I read this opinion piece a few days ago called “Something Special is Happening in Rural America.” It gave me a little added optimism about my chosen home and reminded me of some of the reasons I live here. I’m part of a trend in America away from living in big cities and toward living in smaller towns.

I grew up in a town of about 20,000 people in south central Pennsylvania. Although the town itself was small, it was about 30 minutes from the state capital and in a metropolitan area with a population of more than 500,000. I lived about two hours from Baltimore and Philadelphia and less than four hours from New York City.

I had access to big cities and their amenities, but my people were not city people. My parents and their siblings had been raised amidst farmland. There remain undeveloped rolling hills and expansive fields within a few miles of my parents’ house, although more and more of the farms have been sold to build housing developments and strip malls. Parts of south central Pennsylvania feel very northeastern, like extended suburbs of Philly and New York, but other parts still feel like the land of the Amish, country people and farmers. It is, after all, at the edge of northern Appalachia.

Some of my high school classmates moved to big cities, eager to leave our small town behind and chase the glamour and opportunities of urban life. I, too, wanted to go somewhere else when I turned 18. Rather than migrating to a big northeastern city, I headed south along the Appalachian Mountains to a small school just outside of Roanoke, Virginia. That city and its surrounding areas had a southernness that distinguished it from my hometown in Pennsylvania, but they were not so different. After college, I made my way back to Pennsylvania for a few years to work and attend law school, and then I took a job a couple hours southwest of Roanoke in a town of fewer than 10,000 people.

Since 2012, I have lived in the Tri-Cities area of Tennessee and Virginia, near where those states meet North Carolina, Kentucky, and West Virginia. There’s an effort underway to rebrand the region as the Appalachian Highlands, which seems fitting. Culturally, it is proudly Appalachian, and the rolling green mountains create a beautiful landscape. This is coal country, or at least it used to be. It is where country music was born from “hillbilly music,” which grew out of the bluegrass inspired by the residents’ Scots-Irish roots.

The people whose families have lived in this area for generations have a reputation for being insular and distrusting of outsiders. Nearly everyone I’ve encountered here has been friendly to me, but I admit that most of my good friends here are transplants like myself. As a Yankee who is nonreligious and politically left-of-center, I am far from representative of the people who inhabit this place.

This area is not particularly diverse, ethnically or otherwise. The county in which I live is 95% white. The population is overwhelmingly Christian. In 2015, the Tri-Cities area was ranked the third most Bible-minded place in America, after Birmingham and Chattanooga. In the 2016 presidential election, more than 75% of my county voted for Donald Trump. The economy is struggling, with a median household income of about $42,000 and more than 15% of people living below the poverty line.

Unlike most of the people here, I am not from this area originally, although after seven years, it’s feeling more and more like home. So why do I choose to live here? As is often the case, I came here somewhat by chance, for a job opportunity. I could have moved on by now, but a series of life events led me to settle here. This place is beautiful, with a climate that is about as perfect as I could imagine. We have four seasons, but neither the winter nor the summer is very harsh. The lush green hills make me happy, as does the lake by my house that I get to see every morning and every evening. This physical setting brings me peace. And while it’s cliche, the pace of life here really does feel slower, even though professionally I’ve been as busy as I was in Pennsylvania.

I am in the upper rungs of society here financially, and while I know that I could earn far more money working as a lawyer in a big city, the cost of living is so low here that my salary affords me a good bit of luxury. But knowing that so many people around me are struggling profoundly keeps me grounded and grateful for what I have. I feel little pressure to keep up with the Joneses, far less than I did living in Pennsylvania, although that could partially be a product of my own maturation.

I visited northern New Jersey recently for a wedding, and I was stricken by how image-conscious the people there seemed. The neighborhoods felt crowded and the roads were congested. While I had a great time at the wedding and was happy to see my family, I was glad to leave the next day. I’ve visited New York and its suburbs many times in my life, even spent a month in Manhattan as a 19-year-old art student, but I have never desired to live there.

I do recall a time in my mid-to-late 20s when I considered moving to Washington, D.C. I was drawn to the energy there, all the educated and engaged young people, and the green spaces and shorter buildings made it feel more aesthetically attractive and livable to me than New York. As a single, childless person, I thought I’d enjoy all the cultural offerings and the social and romantic options. Though my life is different now that I have a family I suppose I could still see myself living in the greater Washington area someday, if the right opportunity arose.

But the fact is, I have no shortage of things to do here, and no shortage of wonderful people to keep me company. What this area may seem to lack in museums and concerts, it makes up for in outdoor recreation, festivals, and more. I’ve enjoyed all sorts of cuisines at numerous area restaurants, have seen excellent theater productions, and routinely hear great live music. Admittedly, now that I have a child, I have less free time than I once did, but I never find myself with nothing to do. When I hear fellow transplants complain about the lack of activities here, I think it says more about them than the area.

I do worry occasionally about the economy here. It seems that most of the new jobs being created are service industry jobs that do not pay well, and while there are a few big companies that have kept the local economy humming along, I can’t help but wonder how long they’ll stay and whether other major employers will replace them. But I’ve seen how hard local officials work to bring economic development to this region. There are smart people here who are aware of the needs and strengths of this area and who are deeply dedicated to seeing the region thrive. There are a number of young people with creative ideas and entrepreneurial spirits who are bringing great things to this part of the country. In time, I’m hopeful that more and more people and businesses will choose to locate here.

And what about my neighbors, the majority of whom are quite different than myself? Many of these people are, at their core, good people, always willing to lend a hand. I believe it’s important for all of us to interact with people who think differently than we do, and even though I often disagree with them, living here has given me a greater understanding of their mindsets and points of view. In a world and country that is becoming more and more polarized, it is crucial that we seek to know and understand people who hold different views. I have learned from the people here, and perhaps some of them have learned from me as well. I’ve become more open-minded and tolerant since living in rural Appalachia. I’ve also found my tribe here, an ever-expanding group of people who hold views and values more in line with mine. Those people give me solace and companionship, and make me feel as though this really can be my home too.

There are serious problems plaguing this region, but I think that’s the case with nearly any place. I know that I view them from a place of significant privilege and that they don’t affect me like they affect many of the area’s less fortunate residents. For me, the selling points of this region outweigh its difficulties, and I trust that a great many people with big hearts and big ideas will continue to tackle those challenges. I hope that more educated younger people like myself will choose to make homes in rural America, breaking down some of the cultural and political self-segregation that has occurred in recent years. Places like this may not be for everyone, but they hold more opportunities and advantages than many might suspect. Thankfully, it seems more and more young adults are realizing that.

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