America

This seems more like a title for July 4th, but I've been thinking about America a lot these past two weeks. Last week, my mother and I drove down to the boonies of North Carolina in search of our history. I am a genealogy freak. I love love love to research my family history. My mother and I have been working on this project for several years now (she has been working longer). I spend most of my time researching the "Corbett" crew and she often focuses on the "Marks" (her maiden name). My American history begins in the 1700's when Thomas Corbett came from Scotland to America to settle down. He and his brother in law donated land in Ivanhoe, North Carolina to erect one of the first Presbyterian Churches in the state (1745ish). This little town sits nicely on the Black River of Eastern North Carolina. At one time, Ivanhoe was known as "Corbett's Ferry". Ivanhoe is no longer a bustling small town. It has been dead for many many years. There is an emptiness when driving through the area.

On Monday, my husband, son, and myself drove to Wrightstville Beach for the day. We took 117 South from Wilson to Warsaw. It is definitely a more entertaining drive than I-95 and I-40. You pass through several small towns along the back country roads. Repeatedly you can see where small town America died. Almost all of these areas have an old railroad track (some are still used). The railroad doesn't perform the same function from 50 years ago. So the town died. It reminds me a lot of when dinner time was an actual family event that everyone participated in. I have a theory that part of America's demise is the moment when dinner time at the table became obsolete. (we'll save that for another post).

There is a lot to be said for knowing where you came from and maintaining a close connection with family and community. We don't do that well enough anymore. We live in the hustle and bustle of big city life. We like things shiny, new, fast, and on the go. We have lost the feeling and purpose of small town America. When I use this term an image pops in my mind. It reminds me of community churches, schools, neighborhoods, playing softball with my neighbors until 10 pm every summer night, values, morals, hard workers, incredible local food, etc. I yearn for that feeling of being tightly connected to my family and community. Perhaps this is why some of my favorite movies include "The Sandlot" and "Fried Green Tomatoes". I know, odd combo of movies. But my point is, we have become so spread out and big that we forget what it means to be truly connected in each other's lives. We have so much independence that I don't have to make eye contact with the individual who grew my vegetables, I just quickly walk through the grocery store. I don't need to stop at the local store and see what's happening in the world today because the internet and TV allow me to view the news in private.

I see so many of my counselee's suffering from depression, my youth drowning in a pool of "no one notices me", and no more eye contact with a passing neighbor. If we were truly connected in life the way small town America used to promote, would these issues be on the rise? Where is your local community? Are you fighting to know your neighbor and be involved in their life? This week, pause for a moment and reflect on your history and what it can teach you. I am hoping that your desire to find an intimate community connection will arise in you.