Quick hits: Defining rural; WD-40 secret society; electric vehicle stations keep growing; a mental health hotline for teens, staffed by teens

What is rural? A recently recorded webinar addresses that question and adds context. "In 2025, many agencies across the federal government released new data allowing users to understand how rural populations and areas are changing. This webinar will provide a brief history of rural population over time and review how the term 'rural' is defined," reports the Rural Health Information Hub. "Changes to rural areas, as identified by Federal Office of Rural Health Policy (FORHP), with their most recent September 2025 data release, will be highlighted." Find session handouts here, and the audio version here. The recorded YouTube discussion is shared above. 

Carmel-by-the-Sea coastline (Wikipedia photo)

Whimsical or fantastic, home addresses in Carmel-by-the-Sea, California, had a breezy flair, free of physical address numbers, but that's about to change. "For 109 years, residents have used directional descriptors. . . . such as Sea Castle, Nut House and A Turn of Fraise," reports Hailey Branson-Potts of the Los Angeles Times. "This spring, every government building, business and house in the town of 3,200 people will be assigned a number." Many residents have long resisted the move, but "complaints about missed packages and mail-order medications, as well as trouble setting up banking accounts and utilities, kept piling up."

WD-40 can remove chewing gum
from all kinds of surfaces.

Freemasons and the Knights Templar aren't the only ones with secret societies: WD-40, the world's most famous lubricant, has one, too. The company's current CEO, Steve Brass, was at the helm for nearly 30 years before he was allowed to join the ultra-secret club, which gave him access to the "undisclosed Bank of America location" where the WD-40's handwritten formula is kept, reports Jennifer Williams of The Wall Street Journal. The formula has "only left a bank vault three times in the past 30 years." WD-40 is 70 years old and has been used "for everything from loosening bolts to coaxing a boa constrictor out of a car engine compartment and removing gum from turtle shells."

Zoom. Zoom. Zoom. It could be the sound of a Mazda, or the sound of EV charging stations popping up across the U.S., despite recent efforts to depress EV sales. "The U.S. added a record number of public electric-vehicle fast chargers last year, keeping up with demand from growing number of EV owners," reports Jeff St. John of Canary Media. "The Trump administration pushed Republicans in Congress to cancel Biden-era EV tax credits and revoke states’ rights to set clean-car mandates" but that hasn't put the brakes on charging station builds and consumer use. Data analytics firm Paren found that "new chargers are working more reliably and being used more heavily than ever — a sign the country is matching charging supply to demand." 

Approximately 100 teen volunteers log more than 10,000 contacts a year from youth around the world. (Teen Line photo via Reasons to be Cheerful)

When teens need someone to talk to about life problems, sometimes the best listener is another teen. Since 1980, the Center for the Study of Young People in Groups in California has supported a free teen hotline that connects trained teens with peers for nonjudgmental listening. Michaela Haas for Reasons to be Cheerful reports, "Approximately 40% of U.S. high-school students report persistent sadness or hopelessness, and suicide remains the second leading cause of death for youth ages 10 to 24. . . .For the teens who undergo rigorous training to become hotline volunteers, the experience can be "transformative." Read about the full project and its impact here. 

Pew Research graph, from survey of U.S. adults 
conducted Nov. 17-30, 202

The good, the bad and the ugly: That's what the majority of Americans say we need to be sharing about U.S. history, according to a recent Pew Research Center survey. Andy Cerda of the Pew Research Center reports, "Majorities in both parties say it’s important to talk about both America’s successes and its failures. . . .66% of U.S. adults say it is extremely or very important to publicly discuss the country’s historical successes and strengths and 66% say the same about discussing the country’s historical failures and flaws."

Debunking rural myths and misunderstandings

Photo by John Warg, Unsplash

Rural America makes up most of the United States’ land area and is a significant contributor to its economy. “Yet, in a nation with a mostly urban population, the challenges faced by rural people and places are often overlooked or misunderstood,” Tim Slack reported for GROW magazine.

Slack debunked five myths about rural areas that are pervasive among non-rural Americans.

Myth 1: In the context of urbanization, rural America is fading away due to population loss. “Paradoxically, the very definition of ‘rural’ puts limits on growth,” Slack wrote. Many rural areas are experiencing growth, however as the population gets bigger, those areas become reclassified as urban.

Myth 2: Rural is synonymous with farming. 
“Agriculture does constitute a greater share of employment in rural areas compared to urban areas,” Slack reported. But agriculture makes up only around 5% of employment in rural counties. Manufacturing is another major industry in rural areas. 

Myth 3: Rural America is not racially diverse. 
“In 2020, about one in four people (24%) living in rural America were non-White, with Hispanic (9%) and Black (8%) people representing the two largest groups,” Slack wrote. Indigenous people also live in rural areas.

Myth 4: Rural America is healthier. 
“Rural working-age mortality rates are higher for cancer, heart disease, Covid-19, transport accidents, suicide, alcohol misuse, diabetes, stroke, and problems related to or aggravated by pregnancy,” Slack reported.

Myth 5: A “rural revolt” propelled the presidential elections of Donald Trump. 
“While Trump has performed well with rural voters, doing so is consistent with a 50-year trend,” Slack wrote. Meanwhile, the drop in voter turnout happened in big cities with Kamala Harris receiving “roughly 8 million fewer votes than Joe Biden had four years before.”

Opinion: Homesteading frugality is one way to make life sweeter and less complicated

A frugal life has fewer decisions and offers more peace.
(Frugalwoods photo)

Learning from Americans who live as homesteaders is one way to embrace —and even relish — living frugally.

