulation of affordances. Results indicate that Appalachian wheelchair users tinker with affordances in a variety of settings and with many kinds of collaborators. Although not politically motivated in most cases, their actions nonetheless expose intersecting ableism and classism in American built environments.","PeriodicalId":93112,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Appalachian studies","volume":"144 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136204214","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"The United Shades of America","authors":"Susan Divita","doi":"10.5406/23288612.29.2.09","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/23288612.29.2.09","url":null,"abstract":"Nikki Giovanni, Appalachian poet of the Black revolution, replies poetically and practically with these words as she prepares chitlins with host W. Kamau Bell. Throughout the second episode of Bell's seventh season of The United Shades of America, “Black in Appalachia,” Giovanni's words are a theme that climbs up hills, travels into hollers, explores woods and farms, and eventually settles at tables, on porches, and around campfires in Tennessee, Virginia, Kentucky, and West Virginia. Throughout the region, Bell visits Black Appalachians who share and reflect upon this work that accompanies being Black in Appalachia and the good that exists today (though often removed from the narrative), which is the fruit of the labor of generations of Black Appalachians. Bell opens the episode with a harmonica lesson, possibly making more than a few Appalachians roll their eyes, thinking “Here we go again.” However, the episode's true beauty lies in Bell's ability to deftly and honestly navigate often stereotypical practices to embrace truths that exist beneath the customs and beliefs that define being Appalachian. Poet, founder of the news organization Black By God, and self-appointed docent of Appalachia, Crystal Good is Bell's expert and contemplative guide throughout this revelatory process. Good's contribution enhances Bell's process by inserting critical details left out of the Appalachian narrative. Early in the episode, Good explains Harper's Ferry in terms of the John Brown story, but then expands upon this established narrative to include Storer College, where the first meeting of the Niagara Movement—the foundation of the NAACP—was held. Bell, Good, and the show's creators effectively create, establish, and follow this road map: identify established narrative or cultural practice, expose meaning and underlying misconceptions, and reveal Black Appalachian elements left out of the narrative.Bell joins Marcus Oglesby in the woods at one stop in the journey for squirrel hunting and pawpaw (Asimina triloba) picking, revealing a lifestyle where necessity has taught self-sufficiency and patience, though often presented as Appalachian foolery, isolation, and lack of education. Oglesby states, “We are nature,” reflecting on not only the strength and skill it takes to sustain yourself in nature but also the right of humans to participate in the ebb and flow of the giving and taking away necessary in the circle of life. Oglesby's skills and practices are his life, yet they also serve as an act of resistance against the accepted narrative, one in which Appalachian independence is often wrongly represented—an independence that until now was rarely presented as Black.Down the road in eastern Kentucky, Dr. Bill Turner reflects on the fate of Lynch, a small town, like so many in Appalachia, dependent on coal, which has lost its young sons and daughters after being abandoned by the coal companies. He explains to Bell that one in five coal miners in Appalachia were B","PeriodicalId":93112,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Appalachian studies","volume":"60 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136204166","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"A Brief Examination of the Northernmost Appalachian Counties: Southern Tier New York","authors":"Casey Jakubowski","doi":"10.5406/23288612.29.2.05","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/23288612.29.2.05","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract This note briefly overviews the history of the Appalachian region of New York State, composed of the “Southern Tier” counties from Chautauqua County in the west to Schoharie County in the east. Counties in the area are rural and historically farming-based. New York's policies are urban normative and often ignore the Southern Tier region for the benefit of larger cities. The note examines how the region has significant resources but has faced structural issues due to policy implementation by New York City and Albany-based bureaucrats. This note introduces readers outside of the area to the state's rural areas.","PeriodicalId":93112,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Appalachian studies","volume":"54 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136204167","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"From the Editor","authors":"Rebecca R. Scott","doi":"10.5406/23288612.29.2.01","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/23288612.29.2.01","url":null,"abstract":"The Fall 2023 issue of the Journal of Appalachian Studies features three articles with innovative perspectives on questions of perennial interest to the region. The first, entitled “Animalizing Appalachia: A Critical Animal Studies Analysis