How Rural Communities Struggle Under The Weight of Their Legacies

I find myself frequently reflecting on the history of my hometown - Two Rivers, Wisconsin. There are several excellent books and narratives that trace its founding as a French fur trading and fishing village, the meaning of the Ottawa word "Neshotah" (twin rivers), and how several industries grew in support of the Great Lakes shipping and fishing trades. One can still see vestiges of these origins at the Rogers Street Fishing Village museum and in the products that Carron Net Company, Inc. and Kahlenberg Industries continue to innovate and that have placed the community on the map. Both companies are examples of multi-generational success stories and the wisdom in focusing on quality even as competition has either declined or diversified.

There is still commercial fishing in Two Rivers, just as there is still a diverse base of manufacturers in the community (as an aside, check and see where your Nesco Roaster was made...). What has changed is the scale and prominence of both. The diversity of what remains is a strength, even though it may provide little inspiration for what comes next.

This, along with the larger manufacturers that have closed in the past several decades is part of the community's heritage and provides the table of contents to its story. The stories told by those who knew and who grew with these places fill the night air and occupy several of the community's bar stools (that is a legacy and a culture unto itself.)

Community leaders in recent years have struggled to decide what parts of its legacy it wishes to move forward and which to leave behind. Tourism efforts have touted the region's natural beauty, the region was also recently designated as a NOAA Marine Sanctuary due to its high number of steam-era shipwrecks, and the community embraces many of the new business owners that open each year.

Yet it is hard to find the story that can be told now or what will be said of the future. The community has had several conversations regarding the redevelopment of a handful of notable sites, yet few have advanced. Much of the work that has occurred has been incremental in scale or focused on maintenance of community assets.

It feels like a community that has, in many respects, been left behind. Other nearby communities have experienced more notable job growth, new housing, or tourism interest. Granted, this is not Two Rivers's fault. It lacks the advantage of location and highway access that others possess and its tourism promotion strategies are in their early days.

Still, it is difficult to identify a federal program or new emergent industry that could take hold and reinvent the community. It lacks both capacity and a catalyst. At a time of unprecedented federal investment in both, it is not clear where a community of its size fits. I am intensely curious as to what Melissa Roberts Chapman and her colleagues at FAS find in this regard.

For communities caught in the in-between of not being so small to be distressed nor being large enough to see the agglomeration and scale gains that others enjoy, it is often difficult to tell their story and gain relevance to those on the outside.

A common theme in religious teachings suggests that ones history does not define its destiny. However, for America's small and rural communities, perhaps it is important to let their history inform their destinies. These communities experienced periods of growth and relevance. They were both prosperous in stretches and provided opportunity to generations. This all remains within their capacity given a strong vision and creative champion.

What is needed is a better understanding of why these communities are different, why they matter, and what they need. These are the conversations that I very much look forward to having with friends, colleagues, and the network that I have built here.