"It's uncommon to hear someone espouse the virtues of frugality for frugality’s sake," writes Elizabeth Willard Thames for Frugalwoods, a financial newsletter. "Frugality gets a horrendous rap, primarily from those who peddle the pricey products we’re lured to believe will equal the good life. I didn’t realize at the time that my frugality would become a destination and an enriching element all its own."

Thames shares 19 reasons why frugality can make life better. A few of her homesteading ideas and habits are below.

Honoring your priorities is what frugality is all about. A successful frugal budget allocates money "only on the most important things, and a happy frugal person only allocates their time to their highest priorities," Thames explains. "I know that my time and money are both limited, so why fritter either away on stuff that doesn’t bring me happiness?"

Frugality creates a life filled with learning. Thames writes, "By embracing the art of DIY, we’re never at a loss for what to do with our time. If it’s a sunny day, we’re out in the garden or hiking. Rainy? We’re inside writing, baking, reading."

Frugal people become more creative. Thames notes, "We innovate, we experiment, and we do it ourselves. We devise our own food, our own entertainment, our own gifts, our own way to live."

Living frugally means making fewer decisions. Thames notes, "Research has proven that the glut of choices we face in making decisions in our modern economy do not, in fact, make us happier."

Keeping things simple can help build community. "Frugality encourages a reliance on one another, a sharing of skills, of time, and of stuff," Thames adds. "The frugal life is an interconnected life where you acknowledge that you need help and have gifts to offer."

More than anything else, "frugality gives you options. Or, more precisely: frugality gives you a level of financial stability that affords you options," Thames explains. "When you’re not in debt and you’re not living paycheck-to-paycheck, you are able to make decisions based on what you want to do with your life, not what you have to do."

Quick hits: More bacon; thriving town-owned grocery store; shocking fertilizer prices; drones for rural duties?

Five-month-old pigs from the latest breeding line Smithfield 
has developed. (Smithfield Foods photo via WSJ)

Just like lots of people, pork companies would like more bacon. For pigs to produce more bacon, they need bigger bellies, a trait pork industry breeders have been developing for years. "Today, slaughtered hogs weigh about 285 pounds on average, a 30-pound increase since the late 1990s," reports Patrick Thomas of The Wall Street Journal. "The increase in hog weight coincided with the explosion in popularity of bacon as more than just a breakfast item." With bacon in demand and razor-thin profit margins, the pork industry is using breeding programs to "build a better pig." 

St. Paul, Kansas, hadn't had a local grocery store for more than two decades, but in 2005, the town's new mayor challenged his community to use municipal support to plan and build a grocery store. St. Paul residents embraced the challenge and the St. Paul Area Community Development Corporation stepped in to help with planning and financial legwork, reports Kansas State University. In 2008, the St. Paul Supermarket opened, and it continues to thrive as a town-supported grocery store. Its motto is "the friendly store." Read its success blueprint here.

Fertilizer costs are high in the currency of corn. (Krista Swanson, National Corn Growers Association )

With alarmingly high fertilizer costs and falling commodity prices, U.S. farmers are grappling with how to stay afloat in today's market. "Farmers are in the middle of calling input suppliers to get quotes for fall fertilizer, and the prices are shocking," reports Tyne Morgan of Farm Journal. "The corn price to fertilizer price ratio on inputs such as phosphate is now the highest on record, and as corn prices continue to slide, it’s creating financial hurt on farmers. . . . An unnamed farmer asked U.S. Farm Report, 'How are we going to survive at these prices?'" 

After severe storms damaged crops and farming equipment across Nebraska, the state used drones to help mitigate the aftermath. "Using drones to help with disaster response shows the role they now play in the state’s economy, after years of investment and research from the state government," reports Chris Teale of Route Fifty. "Officials in the state are looking at ways drones can be used, especially to help those in rural areas. Delivery of food, medical supplies and other resources is one use case receiving a lot of attention."

A Maine roadway.
(C. Banks photo)

Among all the states, Maine remains one of the most rural and wild. "Greater Portland, Lewiston, Auburn, Bangor, and other populous areas make up just a small slice of Maine’s pie," writes Chris Sedenka in his opinion for WBLM radio in Portland, Maine. "It’s fascinating just how much of the state remains truly remote and untouched. . . . We still have territories named T2R9, you’re not going to find that in every state. . . . According to the data, Maine’s rural population makes up 61.5% of the total. That is an absolutely huge number. . . .The majority of the state is basically just pine trees and wildlife."

Living a long life could partially depend on geography. Some counties just seem to support populations who keep on keeping on. 

The map above shows which U.S. counties have an overall life expectancy above 80 years.
(Map via Brilliant Maps)

'Hub City' earned its moniker from railroad days, but it's still a place where people from all walks of life come together

‘All Are Welcome’ banner on Bethlehem’s 
exterior. (Photo by Betsy Froiland, The Yonder)

Like spokes on a wheel, nine railroad lines used to converge in Aberdeen, South Dakota —a small rural town that railroads transformed into "Hub City." And while Aberdeen's moniker was earned in the early 1900s, much of the town's reputation as a physical and social hub remains. Betsy Froiland for The Daily Yonder writes, "Many of those railways are gone. But the nickname and the identity endure."

Today's Aberdeen is different in many ways, but it's still a "place where people with different backgrounds, political leanings, and personal identities come together," Froiland writes. Hub City still offers community spaces where its residents and visitors can feel welcome, no matter their differences.