of Early Sociological Surveys of Southern Appalachia” by Corey Lee Wrenn, uses an animal-centric lens to re-examine three early sociological accounts of Appalachia: George E. Vincent's “A Retarded Frontier,” which came out in the American Journal of Sociology in 1898; John C. Campbell's Southern Highlander and His Homeland, which was published in 1921; and Mandel Sherman and Thomas R. Henry's Hollow Folk from 1933. Whereas the cultural and economic marginalization of Appalachian people in these texts has been frequently the object of analysis, the critical animal studies lens Wrenn applies to these texts deconstructs both social hierarchies and the scientific classifications that bolster them, which were produced in these early examples of social science. The categories of human and animal prove to be a rich site for the exploration of power structures and taken-for-granted elements of social order.The second article, by Sarah L. McMullen and Alison A. Ormsby, is entitled “Using a Mixed Methods Approach to Investigate Land Use History and Herbaceous Plant Diversity in Southern Appalachia.” This article uses ethnobotany, which is the study of the relationships between human societies and plants, to offer a new perspective on Appalachian regional cultures. The authors bring contemporary ethnobotany and archival research together with artistic representations, scientific accounts, and land use history to trace the history that can be found in the regional flora in the six hundred acres at Christmount Christian Assembly, located near Black Mountain, North Carolina. This research points to the valuable revitalization of local ecological knowledges and the place-based cultural practices of the Cherokee and other Indigenous peoples, emphasizes the importance of the protection of biodiversity in the Appalachian region, and offers a methodological approach to understanding natural history in other parts of the region.The third article in this issue is entitled “Fooling with Things: Affordances and Appalachian Wheelchair Users” by Zach Glendening. The prevalence of disability in Appalachia exceeds the national average by 3.5 percent, indicating that disability is an important element of Appalachian diversity. Glendening uses a critical disabilities studies framework to understand how wheelchair users in North Central Appalachia resist stigma and expand their mobility by altering the existing possibilities for action, or affordances, in their environments. Through interviews with disabled Appalachian wheelchair users, this article illustrates how people work to expand access and exceed the limitations set by things like insurance coverage and equipment failures on their ability to participate in the activities they desir","PeriodicalId":93112,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Appalachian studies","volume":"44 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136204210","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Digital Watauga","authors":"Anne Ward","doi":"10.5406/23288612.29.2.11","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/23288612.29.2.11","url":null,"abstract":"For centuries, an archive was the physical place where documents, artifacts, and other historical items were stored and where researchers and historians could reach back into the past to study the people, events, and records of our history. The archive was a location with an address and a room number—a place to visit in order to sift through the remnants of the past.The digital age has created new opportunities for archivists, historians, and the public. Digital Watauga is an online archive devoted to maintaining a robust, full historical record of Watauga County, located in the Blue Ridge Mountains of western North Carolina. The digital collection of photographs, artifacts, and documents went online in 2014 with the goal of providing an “archival memory” for Watauga County.Watauga is one of the 423 counties identified by the Appalachian Regional Commission (ARC) as being a part of Appalachia (ARC 2023). Prior to the arrival of white settlers, Indigenous people used this area as hunting grounds. Watauga became incorporated as a county in the state of North Carolina in 1849; the town of Boone, named for Daniel Boone, who, legend has it, hunted in the area, was chartered in 1872 (Watauga County 2023).In many ways, Watauga reflects familiar stereotypes associated with Appalachia. Poverty is a significant issue—the poverty rate in Watauga is about 22 percent (US Census 2022), and about 26 percent of the children in the public school system qualify for free or reduced-fee lunches. In some of the more rural schools in the county, the percentage of children who qualify for free and reduced-fee lunches can be more than 40 percent (Garrett Price, Director of Communications for Watauga County Schools, email to author, 2021). While the roads to Watauga have improved over the last century, the county is two hours from the nearest airport and about an hour from the nearest interstate highway, which makes it unlikely that Watauga will ever be a home for large companies seeking easy access to transportation hubs and highways.The county residents are predominantly white, but the county also includes the Junaluska community, one of the oldest Black communities in the Appalachian region. Many of the earliest Black residents of Boone were brought to Watauga as enslaved people in the nineteenth century. Until the