See You Later, ACRI!

This past semester has been a whirlwind. The Appalachian Collegiate Research Initiative is unlike anything I’ve encountered before. Before starting this experience, I didn’t really have any expectations as I had never been involved in research before. The kind of research I was familiar with, through the media and being from a research university, was mostly clinical, lab-based, or highly controlled, often with a focus on scientific experiments or medical studies. That kind of research, while valuable, felt distant from my own interests or experiences. However, this experience completely changed my perspective. It was incredible to step into the world of community-based research and discover how impactful and powerful it can be. Rather than working in a lab with predetermined variables, I had the opportunity to engage directly with real-world issues in collaboration with communities. I learned how community-based research emphasizes ethical approaches, listening to and valuing local knowledge, and working alongside people to address challenges that matter to them. It was a process rooted in respect and partnership, with an aim to create positive change that is sustainable and meaningful. It’s not just about gathering data but about empowering communities, fostering inclusivity, and ensuring that the research benefits everyone involved. This experience has shown me that research and change thrives in the heart of communities, where the potential for change is not only possible but also deeply needed.

Before starting this project, I’ll be honest – my perception of the Appalachian region was mostly negative. I grew up in a small Appalachian town, Spartansburg, Pennsylvania, and at the time, I felt somewhat limited by it. There was always this sense of being trapped, like there wasn’t much opportunity or space to grow beyond the confines of that small town. I think a lot of people from rural areas can relate to that feeling of wanting something more, of yearning for the excitement or variety that bigger cities seem to offer. This wasn’t something I could put words to until Professor Kanthak talked about how those from Appalachia feel like they need to “get out.” The idea of needing to “get out” comes from years of stereotyping the region and not allowing the towns the space to grow. After going through this project and gaining a new perspective, I’ve come to realize that the feeling of being stuck wasn’t necessarily a reflection of the town itself, nor were they a reflection of the people who live there. Looking back, I see now that a lot of my frustration was tied to being an adolescent anywhere – it’s a time of change, uncertainty, and trying to figure out who you are, and small towns, with their slower pace, can sometimes feel like they amplify that restlessness. It was more about where I was in my life than it was about the place itself.

Many people, when they think of Appalachia, tend to focus on the image of coal mines and the associated hardships – but that is a very narrow and, frankly, misleading perspective. While it’s true that coal mining has been a significant part of the region’s history, it does not define the entirety of Appalachia. The idea that Appalachia is just a place of poverty, environmental degradation, and industrial decline has been perpetuated by external narratives for a long time, but this oversimplified view fails to capture the full complexity and richness of the region. Stereotypes of Appalachia have been used to marginalize and suppress the voices of the people who live there, often making them seem less capable or less valuable. This narrative diminishes the cultural heritage, resilience, and community strength that are at the heart of Appalachia. It paints the people as victims of their circumstances, trapped in a cycle of poverty and isolation, without recognizing their agency, creativity, and contributions. Instead of solely focusing on the struggles, we cannot ignore the resilience and ingenuity that continue to shape the region. It’s important to challenge and expand the narratives that have been placed on Appalachia and to listen to the voices of the people who truly understand the nuances of their home.

Having gone through this experience and reflected on my past, I wish I had appreciated the beauty and uniqueness of my hometown more when I was there. Now, with a broader understanding, I see how special the place truly is. I’m genuinely excited to return home for winter break. This time, when I go back, I’m going to make an effort to really take in everything around me – the beautiful natural landscapes, the quiet charm of the town, the peacefulness of the snow, and the closeness of the community that is such a core part of the Appalachian experience. There’s something deeply comforting and meaningful about being in a place where people know each other, where there’s a sense of belonging that you can’t replicate in a city. The simplicity and authenticity of it all is something that, in the past, I may have overlooked, but now, I find myself eager to embrace.

When I’m old, sitting on my porch with my grandchildren, I’ll tell them this experience was about much more than just a project; it was about uplifting and showcasing the beautiful towns that truly represent and make up the heart of America. Our mission was focused on supporting economic development, but that’s only part of the story. True progress goes beyond dollars and infrastructure—it’s about investing in the people and the places themselves. The goal was to support Fayette County, a region rich in culture, history, and natural beauty. It’s a place that holds incredible potential for meaningful change, and I believe that change can help bridge the divide between urban and rural communities. By empowering the people of Fayette County, nurturing their strengths, and honoring their traditions, we can create opportunities that not only uplift the region but also close the gap that often separates rural areas from the rest of the country. This experience taught me that economic development isn’t just about numbers; it’s about connecting communities, fostering pride, and ensuring that even the smallest towns have the chance to thrive in a rapidly changing world.

This course is unlike any I have ever taken at Pitt. This course stands out because it was incredibly hands-on, student-led, and provided us with the unique opportunity to go on site visits. Unlike traditional courses that rely heavily on lectures and textbooks, this one immerses us in real-world experiences, allowing us to actively engage with the material rather than just learn about it in theory. While there were weekly “classes,” they were more like meetings to update each other on our group projects, ask questions, and share ideas. We also had weekly readings to discuss, but rather than being passive recipients of information, we drove the direction of the conversations, made decisions, and problem-solved as a team. This student-led approach gave us a sense of ownership and responsibility over the work we were doing, which made the learning process far more meaningful and impactful. It also gave a new perspective about what it is like to cold reach out to people, both via email and in-person. Furthermore, I have never taken a course that required me to balance both professionalism and approachableness in such an essential way. This course pushed me to develop and refine my ability to communicate effectively with a variety of people, whether it was engaging with community members, working with peers, or interacting with professionals. I had to approach every situation with a combination of confidence and humility, ensuring that I was respectful and approachable while still showing that I was there to learn. This balance was crucial in building trust and collaboration, especially when navigating complex issues or working in a team setting. The course taught me that professionalism doesn’t only come from expertise or authority, but also from the ability to listen, empathize, and engage with others in a genuine and respectful way. It’s a skill I know will be invaluable in both my academic and professional future, and was something that was hard to navigate in the beginning.

Finally, I want to hit on the site visits. The site visits were crucial in deepening our understanding of the concepts we were discussing. Being able to visit actual locations, speak with community members, and see firsthand the issues and successes in these areas allowed us to connect the dots. These visits brought the coursework to life in a way that a classroom setting could never replicate, giving us a deeper appreciation for the challenges and opportunities these communities face. This hands-on approach truly made the course unlike anything I’ve experienced before. Connellsville, Uniontown, and Brownsville have so much to offer, and it was a pleasure to visit, spend time there, and engage with the residents. I want to give one final shoutout to my favorite spots in the county, which I still think about today and likely will for the rest of my life. If you’re ever in Fayette County and have already visited wonderful attractions like Fallingwater, I highly recommend checking out Connellsville Canteen and the State Theater for the Arts.

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