"One such space is Bethlehem Lutheran Church," Froiland writes. "The church itself is a hub of activity, discussion, and community for people from all walks of life. . . . It's politically diverse. While the majority [of members] supported Donald Trump in 2024, 37.5% of its electorate voted for other candidates. People of all political leanings share pews in worship."

The Rev. Jeff Whillock is Bethlehem's lead pastor, who takes an open view to discussing things that can divide people. Froiland writes, "Instead of shying away from political topics at church. . . Whillock takes these conversations on, thoughtfully and methodically." He told Froiland, "I’m continually committed to being a pastor with people that I disagree with."

Like a track that keeps a train moving, part of what has kept Bethlehem alive and growing is "the congregation’s shared understandings of faith and nature to relay a powerful message: all are welcome at Bethlehem," Froiland explains. "Perhaps in part due to the church’s work to connect across differences, Bethlehem is thriving."

Some evenings at Bethlehem include a meal before the religious service. Members and visitors share a meal, with some staying for the service, but some head home after the meal. "In many ways, Bethlehem is a hub of its own. A hub where people from all walks of life can share a meal together," Froiland adds. "A hub where people with different political views can speak a common language."

2025 Best in Rural Writing Contest is taking submissions now through Sept. 15

It's time for authors to rev up their imaginations, seize their writing tools, and prepare to transport their readers to a story of rural making.

The Milk House and The Daily Yonder have opened submissions for their 2025 Best in Rural Writing Contest and invite authors from anywhere to enter their short stories or essays.

Authors can submit fiction or nonfiction stories limited to 7,000 words for $10 each. 

Deadline is Sept. 15. Read all the details and submit here. 

The overall winner of the Best in Rural Writing Contest will receive $500, and the second-place author will receive $200. 

Some fine print: Contest submissions may be previously published (as long as it was not published before January 2024), and will also be read within 2 to 3 months of submitting with an eye toward publication on the site, as well as the forthcoming "2026 Best in Rural Writing" print anthology. 

Bit of guidance: Submissions should, in some way, be connected to "the rural.” The manner and extent to which this is done is open to the author and not necessarily limited to rural characters or rural topics.

Opinion: Scholars have been asking the wrong question about what's 'wrong' with rural voters

What's wrong with American rural voters? Maybe the question is the problem, reports Emma Goldberg for The New York Times.

Kristin Lunz Trujillo

Kristin Lunz Trujillo grew up on her family's farm in rural Minnesota, and although her parents did go to college, they encouraged her to attend. During Trujillo's undergraduate years, she experienced new and somewhat confusing culture shocks. Goldberg explains, "She was dismayed when she checked out the farm club and learned that its members wanted to brew kombucha, not milk cows." During an art class, when the teacher "asked students which famous paintings they’d seen in person, Trujillo stayed quiet. She had never been to an art museum."

As Trujillo headed into graduate school, her earlier "sense of cultural alienation molded her research," Goldberg reports. As a political scientist, she has sought to understand what rural identity is and how it defines political choices. Recently, Trujillo was reading a "best-selling book that cited her research to explore those questions. But this recognition didn’t bring the thrill she might have expected."

Penguin RH photo

Trujillo was reading White Rural Rage by journalist Paul Waldman and political scientist Tom Schaller. The book "is an unsparing assessment of small-town America," Goldberg explains. "Rural residents, the authors argued, are more likely than city dwellers to excuse political violence, and they pose a threat to American democracy." Trujillo told Goldberg her thoughts on Waldman and Schaller's work, "It seemed to be more of a hit piece on rural America."

In her opinion for Newsweek, Trujillo said the book was "'a prime example of how intellectuals sow distrust by villainizing people unlike them,'" Goldberg reports. "This latest effort [by Waldman and Schaller] provoked a response that was swift and scathing and revealed something new: the existence of a tight-knit group of scholars who are clamoring for more empathetic political analyses of rural Americans."

Even though some academics were raised in rural America, as scholars, their identity and questions can drift away from the experience. Nick Jacobs, a political scientist at Colby College and co-author of The Rural Voter, told Goldberg, "We contribute to the further denigration of expertise when we say, ‘This is what the experts say about these rubes and bumpkins.' Who’s going to trust the experts when that’s what the experts have to say about you?”

Overall, rural Americans "see free trade and the rise of new technologies as hurting their communities while helping cities prosper, Jacobs said. . . . . The resentment they felt toward urbanites didn’t come out of nowhere," Goldberg writes. "Jacobs differentiated that resentment from the idea of 'rural rage.' . . . And while resentment, like rage, doesn’t easily dissolve, he suggests that trying to understand where it comes from could start to build a bridge over that ever-widening urban-rural divide."

Opinion: 'Rural rage' book gets most things wrong but pinpoints how political strength can help rural 'plight' be seen

Bradyn Strawser

Writer Bradyn Strawser discusses the good, the bad and the ugly roots of 'rural rage' and how he interprets some national research on the topic. An edited version of some of his thoughts is below.

"In the months leading up to the 2020 presidential election, the Democratic Party claimed that their platform was going to be one of unity. They said it was time to turn the page on the toxicity that had defined American political discourse since that fateful moment when Donald Trump descended on the escalator in 2015, initiating his first presidential campaign," Strawser explains. "What went wrong? A good place to begin answering this question might be White Rural Rage.

"The subtitle, The Threat to American Democracy, makes the anti-rural sentiments of authors Tom Schaller, a professor of political science at the University of Maryland, and Paul Waldman, a former op-ed writer for the Washington Post, quite clear," Strawser adds. Schaller and Waldman spend a lot of words "pointing out that countless other demographics suffer more than rural whites. It seems the authors are not interested in the plight of rural America."