Civil Rights era of the 1960s, Watauga was a segregated community, with separate schools for Black and white people, and limited employment options for Black people (Junaluska Heritage Association 2023).The four largest employers in Watauga are organizations that bring people of different backgrounds and beliefs to the area: Appalachian State University, Appalachian Regional Healthcare System, Watauga County Schools, and Samaritan's Purse (North Carolina Department of Commerce 2022). The rural county has become popular with second-home buyers, leading to a serious housing shortage (High Country Association of Realtors 2022). The history of Watauga County is","PeriodicalId":93112,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Appalachian studies","volume":"58 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136204212","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Craft: An American History","authors":"Philis Alvic, Thomas A. Adler","doi":"10.5406/23288612.29.2.08","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/23288612.29.2.08","url":null,"abstract":"Glenn Adamson is a distinguished writer in a relatively new field: craft history and criticism. He is the author of several books presenting his views on the history and development of craft, for example, Fewer, Better Things (2018); The Invention of Craft (2013); and The Craft Reader (2010). He is a founding editor of the Journal of Modern Craft, a peer-reviewed academic journal in England that focuses primarily, though not exclusively, on studio crafts. Those impressive credentials demand his acknowledgment as an important voice on the topic of this new volume: Craft: An American History.This work is a social history of America with a craft overlay. As such, it presents as a well-documented chronological ramble through the main periods of American history, beginning with the colonial period (chapter 1, entitled “The Artisan Republic”). In eight more chapters, Adamson moves through subsequent eras, each bearing a descriptive chapter title: the antebellum nineteenth century (chapter 2: “A Self-Made Nation”); the Civil War and Reconstruction (chapter 3: “Learn Trades or Die”); the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries (chapter 4: “A More Perfect Union”); the prewar years (chapter 5: “Americana”); the era of World War II (chapter 6: “Making War”); the post-World War II era (chapter 7: “Declarations of Independence”); the late twentieth century (chapter 8: “Cut and Paste”); and a contemplative overview from the perspective of 2020 (chapter 9: “Can Craft Save America?”).In answering the question posed by his final chapter title, Adamson notes that in our divisive present day, craft endures as a “shared undertaking” (301). He asserts that craft retains “the potential to bring together people of all backgrounds” (306), in part by refusing a “false choice between individualism and community” (316), through the tolerance and compromise that inhere in all craft production.Despite its many fascinations, a key problem with this work is Adamson's flexible and broad—arguably too broad—definition of craft; at the very beginning of the book, he proclaims that “whenever a skilled person makes something using their hands, that's craft” (2–3). By defining “craft” as skilled labor, Adamson encompasses many things—perhaps too many things—made by hand. By including virtually all skilled or artisanal labor as craft, he forgoes the labeling used by previous writers about crafts to define movements and to identify categories of crafts within the greater crafts community.A positive consequence of this approach is that Adamson avoids academic quagmires in deep discussions of crafts: the “art vs. craft” controversy, and the sorts of distinct differences between fine and domestic crafts. He neglects to deal with questions of quality and evaluative standards at all, although such issues are particularly important in the studio crafts movement. In the book, Adamson touches only tangentially on the studio crafts movement. The book also is surprisingly short on photos a","PeriodicalId":93112,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Appalachian studies","volume":"70 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136204168","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"The Bootleg Coal Rebellion: The Pennsylvania Miners Who Seized an Industry, 1925–1942","authors":"Lou Martin","doi":"10.5406/23288612.29.2.06","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/23288612.29.2.06","url":null,"abstract":"In The Bootleg Coal Rebellion: The Pennsylvania Miners Who Seized an Industry, 1925–1942, Mitch Troutman recovers the hidden history of miners who, facing mine shutdowns and growing unemployment, continued to illegally mine and sell coal using improvised methods. The book opens with a foreword by the late Staughton Lynd who, during his career, wrote extensively about grassroots workers’ movements that were often at odds with established unions, which nicely frames major issues that Troutman explores in the rest of the book. Troutman relies on a few dozen interviews conducted in the 1990s by sociologist Michael Kozura, whose father had been involved in the bootleg coal industry. Troutman also pieces together the history of this widespread but illegal activity that occurred in eastern Pennsylvania over two decades, using extensively researched newspapers and government documents.Bootleg mining had its roots in