On Being for Kindness and Against Master Narratives
And a request for stories of the Feamsters from family members
I think one of the most valuable things that creative nonfiction writers can do is to speak about lived experience that goes against a current master narrative, particularly a harmful one. “A master narrative is a transhistorical narrative that is deeply embedded in a particular culture.” (Jeffrey R. Halverson) One of these that I hope to push against in my book is that there is, and has always been, a relationship of wariness, and perhaps even antagonism, between non-Jewish Appalachians and Jewish ones. That, somehow, antisemitism is a natural and immutable part of Appalachian culture. My research, more and more, suggests this just wasn’t the case during the pack peddler years, during which much of Appalachia was settled, and is a story foisted on us from the outside (as so much of the story of Appalachian life has been). In fact, the Jewish and Lebanese peddlers (and the research suggests that almost all pack peddlers in West Virginia were one or the other during this time) were well-treated and welcomed by the rural farms and communities who depended on them for basic necessities before the railroad reached these areas.
More and more, I’ve come to suspect that we’ve all been infected by a master narrative that suggests “Wherever Jews live, they are hated, so when you hear of Jews moving to a new place, assume they met antisemitism in significant ways.” What if that just wasn’t true?
I’ve been researching the way in which mutual aid and kindness from others shaped my family’s early experiences in the U.S and made it possible for my great-grandfather Lake and his siblings to build the good lives that they did, and which we continue to enjoy. The one name that comes up over and over again is that of the Feamster family, with whom Lake lived so that he could attend high school and who, I believe, also helped out with his children when his wife Bertha died.
These seem like extraordinary kindnesses and the extension of an enviable kind of friendship, not like being treated as outsiders by the gentiles in West Virginia our family first encountered.
I’ve found this article about Mrs. Feamster’s 88th birthday celebration, which my grandfather and parents attended, and another one about her 90th that my Uncle Eddie, Aunt Dorothy, and cousin Lisa participated in. The only other articles I can find record her work with a women’s church organization called “The Circle,” though it’s not clear which church it was affiliated with, or what its function was beyond the social.
I would love any and all other stories that family members might have about the Feamsters, or about other friendships and kindnesses that first generation found when they emigrated to the US. There is nothing inevitable or natural about antisemitism… help me tell the stories of acceptance and assistance instead. And even if you’re not a member of my family, I’d love to hear your own stories of kindnesses shown in hard times. These are certainly such times, and so remembering our ability to give and receive kindness is particularly important in this moment. Tell me about things that show us the better aspects of human nature.
Below, my friend Maija commented: Hanging in my living room is a large framed print of a beautiful woman in Roman garb. It came from my grandparents' farmhouse in the Upper Peninsula. An art historian I brought it to here in Chicago said it was the sort of thing farmers bought peddlers making their rounds back in the 1920s or 1930s. She wanted to share that picture with you:
This is such important work both for Jewish people and for Appalachia. That is another place that has suffered from master narratives that often bear little resemblance to life here on the ground. And I will be completely honest - I knew pretty much none of what you shared here before now, despite having roots in northern Appalachia and living in SE KY for more than 20 years. Thank you!
My Grandmother attended Circle Meetings. They were basically the weekly women's Bible study at the Presbyterian church.