One of Schaller and Waldman's biggest questions was: Why did rural Americans vote so enthusiastically for Trump? "They conclude it is because Trump tapped into all the worst instincts of rural Americans," Strawser adds. "But this is not why Trump resonated with so many of my neighbors and loved ones. He resonated with them because despite all the inflated political power Schaller and Waldman claim rural America has. . . .Trump was the first president in many years that seemed to listen [to] and care."

Some of rural rage stems from being politically ignored. "Countless rural communities suffered from loss of industry, lack of education, and military intervention in foreign lands," Strawser explains. "Rural Americans have felt abandoned as both parties voted in trade deals like NAFTA and promoted immigration policies that acquiesced to large corporations’ demands for new sources of cheap labor, a push which was supported by many labor unions."

Part of why rural Americans feel rage is because they have counted their losses and started asking questions. "They want to know why they are not entitled to a quality education," Strawser writes. "Why should they support politicians who send their jobs overseas and then receive money from the very corporations that laid off their employees? . . . Trump seemed to provide answers to these questions. His pro-school choice stance and promotion of opportunity zones that used tax incentives to increase investment in depressed census tracts. . . resonated with rural people."

While Schaller and Waldman take their keen minds and come to some harsh and misguided conclusions, "they do a good job at pointing out problems facing rural America, perhaps none more serious than the opioid crisis that is poisoning rural Americans every day," Strawser writes. "I think they are correct about one [other] thing: it is time for rural Americans to wield their political power to finally get policies that are in their interest. It’s time that they demand their plight be heard."

Bradyn Strawser studied political science and history at Grove City College, Penn. To read Strawser's full essay, click here.

Do you have a rural story to tell? Here's your chance to yarn for glory, publication and maybe some money.

The Milk House and The Daily Yonder are accepting submissions for their 2024 Best in Rural writing contest and invite authors from across the globe to enter their short stories or essays.

Entries are $5 each and all contestants will receive a code entitling them to $10 off all online writing classes offered by The Milk House. Submission deadline is Sept. 30.

The contest judge will first announce 10 shortlisted entries whose authors may elect to have their submission published by The Milk House in 2025. Afterward, the judge will select the best short story and best essay.

Last year's shortlisted tales included authors from the United States, Canada, Scotland, Ireland and Northern Ireland. The overall winner of the Best in Rural Writing Contest will receive $500, and the runner-up $200. The winner will be announced later this year.

Some fine print: The work must be original and unpublished. By submitting, the author is agreeing to the possibility of The Milk House or The Daily Yonder publishing or promoting the submission if it is selected in the top two. After publication, all rights revert to the author.

Bit of guidance: Submissions should, in some way, be connected to 'the rural.' The manner and extent to which this is done is open to the author and not necessarily limited to rural characters or rural topics.

Rich rural reporting ditches the cliches and dives into 'rural stories that reflect the full range of rural experience'

Carlson, left, interviews an artist about using eucalyptus
bark for screen printing. (Photo by Joel Cohen via SEJ)

Rural places aren't cliche or boring and reporting on them shouldn't be either. If you're a rural reporter, you already know that part, but what can journalists from all walks of life do to make the diversity of rural Americans come to life for non-rural readers?

First off, ditch the political stereotypes, writes Claire Carlson for the Society of Environmental Journalists. She writes that rural voters are often blamed for "today’s particular brand of right-wing extremism, as embodied by Donald Trump. . . Yet data shows that arrestees from the Jan. 6, 2021, insurrection . . . were no more likely to be from a rural area than an urban or suburban location."

Rural folk aren't one-dimensional white Republican-leaning voters any more than city folk are all mindless, liberal Democrats. For reporters who want to get past the cliches, Carlson suggests, "We can start by talking to rural residents about the issues they’re facing rather than only going to the academics and professionals. . . . If you don’t know how to make those local connections, ask your expert sources for suggestions on who from the community you should talk to."

If you want to explore rural life, reporters can "seek out and tell rural stories that reflect the full range of rural experience," Carlson explains. "East Palestine, Ohio, is a good example of this. The 2023 train derailment that spilled hazardous chemicals in this community inundated national headlines. . . . The town became known for its tragedy. But what was this place before a train derailment defined it? None of the stories I read ever told that part of the story." Find that angle. 

"Good and interesting things happen in rural places just as often as in urban ones," Carlson adds. "It’s up to us to tell those stories, too, if only to offer people an understanding of rural America that reflects the nuance and diversity that has always been there."

A Minnesota town goes 'green' for rural independence and to save residents money; 'It was never about climate.'

Wind turbines help Morris residents save money on
their electrical bills. (Photo by Bastian Pudill, Unsplash)

When economic vision was paired with resource conservation in Morris, Minn., the small town accidentally went "green." Its success serves as a model for other rural places.

Seen from a distance, the Morris landscape is dotted with wind turbines, which create "cheap electricity. . .providing energy to make carbon-neutral fertilizer. Cows graze next to solar panels that provide them with shade," reports Edward Humes of The Wall Street Journal. "A county-wide compost operation disposes of food and agricultural waste, electric buses take kids to school, the public library relies on geothermal heating and even a city-owned liquor store has rooftop solar panels."

The small Stevens County town boasts 5,206 citizens and skews Republican. In establishing their green mecca, Morris residents focused on "rural self-sufficiency. . . saving tax dollars and eliminating costly inefficiency and waste," Humes adds. "When Troy Goodnough, the director of sustainability at the local campus of the University of Minnesota, arrived more than 15 years ago and asked how he could help address those economic concerns, a partnership emerged that has made Morris one of the most sustainable farm towns in America — even though that was never the town’s goal."

