Take Me Home, Mountain Mama, to the Wild and Wonderful West Virginia!

When I pictured myself on a Spring Break in college, West Virginia was probably the last state that came to mind. I envisioned myself laying on a warm beach, tropical drink in hand, with a bunch of friends, but little did I know I was about to embark on a journey way deeper than the stereotypical college spring break. A few days before I started packing for the trip, I realized aside from being unsure about my packing list, I was also unsure about this trip in general. I was excited to do community service and meet people, but as Sunday started creeping up on me I started wondering if I would like the people I would be forced into spending the next week with or if this experience actually would change my life for the better just as I anticipated it would. Now, sitting here two weeks later writing this blog, I laugh at those fears and insecurities I had in the beginning, because my trip to West Virginia was by far one of the best weeks of my entire life and exceeded my expectations in each and every way. But, even though I could go on all day about the new person I had become by the end of this trip, and the impact we all made on the people of West Virginia, and, of course, each other, I cannot start there, because just like every other good story, I must start from the beginning.

It was Sunday morning, before the sun had even begun to come up and we were standing in front of the Student Center unsuspecting of what the next week of our lives was going to entail. Though we had spent the last five Sundays together through countless conversations and icebreakers, the 12 of us still felt like strangers to one another. Looking back on it now, we were not at all prepared for the twelve hour drive that awaited us or the next life changing six days that would follow. We had finally got on the road and then made our very first bathroom break on Easton Ave at the Dunkin Donuts, five minutes outside of Rutgers University. Our breakfast there would have to carry us on until we reached the infamous DJ's diner right on the outskirts of West Virginia.

After three hours of indulging ourselves in fried foods and spilled milkshakes (and famous West Virginian biscuits with gravy), we had rolled into our destination: West Virginia. It became apparent we were no longer in the north. Riding through the rough terrain on beaten down roads, it was clear where the "wild" of West Virginia came, but we were yet to see anything wonderful aside from a father riding his ATV down the two way highway with his four year old daughter sitting on the handlebars. 

Even though we had been forewarned about the poverty in West Virginia, none of us realized how terrible the circumstances actually were. As we drove along a West Virginia "highway" we saw everything from trailer parks to homes being kept together by just one shingle. We drove through "unincorporated towns" which was a foreign concept to all of us. These shady towns do not have a municipal government, police officers, or even a local schooling system. Like the majority of West Virginia, and its poverty, these towns are not only hidden by mountains and forests, they are forgotten.

As we wound down the stretch of the highway, we approached the welcoming sign "Beards Fork, 2 Miles, Turn right." If having just survived the unmaintained highway we were on for the last forty minutes wasn't enough, we now had to voyage down a two mile, single lane "holler" that led us into the great unknown where we would be spending the next six nights together. Pulling up to the fenced in lodge, we knew we had arrived at the Southern Appalachian Labor School (SALS). By this point, we had already caught a glimpse of some of the poverty stricken areas of West Virginia and barely had a hint of what to expect. We had driven for hours and through four different states. Our personalities had started to show and we had begun to know one another. We were curious, anxious, ready for whatever was next. It was at this moment that our unforgettable week began.