A Rural State of MInd

 

A Rural State of Mind

A rural spot is much more than a location. It is a state of mind and feeling.  Having lived in the hilly farm country of western New York for three decades, my wife and I are dedicated believers in “ruralness”.  In retrospect, it took quite awhile to get there.

In the 1970s and 80s, we lived close to downtown Albany, near the shopping malls and the flight path of the airport.  Several times a day, the jets would rattle our windows, and their landing lights would flash on our house. We adapted to crowded bus rides to work, continuous traffic noise, weekend past times of shopping, and a tiny lawn hardly worth mowing.  We made the best of city living, but a rural future was something we yearned for.

Where and how I grew up explains a good deal of my abiding interest in rural life.  My dad took me hunting and fishing for years as I grew up in the Lakes Region of New Hampshire.  I matriculated at a rural college in the mountains of Massachusetts and learned in American studies that small-town life is woven through our country’s history.   

Many years later, as research director for a state association of school boards, I realized that upstate and downstate New York are different worlds in many ways.  Whenever I spoke to regional school boards, I was always impressed by the strong flavors of conservative practicality and self-reliance found upstate, often rooted in farming or traditional small businesses.

 There are confusing ways to classify rural places for economic and demographic purposes, but my favorite description is “sprawling open spaces, extensive agricultural production, and communities with vibrant histories”.  Eighty-seven percent of our land can be described this way.  A sparse 18 percent of our population lives there.

After 22 years of city living, we finally landed in the rural heart of western New York, where I eventually became superintendent of a school district of 12 towns and 250 square miles.  My wife became superintendent in a small adjoining district so we gained a comparative perspective.  In many respects our districts are outer suburbs of Buffalo, with a share of daily commuters to and from the city.  My district crosses four different counties, which creates multiple challenges of rural bureaucracy.  The schools out our way are really like community centers and support systems for services and activities.  One of my proudest accomplishments was to support construction of a multi-purpose barn for career and technical learning on the high school grounds. Our FFA (Future Farmers of America) is an award-winning multi-generational phenomenon.

Soon after we purchased a home several miles away from town, we discovered some of the peculiarities of being out in the country. Distance to the nearest medical facility and grocery stores became significant. So did the operation and maintenance of a well and septic system. Nighttime seemed darker, traffic passed infrequently, and winter whiteouts became an urgent topic of conversation. Seasonal festivals and county fairs, musical concerts and parades, and group yard sales are signal community events. The police blotter in our local weekly newspaper became a source of endless fascination.

In perspective, being fundamentally rural has a unique character of its own.  Especially in retirement, we have enjoyed enduring friendships, a relaxing and stress-free solitude, deep connections to the land and nature, changing seasons, and a sense that the incredible beauty and space of rural living had always been waiting for us.