Blaine Hill, the recently retired city manager, told Humes, "We never made it about climate. We just did it because it makes sense. And the more we did, the more we wanted to do.” Humes reports, "The result has been dubbed 'the Morris Model' by its participants: the town, the school district, Stevens County and the campus of 1,500 students. They are making their data and blueprints available to other communities interested in trying something similar."

Location of Stevens County
(Wikipedia map)

The town's model had the humblest of beginnings -- garbage. "For generations, farm and food waste had gone to the dump. In 2012, a group of students at the university launched a for-profit compost operation so successful that it soon expanded beyond the campus to accept drop-offs county-wide," Humes explains. "Eventually the students donated the whole operation to a grateful Stevens County. From the farmers’ perspective, those 'kids next door' helped them turn trash into cash."

With an independent spirit as their guide, the town's practical efforts transformed waste into savings and produced a domino effect of residential participation. "By 2018, the Morris Model had 100 projects underway," Humes reports. "It set out to end the landfilling of waste by 2025 and to produce 80% of the county’s energy and reduce energy consumption by 30% by 2030. . . . The common thread in these projects is that they have been promoted as a way to cut waste and costs and to create local independence — which has helped them win support in states both red and blue."

Opinion: Virginia county resists growth to maintain its rural character and countryside

Civil War monuments at Culpeper National Cemetery
(National Cemetery Administration photo)

As urban sprawl and industrial developments eat up Virginia countryside, Rappahannock County turns against the tide to remain a quiet, rural area with a protected "view shed," writes Dana Milbank in his opinion piece for The Washington Post.

Culpeper National Cemetery sits on a corner of land in Culpepper, Virginia, and there you will find "the final resting place for about 1,300 Union soldiers killed in the Civil War. Stone monuments honor regiments from Maine, Massachusetts, New York, Ohio and Pennsylvania that fought the battles of Cedar Mountain, Brandy Station and others nearby," Milbank explains. "But these hallowed grounds are about to become a monument to something else: the destruction of the American countryside.

"Look east from the cemetery, to an adjacent field where cattle graze, birds sing and a brook babbles: This will become a 116-acre data center housing 2.2 million square feet of massive structures with concrete walls up to 70 feet high. Look to the south from the cemetery at another green field: Here will rise the electrical substation powering the 600-megawatt monster."

Rappahannock County, Va.
(Wikipedia map)

While other Virginia counties take the "easy dollars" developers are waving, Rappahannock County has a different goal: To remain a part of the state's "dead zone," Milbank writes. "Its board of supervisors has for years rejected almost all development, and its population hasn’t grown at all. With 7,348 residents in the 2020 census, Rappahannock has roughly the same population it had in 2000 — and in 1920, for that matter. Rappahannock fends off development with its 25-acre minimum zoning requirement."

Keir Whitson, vice chairman of the board of supervisors, told Milbank, "I don’t even want to talk about growth. It’s not a word that should be in our active vocabulary." Milbank adds, "Whitson even torpedoed a local philanthropist’s plan to build three dozen affordable housing units in the town of Washington, Va., the county seat. He forced the already modest development to reduce its size to 18 apartments and townhouses. . . . It was a tough decision to reject what was, for the county, a gift of free affordable housing. It followed an easier decision to reject a 53-unit rental property on the approach to Shenandoah National Park."

Rappahannock's refusal of development dollars keeps the county on a meager budget, but residents are willing to bear that burden instead of managing the demands of growth. "While Culpeper and other nearby counties surrender to development, tiny Rappahannock has built a firewall to preserve its rural way of life," Millbank writes. "Similar tensions between development and rural character are playing out across the country. . . . Rappahannock has a plan: no development."

Rappahannock residents seem "content to live in a place with few amenities, few services and few jobs if it means preserving their unhurried rural life, their tightknit community, their panoramic views and their abundant wildlife."

Whitson told Milbank, “People say to me, pretty consistently, ‘Come on, buddy, get over it. You know Rappahannock County’s got to change. I’m like, ‘No, it doesn’t.’ I understand change is inevitable, but in Rappahannock County, change can be tiny, tiny change.” Milbank writes, "To save our countryside, we’re going to need a lot more such leaders with the courage to think small."

Today at 1 p.m., E.T.: Exploring and celebrating rural America with The Rural Assembly's "Rural Everywhere" event

Amid election tensions, negative news and an inflationary economy, it can be important to focus on the good things America has going — especially in rural places.

To that end, The Rural Assembly is hosting a free virtual gathering, Rural Assembly Everywhere 2024: Nurturing Thriving Communities, on Thursday, Aug. 1, from 1 to 3 p.m., E.T. While the session is open to anyone, it is specially designed for rural advocates and the rural-curious listeners and leaders.

To register, click here.

The event will unpack the essence of rural life and examine how rural people can enrich their communities. 

To help others join the conversation, The Rural Assembly is seeking rural stories or video submissions that showcase the nurturing and thriving spirit within rural individuals, communities or organizations. The Assembly also will host a community chat with questions and discussions before the event.

For more information on submissions or joining the conversation, click here.

Norman Lear's success removed rural America from mainstream TV; 'All in the Family' marked the end of an era

Photo via The Daily Yonder

Rural American life once played center stage for network TV shows, but as the 1960s drew to a close, a new type of comedy -- built around cities and more urban characters -- took rural TV's place at the top, reports Jeffery H. Bloodworth of The Daily Yonder. "Fifty-three years ago, Norman Lear's breakout hit, "All in the Family," aired on CBS. It touched an immediate nerve. An instant hit, the program became the nation's most-watched television show of its era. But Lear's legacy is more complicated for rural Americans. His 1971 rise signaled the demise of rural America on network television."