common practices like digging coal out of company refuse piles or nearby outcroppings to use for home heating. During the Long Strike of 1925, miners harvested coal from idled underground and surface mines, and as more and more anthracite mines were idled for financial reasons, miners and their family members began more audacious methods. They bored shafts just wide enough for one person to go twenty to even one hundred feet down into a coal seam. A helper at the top of the “coal hole” would winch buckets of coal back to the surface.During the Great Depression, bootlegging coal became so commonplace that many local governments tolerated it. In 1936, a Pennsylvania state commission found that there were some thirteen thousand people engaged in the bootleg coal industry, including miners with their own coal holes, independent truckers who sold the coal in places like Philadelphia and Baltimore, and breakers who constructed their own machines to pulverize the coal to different sizes.Troutman charts the rise of this movement, which emerged as an organic response to economic conditions, and he also explores its political implications and organizational dynamics. Communist Party organizers saw potential in a movement that prioritized human rights above property rights, and some worked to organize Unemployed Councils to petition for government aid and suspend evictions. When Pennsylvania legislators introduced a bill to require truckers to carry receipts, which threatened the whole bootleg industry, thousands formed the Independent Miners’ Association and successfully lobbied against it. Regardless of formal organizations, Troutman emphasizes that bootleg miners were not radicalized by organizers and had an ideology “rooted in their own history, traditions, and circumstances” (4).The United Mine Workers of America (UMWA) looms large in The Bootleg Coal Rebellion as does its president, John L. Lewis. To end the 1925 strike, Lewis agreed to a five-year contract that offered little to the strikers. When the Depression came, anthracite miners called for","PeriodicalId":93112,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Appalachian studies","volume":"24 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136204209","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Wheeling's Polonia: Reconstructing Polish Community in a West Virginia Steel Town","authors":"Teresa Meddings","doi":"10.5406/23288612.29.2.07","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/23288612.29.2.07","url":null,"abstract":"In Wheeling's Polonia: Reconstructing Polish Community in a West Virginia Steel Town, William H. Gorby brings to life the history of the Polish immigrants who settled in Wheeling during the early part of the twentieth century. Polonia, by definition, are people of Polish descent living outside of Poland. With over a decade of research, Gorby paints a vivid picture of the Polish immigrants who established a vibrant, prosperous Polish American community in the heart of the upper Ohio Valley steel and coal industry. He develops a comprehensive look into the past and how these individuals came together to found a long-standing tradition of working together for the common good and building a community that would stand the test of time. The plentiful jobs available in steel factories and coal mines originally encouraged the immigration of Polish people to the Wheeling area. Once in Wheeling, they worked together to foster a firm sense of community and reached out to already established immigrant groups. Gorby eloquently describes shared events that helped shape the Polish community in Wheeling as they worked to find stability while navigating the “Americanization” of their people. Importantly, the St. Ladislaus Church emerged as the epicenter of Polish life in Wheeling. Most events were held in or around the church, where weddings, funerals, community meetings, union meetings, and festivals often took place. One such event was the annual “May Processions.” Gorby writes that “children joyously marched around the school and neighborhood in white dresses carrying flowers to crown a statue of the Virgin Mary and a May queen while celebrating the Lenten and spring seasons” (85). This event, the author points out, was a means for the Poles to publicly demonstrate their “religious-ethnic identity” (85).When the United States ended its neutrality position in World War I, Wheeling felt the impact immediately. The Catholic Church refused to place American flags in any churches. The diocese claimed that “the church is a universal organization and does not allow any flag of any nation on inside walls” (124). The church was such a fundamental and integral part of the Polish community that immigrants faced tensions related to the expectations of conforming to the ideals of “civic nationalism,” prompted as they were, in Gorby's view, to “promote the greatness of American political ideals and the benefits of citizenship” (125). In Wheeling, the Poles used various cultural displays and public activities such as street parades and Polish Catholic events that presented a “strong pro-war loyalty” (125). Through these events, their “Polishness,” and their willingness to publicly “fight for America,” the immigrants could be thought of as good Americans and good Poles at the same time (126).Gorby addresses labor and economic issues that affected the Polish immigrant community. For instance, the children in the Polish