It is hard to define West Virginia in a single phrase. But isn’t that part of the state’s magic, its complexity?
It is a place of rugged mountains and even more rugged people. It is a place where coal-mining built towns, rivers carved history, and generations of families have learned to make do with what they had, and share it anyway. West Virginia is not just a state; it is a state of mind, a deeply rooted identity that does not waiver with the trends or fads.
Ask a hundred West Virginians what makes West Virginia what it is, and you will hear a hundred different answers. Some will say it is the state’s natural beauty. With its rolling hills, deep hollows (pronounced hollers), and winding roads that stretch over ridge after ridge like God’s own patchwork quilt. Some will undoubtedly speak about high school football rivalries. Others will point to our county fairs, our pepperoni rolls, or our unshakable belief about hot dogs.
There are also those who will define West Virginia by its music, from the old-time, fiddle tunes, to the bluegrass harmonies, or the gospel hymns echoing from country churches.
The truth is, all of that is West Virginia. And more.
West Virginia is defined not only by its place on the map, but by the grit in its people. The state was born during the Civil War, a defiant act of independence by those who did not agree with secession. That rebellious streak is still alive. We do not always agree with each other, but we do not like being told what to do, either. There is a stubborn pride here that can seem hardheaded to outsiders, but to us, it is our backbone. It is loyalty. It is conviction.
We are a state that believes in second chances and even sixth chances. We know that addiction and poverty can wrap around a person like barbed wire. However, we also know how to help cut someone free. That is why we volunteer for our community recovery programs, take in our neighbors’ kids, and cook for a funeral dinner even when we are grieving ourselves. West Virginians have their share of struggles, but what defines us is how we carry one another through them.
It is in our blood to show up. We go to our kids’ ball games even when they are riding the pine. We stop to help someone with a flat tire even when we are running late. We still bring covered dishes to the family down the street who just had a baby or lost a loved one. We care, even if we don’t say it out loud.
West Virginia is also about tradition. It is the Memorial Day services across our state where we remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice. It is the family cemetery where we wipe off old gravestones and tell stories we have heard about people who left this world long before we came into it. It is deer season and ramp festivals. It is a church that does not lock its doors, although, unfortunately, this is getting harder to find. It is sitting on the porch with a grandparent, an aunt or uncle who knows all the gossip, all the family history, and all the reasons why that road is still closed.
But we are not stuck in the past. This is a misconception about West Virginia that needs correcting. Yes, we remember our history, but we also adapt. Our kids go to STEM camps and build robots in old coal towns. Our universities conduct cutting-edge medical research. Our artisans open Etsy shops and global businesses from wherever they live from our quaint towns to cabins in the woods. We are constantly evolving, even if the rest of the world does not notice.
There is beauty in our contradictions. We are a red state with deep blue-collar values. We are rural but not naïve. We may not always have much, but we are fiercely generous. We have lost jobs, population, and sometimes hope, but we will never lose our soul.
What makes West Virginia, West Virginia, is the blend of place and people. It’s the view from the overlook on Route 33 near Seneca Rocks, or the fog rising from the New River Gorge at dawn. It is also the waitress in Elkins, Lewisburg, or Wellsburg who knows your coffee order. It is the guy who is working a double shift to pay for his kid’s braces, or the teacher who buys supplies for the children who do not have them using her own paycheck. It is the parade on the many Main Streets across the state, where bands play, young athletes march, and every veteran gets a round of applause.
We are proud of our roots, even if they are tangled. We will joke about ourselves. We may use our own language, largely with regional specificity, but do not let that fool you. We know what we have here, and we are protective of it. We know that even when the rest of the country forgets us, we remember each other.
What makes West Virginia, West Virginia, is not just the scenery or the stories, though both are a large part of the equation. It is the people who stay when it would be easier to leave, and the people who come back when they have had their fill of everywhere else.
It is not always an easy place to live, but once it is in your core, it becomes part of your being. It is a hard place to leave. That is because West Virginia has a hold on the heart. It shapes how you see the world and how you treat the people in it. It reminds you that even in the hardest seasons, there is strength in community and grace in the mountains.
You do not just live in West Virginia. You carry it with you.
And that, more than anything, is what makes West Virginia, West Virginia.
