I Think: The difficulty of staying home

Montana Population Shifts (U.S. Census Bureau)

This semester I'm taking Regional Literature, which means a lot of reading about the west. We haven't gotten into any fiction yet, but I have enjoyed the essays we've read so far. Most deal about water. Water creates a problem for the West, in that there is not very much of it.

However, I don't want to talk about water here. Mostly because I took part in an hour-long discussion about it earlier today. Instead, I want to talk about something that has been a minor theme so far, but one that I feel resonates with a lot of Westerners today. It may even apply to you folks on the East Coast too.

Sometimes when you read an essay or story, a passage just jumps out at you. It resonates so strongly with the experiences that shape your world that the words stick with you. This happened to me while reading "The American West as Living Space" by Wallace Stenger. Mixed in between the talk about water rights and how public lands are good, there's one passage in particular that stuck with me. In his essay, Living Dry, Stegner writes:

Whether they are winter wheat towns on the subhumid edge, whose elevators and bulbous silver water towers announce them miles away, or country towns in ranch country, or intensely green towns in irrigated desert valleys, they have a sort of forlorn, proud rightness. They look at once lost and self-sufficient, scruffy, and indispensable. A road leads in out of wide emptiness, threads a fringe of service stations, taverns, a motel or two, widens to a couple of blocks of commercial buildings, some still false-fronted, with glimpses of side streets and green lawns, narrows to another strip of automotive roadside, and disappears into more wide emptiness.

 The loneliness and vulnerability of those towns always moves me, for I have lived in them. I know how the world of a child in one of them is bounded by weedy prairie, or the spine of the nearest dry range, or by flats where plugged tin cans lie rusting and the wind has pasted paper and plastic against the sagebrush. I know how precious is the safety of a few known streets and vacant lots and familiar houses. I know how the road in both directions both threatens and beckons. I know that most of the children in such a town will sooner or later take that road, and that only a few will take it back. (Stegner, 25)

I grew up, until high school anyway, in a town much like the one Stegner describes. Technically, Highway 95 goes around Cottonwood, but it still works. If anything, living on Montana's Hi-Line gives  this impression. Chinook, a town I passed through many a time on my way to and from Malta, comes to mind.

It is the last part of the passage that really stands out to me. Stegner knows that the children will leave and most will stay away. Part of that is reality: there are only so many jobs in a small town. To a certain extent, I think people with big plans and ideas can only do so much in a small town as well.

But still, people are leaving small towns and rural America rapidly. The picture at the top of this post shows the population shifts, county by county, in Montana. I live in Gallatin County, which is the fastest growing county by far in the state. However, looking east, and particularly northeast, we see a different picture. Sheridan County has lost 21% of its population in the past decade. Its current population sits at 3,384. It was not a populous place to begin with, and now one-fifth of its population has left.

I think it would make a great journal exercise to ask students if they plan or want to stay in their hometown and why or why not. Taking it one step further, it would be interesting to follow a class and every other year or so have them write about it. Do perceptions change throughout development? How so? For older classes, why do they think this exodus from rural America is happening, does it concern them, and if so, how do you fix it?

A heads up

Do you love my blogging about education? That's odd, because I haven't really done anything yet on that topic! Anyway, I'm taking an Integrating Technology in the Classroom course this semester. For that, we have to do a blog. You can view said blog here.'

Go forth and read!

I Read: Ready Player One

First off, let me just say that having a Kindle is awesome. My fiance, who is also awesome, gave me one for Christmas. I've already read two novels on it (1984 the other, which I suppose I could review). It took me about three days to get through Earnest Cline's Ready Player One.

The novel is set in the year 2044 and the Great Recession has ravaged the United States. Gasoline is so expensive that no one drives anywhere. Most people live in "stacks", which are stacks of mobile homes placed on top of one another. Poverty is high, crime is high (at one point, the main character actually purchases a gun from a vending machine), and while there is still a government, one gets the impression that corporations are in charge.

Things are, how do I put this delicately, horrible.

Except for the OASIS, a computer simulation that makes the Massive Multi-Player Online Role Playing Game (MMORPG) World of Warcraft seem like Pong. At its most basic, a person can use a pair of gloves and a visor to enter this virtual reality. At its most complex, you can use "immersion rigs" and full body suits to simulate everything that one can encounter as they enter this virtual world where anything is possible.

The OASIS has everything, including a public school system, which Wade Owen Watts (W.O.W. in case you didn't get that this book is about a MMORPG) is educated in. Commerce takes place there. Wade is raised by his aunt, whom he does not like and uses the OASIS to escape. This is one part where the book could probably do more to explain. Other than a brief appearance, Wade's aunt isn't seen and so we never get a sense as to why Wade hates her. Not much is given into life in the Stacks other than its bad.

What time Cline doesn't spend writing about the world life, he spends talking about the OASIS. When the book opens, the creator of the OASIS has died. When he did so, a game within OASIS started to find three easter eggs began. The first person to finish this game would get the creator's wealth and then be in charge of the OASIS. When the story opens, its been five years and no one has made any progress.

There are a lot of people that are looking. There are the "grunters" egg hunters, that are self-financed and obsessed with solving the problem. Then there's the corporate-based "sixers" who are bound and determined to gain control of the OASIS and then charge people for it. If all these gamers had to pay for the OASIS, they might have to go outside!

So, this hunt for the egg consumes the world. And the clues to the game are found in an almanac left behind by the creator of the game and his obsession with the 80s. Seriously, its almost annoying how 80s all of this book is. If you were a teenager in the 80s, you would love this book.

I suppose I should be rooting for Wade, but I spend most of the book feeling sorry for him. He's watched certain movies dozens of times, he's watched each episode of Family Ties multiple times, at one point, he goes six months without going outside or seeing another actual human being. He does have a love interest with another grunter, but that goes through the fairly predictable arc of interest from Wade, casual hanging out that is misinterpreted by Wade, a public "break-up", self-loathing by Wade, and then finally some reconciliation.

I did enjoy the book, its an easy read. But I think more into either why the world is in this state or more about it in general would help paint the picture as to why Wade and everyone else escapes into the OASIS.