Lear's "All in the Family" used more topical humor that poked fun at the country's post-1960s culture wars. Lear followed up his 1971 success with shows like "Good Times," "The Jeffersons," and "Sanford and Son," all of which "were defined by their urban settings, realism, and topical humor," Bloodworth writes. Rural-themed shows such as "Hee Haw" and "Green Acres" were canceled in the" 'rural purge'. . . . Norman Lear marked the end of an era."

In the 1960s, U.S. cities grew exponentially, as did the popularity of rural TV comedy. Explaining why country humor was so popular, Sara K. Eskridge, a historian who authored Rube Tube: CBS and Rural Comedy in the Sixties, told Bloodworth, "I think they provided a sense of soothing. They were set in contemporary times. But they were focused on friendships. You don't see conflict. . . . Nostalgia works great for this. The future was in the city, and when people think 'rural,' they think of the past."

Some of the best rural discourse happens 'on the front porch.' Reimagine Rural series features book authors.

This week Tony Pipa from Reimagine Rural and Brent Orrell of the American Enterprise Institute kicked off their new "on the front porch" conversations with authors of recent books on rural America.

The first discussion was with Nick Jacobs of Colby College, whose recent book with Dan Shea, The Rural Voter: The Politics of Place and the Disuniting of America, uses comprehensive data to examine how the deep sense of civic pride among rural citizens collides with increasingly nationalized policy and political concerns. Watch the YouTube recording here.

Future "Front Porch" sessions are on:

• Thursday, February 8, 2 p.m. ET with Kathryn Edin and Timothy Nelson, authors of The Injustice of Place: Uncovering the Legacy of Poverty in America with Luke Shaefer, in-person & online at Brookings.
• Thursday, April 4, at 10 a.m. ET with Elizabeth Currid-Halkett, author of The Overlooked Americans: The Resilience of our Rural Towns and What it Means for our Country, in-person & online. Location TBA.

To hear more about struggles and triumphs in rural America, give Brookings' podcast, "Reimagine Rural" a listen. The podcast features Pipa traveling through rural America -- from Shamokin, Pennslyvania, to Thomas and Davis, West Virginia, and across to Globe, Arizona. Pipa explores small-town challenges with residents who are living it. Throughout these conversations, Pipa examines the ways rural residents are reinventing their towns.

The Ozarks 'convey a feeling of seclusion' but have a fascinating history and culture

The church in Rader, Missouri, still operates.
(Photo by Kaitlyn McConnell via The Daily Yonder)

No matter what state or region you call home, there's a name for you. If you're from Connecticut, you're a Connecticuter or a Nutmegger. If you herald from the West, you might be labeled a Westerner or a Cowboy. But what if you're from the Ozarks? They're called Ozarkers, and if you haven't rubbed elbows with an Ozarker, today's your lucky day.

The Daily Yonder has launched a new monthly column of featuring the life and culture of the "largely rural uplands region located predominantly in northern Arkansas and southern Missouri." Writer Kaitlyn McConnell, who was raised on her family's farm in rural Missouri, is a guide to the region she has spent years sharing on her website, Ozarks Alive. A condensed version is shared here.

"With the twist of an old metal doorknob, let me show you the Ozarks. . . . It's found in the basement of a country church built of stone, one of few remnants left of a little town called Rader in rural southwest Missouri. Founded in the 1870s by brothers with dozens of kids who begat thousands of descendants, it was once a bustling little place.

"Things have changed in the 150 years since. . . . Today, so few people are in town that the community doesn't even show up in the 2020 U.S. Census records.

"Yet, as it does in rural areas, the community still bubbles up. And in Rader, it's at that stone church, which was built with local rocks – a common Ozarkian style of construction – in 1936 after the previous wooden building was destroyed in a tornado. Ever since generations of local women have regularly taken needles in hand and simultaneously created quilts and community.

"The region can be described by geographical lines (which encompass parts of Arkansas, Illinois, Kansas, Missouri, and Oklahoma) and cultural confines, which focus on northwest Arkansas, southwest Missouri, and a sliver of Oklahoma.

"If we’re going with the cultural boundaries – the definition I use – significant numbers of white U.S. citizens began arriving in the first decade of the nineteenth century. Small communities, some tied to shared heritage, sprang up and brought people together in the largely undeveloped expanse.

"At some points, their movement was alongside the presence of Native Americans. The tribe indigenous to the Ozarks was the Osage, but a long list of others — including Cherokee, Shawnee, Delaware, and Kickapoo — inhabited the region at various times. They were ultimately forced to leave by the 1830s due to pressure from white settlers. . . . Signs marking the Trail of Tears crossings are another visual reminder of the forced, and often deadly, journey made by thousands of Native Americans from the eastern United States to Indian Territory.

"The Ozark Mountains convey a feeling of seclusion. More than a century ago, that vibe came through The Shepherd of the Hills, a phenomenally successful novel that told the story of local hill folks and their Arcadian paradise. . . . Visitors still come for the area’s scenic beauty presented in the famed novel’s pages."

Op-ed argues that the popular narrative about rural Californians is false; in fact, rural communities are doing well

Lounging dairy cows in Kern County (Photo by Brian van der Brug, L.A. Times)

Many rural Californians don't fit the current narrative of conservative, angry Americans who feel left behind. Elizabeth Currid-Halkett and Marley Randazzo encourage readers to take a closer look at how rural is socially and politically defined and what that might mean more broadly for rural America in their Op-Ed for the Los Angeles Times, "Rural California isn't what you think it is."