families usually remained in their household longer than c","PeriodicalId":93112,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Appalachian studies","volume":"33 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136204211","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Blackalachia","authors":"Jimmy Dean Smith","doi":"10.5406/23288612.29.2.10","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/23288612.29.2.10","url":null,"abstract":"In his lengthy Pitchfork review of Moses Sumney's first album, Aromanticism (2017), Jason King does not attempt to contain his enthusiasm for the “art-soul singer-songwriter” (2017). In the first three paragraphs, King compares Sumney with the literary figures Langston Hughes, Bartleby, Nietzsche, and James Baldwin, on the one hand, and with Arthur Russell, Gilbert Gil, India.Arie, and Tina Turner (among other musicians) on the other (2017). Sumney's sound also warrants a rapturous, complicated treatment; King (2017) notes its “drifty, slo-mo songcraft and ambient production” and its “austere guitar arrangements and performances” while also noting its kinship with “Brazilian jazz . . . neo-jazz [and] neo-soul,” concluding that his “idiosyncratic sound borrows from the musical style of every decade since the 1970s, but doesn't seem beholden to any specific one.” Sumney's music remains rooted in accessible experimentation, and the singer's voice (his mid-range is very good, and his falsetto is extraordinary) since 2017 has grown less austere through the subsequent releases of the double album græ (2020) and now Blackalachia, an audacious project rooted in the Ghanaian American performer's current home in the Blue Ridge Mountains near Asheville, North Carolina. Here, Sumney filmed himself and his band in concert, without audience, in a mountain meadow.Sumney's Bandcamp page describes him as a “singer, writer and multidisciplinary artist” (2022). For once, “multidisciplinary” may understate an artist's talents and ambition. In live performance and music video, Sumney incorporates sophisticated moves from film, dance, theater, couture, and other arts into an indie rock Gesamtkunstwerk that, in aspiration and breadth, recalls projects by such multifaceted artists as Janelle Monáe, Trent Reznor, and David Bowie, for whom the term “musician” is convenient but limiting. The concert film thrills not only musically, but cinematically as well. Sumney is a gifted director exploiting the possibilities of setting (a hilltop meadow in the Blue Ridge); cinematography (close-ups; wide shots; overhead tracking; and lighting that, in scenes filmed at night, turns Sumney's dark skin blue); set design (the concert occurs on meadow and mountain, on a stage that is relatively spartan but for strikingly organic displays of vegetation); and costume (which includes nudity—Sumney's body, an integral element of the nature photograph illustrating the cover of græ, is deployed for its sculptural drama here as well).Like so much art of the last two years, Blackalachia is born of and reflects on isolation, a leitmotif in Sumney's work. Isolation also motivated his artistically revelatory migration to Asheville from his erstwhile home in southern California where he had early on mastered a “hip Los Angeles take on navel-gazing boho blackness” (King 2017). Sumney “found, back in L.A., that the din of the city wasn't conducive to writing. He would make solo trips down to the Blue R","PeriodicalId":93112,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Appalachian studies","volume":"25 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136204213","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"The Deathscape of Settler Colonialism: Remembrance and Erasure through Cemeteries and Graveyards in the Upper Monongahela Valley","authors":"Travis D. Stimeling, Mary L. Linscheid","doi":"10.5406/23288612.29.1.03","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/23288612.29.1.03","url":null,"abstract":"\u0000 This article focuses on several cemeteries and graveyards in the upper Monongahela Valley of West Virginia, stretching from the confluence of the West Fork and Tygart Valley Rivers near Fairmont and extending to the confluence of the Monongahela and Cheat Rivers at Point Marion, Pennsylvania, just across the West Virginia-Pennsylvania state line. The authors conducted a mapping project of cemeteries and religious centers from December 2019 until July 2020, focusing on burial grounds that were accessible by automobile. Documenting grave markers, common surnames, and flora on graves or in the cemetery more generally, the authors noticed patterns of flora—particularly the presence of yucca and red cedar—that were closely associated with European settler-colonists and their descendants but that have documented connections to Indigenous and Black burial traditions. Noting that Black and Indigenous burial sites are largely hidden from public view in this region, the authors consider the ways that plant life in cemeteries might shed new light on how settler-colonialism shapes understandings of Appalachian death and burial practices and, in turn, Appalachian history and culture.","PeriodicalId":93112,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Appalachian studies","volume":"108 1","pages":""},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-04-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"86210718","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}