The Appalachian Collegiate Research Initiative presentation in Connellsville this past November (2025) served as a vessel for many firsts for me, and presumably for some of my colleagues. Until now, I’ve never had the opportunity or privilege to stand before a room full of relevant stakeholders and present to them findings and recommendations pertaining to real issues about economic development that linger in their very own town. Comprised of invited interviewees, economic officials, urban studies professionals, and townsfolk, the group lent their ears to hear out what my peers and I had worked on for months prior. I encountered a mix of emotions amidst the buildup and up until the very conclusion of our presentation, embodying tastes of fear, anxiety, and pride. As someone who firmly believes their presentation anxiety genuinely worsens every time they participate in such an activity, that much was to be expected. However, when your deliverables, when every word you say results in real ripples or tangible consequences, be it offending someone or being praised, that anxiety will be amplified. Said anxiety then feeds on fear.

One can’t help but think about the effect of every word spoken. The difference between say, “ghetto,” or “underdeveloped,” is the sprawling spectrum of how one can interpret either word. One implies a destitute nature, a sense of hopelessness, while the other implies a grand opportunity to bring out the potential one sees. People visit Connellsville, live in it, were born here, and hopefully share the love with their following generations– meaning I’ve met plenty of people who would immediately deem their town with one of those words, and refute the latter. Every choice of word, diction, and imagery will resonate with the listener one way or the other, so it’s ultimately up to us, my team, to mitigate our biases and opinions, and simply just listen and provide with objectivity. Though lastly, there is pride. What bridges the gap between the tangible work I’ve done and what allowed me to walk on that stage (relatively) confident was pride.

Having maintained the values of objectivity, respect, and a quickly grown passion for what I was involved in, I soon found myself proud of the work I was conducting. Every survey response felt important; they felt personal. I got to the point where I was checking JotForm, our surveying platform, eagerly every morning to read what the next high schooler had to say about their town from a brutally honest point of view, or what the next teacher had to say about those very same students, concerned for the future ahead of them. I learned about third spaces of decades past, people’s personal connections to restaurants that they worked at, parks they played in, and we even found out that my peer’s relative graduated from the same class in the 80s as one of the shop owners we interviewed (Retro – Antiques, Vintage & More, Uniontown, PA. Go check them out!). I believe I put myself in these people’s shoes to the very best of my ability, considering the time, constraints, and resources at our disposal. In doing so, I found great strength and motivation through these raw forms of interaction.

Our team for this initiative consists of three cohorts, being business, urban studies/political science, and sustainability, which itself pulls students from a couple of schools in the University. Each cohort had a different tangible product to bring forward: a survey to help inform a Uniontown downtown business district brand identity to drive small business development and tourism; the Connellsville Sicker Project, highlighting existing assets and leveraging local artists to drive tourism; and a pipeline of education to career opportunities in manufacturing, aiding economic development and uplifting the manufacturing industry in Brownsville. The deliverables shared themes of leveraging existing assets to provide recommendations for economic development efforts, though I’ll only expand upon the business team’s contribution, having been a part of the effort.

Our deliverables consist of the content we’ve gathered thus far to help develop a brand identity in the future. A brand identity, a more cohesive compilation of themes that embody Uniontown, color schemes, marketing materials, etc., would be recommended with the intention of securing recognition by the Main Street Matters Program, allowing for more readily available funding and grant access. The content hails from two sources: our survey and more in-depth interviews with select stakeholders. As of December 17, 2025, 139 respondents informed us of their opinions of Uniontown’s business district: its highlights, what it’s missing, what keeps you from going there, what draws you in, what would make you spend more, and what words or images come to mind regarding Uniontown. If a student: what are their plans after high school, and if various factors in Uniontown were to change, like higher education availability or career opportunities, would such plans be different?

Admittedly, the survey was a little more successful than anticipated, making 139 surveys, mostly comprised of short responses, a little difficult to comb through and communicate results with. Ideally, I’d wish to leave the next iteration of ACRI with a dashboard for the survey, after amending the questions to be more friendly towards data analytics extractions. We’d request the same participants who distributed our survey to do so annually, obtaining new data consistently to constantly update the dashboard. This added feature could provide further insight, like as how opinions change over time, how trends in demographics shift, and if new additions to downtown affect responses to show a change in response average.

My biggest recommendation, coming from my perspective, would be not to let the opportunity for voices to be heard die. Economic redevelopment comes from a push for change, which accumulates from widespread, universal opinion; meaning, voices must be heard!