A popular rural narrative, they contend, is that rural Californians voted for Trump in 2020, because "they are poor, angry and feel left behind by the political establishment and educated urban elites." But, scrutiny dispelled much of this storyline. "In fact, many rural areas in California are doing well economically. Also, their vote for Trump is misunderstood. With Trump again a viable presidential contender, politicians, policymakers and the public should shift their lens upon rural areas."

A more "nuanced" approach that reconsiders what many thought was rural California or even rural America would bring more understanding. "Rather than dismissing rural Americans and assuming their politics, we ought to take the time to understand these complex communities. Our country's future depends on it," Currid-Halkett and Randazzo write.

They note researchers and government policy writers use dozens of ways to define rural; however, "most folks think of places beyond the city limits, layered with farms, dirt roads and humble main streets," but in California, that's not the case. "Much of Fresno County may appear to Angelenos as rural with its expansive farmland. However, Fresno has an urban population of about 900,000, meaning the county qualifies as a medium-sized metropolitan area according to Department of Agriculture standards."

Nor does living in rural California mean barely scraping by. "Our analysis of recent census data reveals that rural Californians are substantially more likely than their urban counterparts to own their own home and be employed," Currid-Halkett and Randazzo add. "Rural California's unemployment rate is 3% compared with 4.2% for metro areas. Against the backdrop of a housing crisis, homeownership in rural California is more than 70%, while just 55% for our cities."

Political opinions about rural residents are also riddled with misconceptions. "Although Trump won 10 of California's 13 rural counties in 2020, the data show that some rural margins were razor thin," they note. "Over the past five years, one of us spoke to dozens of Americans, finding that not only are rural Americans not angry at liberal elites living in cities but that they share many of the same values. When asked about democracy, equality, immigration and other important issues of our time, rural Americans were in line with what their urban counterparts expressed. They conveyed, however, a wariness toward being told what they should think and say."

Rural Assembly sets online gathering Wednesday, June 28

The Daily Yonder

Rural Assembly Everywhere, the virtual gathering of the Rural Assembly, will feature conversations with rural leaders and allies, including Anderson Clayton, the youngest state political party leader in the nation.

Clayton, chair of the North Carolina Democratic party, is one of several rural leaders and allies scheduled to be part of the free, virtual event from 1 to 3 p.m. ET Wednesday, June 28.

This year’s Everywhere is focused on rural people who are working toward safer, more connected communities. It is the fourth virtual event for the Rural Assembly, which has been hosting gatherings across the country since 2007.

Rural Assembly Everywhere will be broadcast via the Crowdcast platform. Attendees will be able to connect with one another before and during the broadcast through the event chat.

“Everywhere is the virtual analog to an in-person Rural Assembly,” said Rural Assembly Director Whitney Kimball Coe. “Even in a virtual space, we feel like we can create an experience that inspires and strengthens our connections to one another across Zip codes and culture.”

“The theme of ‘safer, more connected rural communities’ gives us an opportunity to explore how people and places are taking care of each other and affirming the dignity of one another–through arts and culture, policy advocacy, organizing and gathering, big and small acts of care. The stories from Everywhere remind us that rural people and places are extra and ordinary and essential to the future of our nation.”

The event will spotlight other rural voices through video stories and conversations:

• Appalachian author and Kentucky Poet Laureate Silas House in conversation with his friend the Rt. Rev. Brian Lee Cole, bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of East Tennessee. House has written seven novels; his most recent, Lark Ascending, won the 2023 Southern Book Prize and the 2023 Nautilus Book Award. In 2022 he won the Duggins Prize, the nation's largest award for an LGBTQ writer.
• Highlander Center’s Ash-Lee Woodard Henderson and Allyn Maxfield-Steele will talk about the center’s work in the South.
• Sam Schimmel and Jonathan Blair, co-creators of a documentary-media and public-engagement initiative, "American Creed: Citizen Power," a follow-up to the 2018 documentary "American Creed" from Citizen Film – will discuss how they are working to build safer, more connected communities, the barriers they face, and their advice for other young rural community organizers.
• Stories from rural organizations and initiatives, including the Catwalk drag show in Fergus Falls, Minn.; Good Neighbor Missouri, Welcoming America, the Equal Justice Initiative, Main Street America, which helps revitalize older parts of small towns. and StrengthenND, which hekps nonprofits and rural communities in North Dakota.
• Artists Brett Hill, Eliza Blue, Cody & Alex, and Torrey McDowell will share stories and musical performances.

Registration for Everywhere is free. Visit www.ruralassembly.org/everywhere to register.

The Rural Assembly and The Daily Yonder are part of the Center for Rural Strategies.

Quick hits: Health benefits of outdoors; dealing with yard pests and winter blahs; can a state have an official aroma?

   "Yellowstone" cast (Paramount Network photo via IMDb)

Get rural-centric with "Yellowstone." Part Western, part soap opera, it's one of the most-watched shows on TV. It’s also the centerpiece of the growing rural entertainment empire.

The smell of roasting chile peppers is what draws people to parking lots across New Mexico. That sweet, spicy aroma that brings watering mouths and nostalgia for home; so it makes sense that lawmakers are weighing whether to make green chile the state’s official aroma. . . . It all began with a classroom of fifth graders. 

Speaking of veggies, the Rural Mom has some tips for supporting your local farmers' markets. They will be coming soon.

Spending time in nature can be relaxing and rejuvenating. It might even lower a person's rate of hospitalization for Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s and related dementias, a large study showed.

