Introduction: Part I - An Outsider's Kentucky

Kentucky lies at the heart of America. While it is not literally the center of the map, if you are familiar with the socio-political landscape of the nation you probably understand the expression. Kentucky is lynchpin to most of the regions in the continental American geographical vernacular: it borders Northern states West Virginia and Ohio, Southern states Tennessee and Virginia; and Midwestern states Missouri, Illinois, and Indiana. It constitutes the northern strip of the Bible belt, and borders the southern edge of the rust belt. Innervated with cultural and ethnic roots, Kentucky connects America to her politically lucrative history. In many coastal states, information-age ethnic mixing reduces race tensions to a trite political card game—and a veritable thing of the past—as “whites” are gradually introduced to minority status. Meanwhile, Kentucky still struggles with racial divides predating the Civil War.

The population still retains a stereotypical, twentieth-century American ethnic makeup: Caucasian by majority, with an irrepressible African American minority. But the proverbial “melting pot,” which has continually made America important to so many immigrant families for centuries, is not wholly absent. Kentucky boasts small Asian, Indian, Hispanic, and Middle Eastern populations to accent the traditional Black/White divide. Still, the divide remains. The NAACP is strong in Kentucky’s metropolitan politics. Shining black gospel churches dot the street corners of a quarter of the largest city, Louisville, adding a kind of hopeful solemnity to a landscape of quickie marts, boarded up buildings, and cyclone fencing. They are as conspicuously absent in the other three quarters of town as “white” churches are in the “black” quarter. Westerners characterize those who live in the east end of the state as poor white trash. But in the city, poor districts are comprised of predominantly black, low-income, welfare ghettos, which elect Black representatives—when district boundaries can be arranged—to represent the African-American community’s interests. Louisville and Lexington, the two most nationally recognizable metropolitan areas, both have homicide rates that rise well higher than many other similar cities. The locals will tell you many of these deaths were the result of regressive racial tensions. If you visit the side of town where skin colors change, you might believe them.

Amidst the crumbling old industrialism, such as can be seen boarded up near Bank Street and Rowan in Louisville, there arise the tender shoots of new, flourishing economic direction. Small pockets of technological economic growth provide contrast against old-fashioned rural, manufacturing, gambling and coal mining regions. The old economy is still predominant. But it is shrinking, much to the chagrin of the labor men and many workers who had still counted on old-world retirement plans, complete with guaranteed, “company-man” 401k securities. Workers in more advanced states increasingly rely on savings plans, transferable securities, résumés, and short-term-contracts, while these workers still hold to the tradition of relying upon the company for financial security. Kentucky has some of the richest and poorest neighborhoods in the United States. If you are interested in horse racing, use UPS shipping, smoke cigarettes, drink Bourbon whiskey, or simply use energy in your home, your consumerism is directly impacted by the Kentucky economy. Politically, there are progressive-thinking liberal voters and steady, business-oriented conservatives, old-order Blue Dog Democrats and Neo Con, pro-government Republicans. Almost everyone is supports Federal aid for local projects; but to be anti-gun is politically fatal for any politician. Many are against welfare but favor business or agricultural supports, or vice versa. On social issues, being pro-choice or pro-gay is probably not a good idea for those wanting to win and hold office. But if you’re pro-church, and support the traditional family model, you are a lock for election—unless you’re a Republican. Then campaign staffs might be forced to fight an uphill battle to convince old-order Democrat families to “re-think” their persuasions; parties may change, but tradition dies hard.

Culturally, Kentucky is not quite mid-western, nor actually southern. It bears many of the marks of both regions, so that it is often compared with West Virginia, a Yankee state by historical definition, but southern in many cultural and political aspects. Wedged between the liberal agenda of the labor unions the workers rely on as their last hope, and the conservative Judeo-Christian values of the Bible belt region and the south in general, the rust-belt Kentucky atmosphere is one of political upheaval in these changing economic times. A most confusing state to an outsider, Kentucky is as striated and divided within as it is separated from the states around it by lack of association. Kentuckians have a drawl that sounds southern, but are as connected to the northern states of Ohio, Illinois and Indiana as they are to Tennessee and Missouri. Ask the locals: some will say they certainly are a southern state; the rest will just as firmly assure you that they are not.

Editorial commentary welcome.
Thank you, the Author.