Between looking at last night's election map and reading
this NYT piece, I've been thinking about cliquishness, diasporas, and fear (among other things, anyway).
I've lived in three and a half places throughout my life: most of the time in cities smaller than 100k (with the exception of my ~2 months in Boise, which is the half). For the majority of my life, it's been in red state country, though my time in South Carolina was definitely in a university bubble.
When I think about if I'd ever return to my hometown, or if I ask high school friends if they'd ever go back, the first response is usually a solid NOPE. Part of it may be lack of opportunity (in my case, scientific jobs are mostly re: nuclear energy or agricultural, and there aren't major publishing houses where creative friends could work), part of it could be there are more attractive wages elsewhere (minimum wage is $7.25/hour, though cost of living is also cheaper).
The Idaho Statesman did an article on this millennial flight, and I agree with people in my peer group:
“It’s frustrating that the Legislature always questions why people leave, but then they ruin things we care about: higher education, women’s rights, a living wage, affordable health care, LGBT rights, the environment,” Moroney said. “That’s a hostile environment to come in as a young person if you want to see change.”
Anecdotally, several people in my HS friend group ended up in the PNW. I absolutely love living in Oregon. Based on local measures, I can tell the community here cares about education, LGBT rights, and stewarding our environment. But I'm in
western Oregon. Earlier this year, the Malheur Wildlife Refuge was occupied by people protesting federal ownership of lands. Granted, the leaders of the occupation were mostly from out of state, but this happened here, not the South or wherever we imagine conservative bogeymen to be. (Anecdotally, Idaho's seen an increase in doomsday prepper types, so there's that).
I defended my masters last month, and am trying to figure out where to apply for jobs- realistically, anywhere. I've jokingly said to my significant other, "Oh, what if that dream job ends up being in Alabama?" and he responds with "Nope, wouldn't be worth it." He grew up on the gulf coast and worked outside of the university bubble in South Carolina and knows how awful people can be.
But I wonder: is there any hope for deep-rooted attitudes to disappear if the people who have casual thoughts never encounter someone different from them? For instance, to many evangelicals, a woman who has an abortion has committed murder. And maybe, she's a slut who should've kept her legs shut. Statistically, they (and you and I) know someone who's had one, and the women who do usually have children already. But there's no one visible to dispel the notion of Slutty McSlutface, why shouldn't they continue to believe it? This is partly why I'm vocal about mine in social media- to put a face on the Other.
A thread on r/asianamerican a few weeks ago was from a Californian who noted that all his friends lived in diverse city enclaves (Seattle, DC, SoCal). However, Cali cost of living is high and much of flyover country is cheap. Moving would be something to consider, except they didn't want to raise their young child in a place where they'd be a minority, where they'd be the only Asian, etc. They feared their child would be subject to racism.
Honestly? I can't say their fear is entirely wrong- after all, the murder of Vincent Chin happened in Michigan. But, if Joe Schmo from Somewheresville, IA never grows up with people who are different from him, what's to prevent media shorthand- stereotypes- from filling in how he sees them? He might not realize how badly some things affect people different from him if he doesn't have a face to it. As I recall from an argument a decade ago with an uncle: "Why should I care if gay people can get married or not? It doesn't affect me..."
Increased empathy and countering bias are benefits from a diverse classroom. Avoiding the midwest won't help it magically become more diverse.
At the same time, though, my feelings of fear for my safety in a Trump presidency aren't gone- and it's not necessarily fear of what Trump will do, but rather the people who voted for him that are okay with violence. I've seen a few cases on my feed of conservative friends saying "Stop calling me a racist, misogynistic bigot, because I'm not!" and sure, I'm not afraid of them wanting to jail me. However, I feel like they enabled the smaller but more vocal number of people who slash tires, who intimidate brown people, who are okay with punching people they disagree with in the face. I understand the need to live where I don't feel threatened.
But at the same time, I see the need to educate people, to be a blue girl in a red state. To be an advocate for those who the majority harm.
There isn't an easy answer, and I don't see myself sleeping well tonight either.
The Dim Sum Field Guide: A Taxonomy of Dumplings, Buns, Meats, Sweets, and Other Specialties of the Chinese Teahouse by Carolyn Phillips