Rendering from Encyclopedia Britannica

The University of Texas hosts an immersive summer Shakespeare program for rural Fayette County, Texas students to experience the Bard's work first hand. Professor Emeritus “Doc” Ayres at UT and his students are the subject of documentary called “Take Pains, Be Perfect,” which celebrates the half-century of performance and connection fostered in this theater barn in the country.

Fie, fie! Unknit those rows of mounded dirt that once were manicured lawn,
And dart not away from my hose and trap, oh, stealthy moles and voles,
To wound my yard so keenly, untamed shrews!
(Our adaptation of lines from Katherina in Act 5, Scene 1 of The Taming of the Shrew; for actual shrews and other yardly pests, read here on how to deal with them)

Head to the conjunction of folk-and-jazz-for-rock-but-pop that meets up at Western Animation Junction. And there you go. Schoolhouse Rock is 50 years old.

Snort. Whinny. Nicker. Neigh. Bray. Squeal. A visit to a horse barn, usually includes some comments from the four-legged creatures who are known to be curious and opinionated. These native and visiting horses weigh in on Lexington, Kentucky, which calls itself "Horse Capital of the World."

Salt. Sand. Pebbles. Cat litter. Yes, it's still snowing in some regions. "In these parts, driveways can break you or make you into a minor god worshiped by UPS and FedEx drivers, beloved of propane delivery personnel, and heavily recruited by rural volunteer fire departments. Here's how to keep on, keeping on as winter continues.

Science explains seasonal affective disorder, which can occur in both winter and summer. Here's why it happens, and how you might treat it.

'We have survived the full body slam,' Iowa editor writes, reviewing what we have endured the past three years

Full body slam with Tom and Jerry (Gif, Tenor)

By Art Cullen, Editor
Storm Lake Times Pilot

What a weird run we’ve been on the past few years with the double-whammy of Covid-19 and Donald Trump.

The aftershocks of deep changes to our lives reverberate still.

The House finally elected a speaker with the 15th ballot on the second anniversary of the Jan. 6 insurrection.

Trump had to call in to the House floor on Kevin McCarthy’s behalf. Images of Trump standing on the veranda at the White House in an orange glow after his release from the hospital with Covid rose to mind. He just stood there, suggesting invincibility yet looking as if he might fall over.

Storm Lake was getting walloped by the pandemic. People were dying every week. The meatpacking plants were ravaged. Walmart ran out of toilet paper overnight. Newell-Fonda won the girls state tournament again, and then that was all she wrote. Some businesses went under. We nearly did. The government came out with the biggest relief program since the Great Depression. Most of us survived because of it.

During this time Steve King, our congressman for 20 years, was unseated in a Republican primary because of his comments on race and culture. JD Scholten, who nearly beat King in 2018, was forced to stage drive-in campaign events at Frank Starr Park, where he spoke into a microphone and diehards in cars tuned in on FM radio. Scholten got walloped by Randy Feenstra, a more polite version of King.

There were those daily Covid briefings where Trump would contradict the medical experts standing next to him as the president talked up his latest snake-oil cure.

You couldn’t go to church. Catholics yearned for Holy Communion. Who would have thought you could not get communion? Michelle Obama made a brief return as First Lady in the absence of one to counsel the nation on having the Covid blues. Doctors here confirmed that they saw an increase in depression. It is depressing sitting at home looking out the window wishing you were anyplace else, doing something.

Relationships changed, or ended. Zooming became a verb. Remote work became a real thing. I, for one, got used to it. I fancy myself living the writer’s life. That’s been a good thing, sort of a dream come true, really. That, and voters told Trump to take his act back to Mar-a-Lago. They chose Biden and cooperation over Trump and violent treason.

Voters liked the infrastructure bill. Senate Republican Leader Mitch McConnell last week shook hands with President Biden over a new bridge to connect Ohio and Kentucky while the House Republicans fought yesterday’s battles. Sen. Joni Ernst was one of a dozen Republicans to vote for protecting gay and interracial marriages, which drew a rebuke from the Pocahontas County Republican Central Committee. There are signs of moderation that made Ernst feel comfortable enough to be sensible.

At one point oil prices went into negative territory when interest rates were at zero. We worried that we couldn’t get paper to print because of huge supply chain kinks. You couldn’t even think about looking at a new car on a lot because they weren’t there. They still aren’t. Newsprint prices are stabilizing. Oil shot up as the economy came back, along with grocery prices. Then interest rates ratcheted up to combat inflation. Meatpackers raised wages significantly over the past five years — from about $16 per hour to start, to nearly $22 per hour starting wage now, plus with better health care benefits.

Restaurants have come back, but dining in is down nearly 20% from pre-pandemic times. Take-out is way up. Inflation is subsiding. Congress did big bipartisan things, like reshoring computer chip making to the USA from Asia. We are beginning to address climate change. Our saber rattling with China over trade is subsiding, and China has trouble all its own coping with a wave of Covid. The insurrection was driven at least in part by the frustration of the pandemic cast on a motif of fear. Many of the participants are thinking about it from jail. Voters called again for moderation in the November midterm election. Democracy holds on as aimless rebels are shunted aside. Trump’s popularity is waning. Costs are coming down as job creation holds up pretty well.

The sun came out clear last Friday. It seemed like we had been living in a cold gray cloud for so long that 24 degrees felt like May. The brave men and women who defended democracy two years ago embraced President Biden as he gave them medals for their valor. Zealotry is not having its finest hour. Supply is finding demand. Iowa has Covid under control as deaths and hospitalizations decline. You would like to think that the fever has broken.