The Roanoke Times published a fascinating and
wise editorial after last month’s election,
presented as a letter to the new leadership of Virginia’s General Assembly.
Speaking on behalf of the rural voters who may not feel represented by the new
Democratic majority, the paper said, “we don’t really know our new legislative
leaders -- and you likely don’t know us.”
Over the past several weeks, some city folks
like me have had a chance to get to know more about rural Virginians and
honestly, my reaction has been, “what the actual hell?”
The challenges facing rural Virginia are
myriad and seemingly intransigent. A September article by VCU’s Capital News Service talked
about the lack of sufficient healthcare and educational opportunities. Young
people are leaving due to the lack of jobs. The opioid epidemic continues to
ravage western counties like Buchanan where the
2018 death rate was 42 per hundred thousand, more than 8 times the
national average.
Perhaps most dire, while population has increased
at a brisk pace in the Commonwealth’s urban areas, rural counties have seen
precipitous declines. Projections are that the population in some communities
will drop by as much as 30% over the next 20 years. “They just don’t have what
it takes to retain people or attract new people,” laments one expert.
In the face of these challenges, have the
people of Virginia’s hinterlands banded together to lobby for educational
support, an expansion of healthcare outreach or the adoption of innovative
programs to create new jobs?
Nope. Even national news outlets are now reporting on the
“second amendment sanctuary” declarations sweeping across the Commonwealth like
a harsh vitriolic wind. Nearly half of Virginia’s counties have joined this movement, boldly stating their defiance
against a shapeless spectre: potential legislation that is only in draft form
weeks before being considered by the General Assembly, several steps away from
the Governor’s desk.
In my perhaps slanted view, these declarations
suggest rural Virginians would prefer to hunker down for a fight against the
unknown versus engaging in a debate about shaping policy that benefits
everyone. It continues a dispiriting pattern. Earlier this year, Republicans in
the General Assembly famously adjourned the special session on gun violence
without considering any proposals. Their “thoughtful and deliberative study” of
gun legislation included no actual recommendations. Now, counties
across the Commonwealth want to stop the conversation before it even starts.
Can this pugnacious attitude lead to any
positive change? I am hopeful that all Virginians -- heck, all Americans -- are
united in a desire for fewer deaths by gun violence. But how can potential
solutions be crafted when one side won’t even engage in the conversation?
I’m at a loss to figure out how exactly this
focus on gun rights helps rural Virginians. I may be missing something but I
don’t know how resistance to any and all new gun control measures creates more
jobs, improves anyone’s education or stops a single opioid overdose.
David Skorton, the president of the
Association of American Medical Colleges, wrote an op-ed for USA Today in September arguing,
as many others have, that gun violence should be considered a public health
crisis. With 100 people dying due to gun violence each day in America, most by
suicide, Skorton states, “It’s an epidemic. It’s relentless, and it's
spreading.” Will Virginia’s “sanctuaries” be safer or are they providing a ripe
breeding ground for the disease?
There are numerous programs based in big
cities like Richmond that are committed to improving the lives of rural
Virginians. If you look on the website of one of these, VCU’s Rural Cancer
Outreach Program, it proudly declares it has been supported since its inception
by funds granted by the Virginia General Assembly. Should the General Assembly
continue to support such programs when rural residents seem more concerned
about their guns then their health?
The Times editorial stated, “some of the
stereotypes about this part of the state are probably true, but others aren’t.”
Rural Virginia, you may be thinking you’re putting your best foot forward with
your 2nd Amendment sanctuaries. But in this city boy’s view, the stubborn
resistance to what, at its worst, may ultimately be an inconvenience and, at
its best, might possibly save lives is a stereotypical case of shooting
yourself in the foot.
