By Sarah Schrock
By the time this goes to print it will be a week since the remarkable upset shook our nation. Relieved Trump supporters are vindicated after suffering through the past eight years, and progressives are in state of fear and grief, dreading the result of the present-elect’s rhetoric and disposition. Fear and distaste of the “other side” is what got us here, and like Aesop’s fable The City Mouse and the Country Mouse, there’s a lesson about appreciating the “other side” to be had.
Rural counties across the state trailed urban areas by 20 – 30 percent in voter turnout, with Okanogan County reporting 50 percent. In a state with mail-in ballots, this seems appalling. In a blue state, rural turnout might not change the electoral college vote, but more importantly it would have a significant impact on local and legislative district counts. One thing is clear: rural Washington voters need to learn from the other side to get out the vote. The urban and rural divide across the nation and state has perhaps never been blunter, and yet it’s this dichotomy that fuels the modern world.
Since the advent of the industrial revolution, rural livelihoods have been inextricably linked to the urban demand for raw materials. Urban dwellers require inputs from the country, and the rural areas benefit from the demand. The inputs fuel innovation, art, and technology that occur when many minds work together to understand and solve problems. Today, this plays out on a global scale, but essentially it’s the same game.
Here in the Methow, dependence on the urban influx during peak tourism season and construction of vacation homes is vital to our economic reality. Similarly, the agricultural and environmental benefits of our rural wildlands are a necessary input that offsets the urban ills. We are the refuge, serving up a supply of clean water, air, recreation, relaxation and wildlife that refuels the brains and bodies of the collective engine of progress that resides primarily in cities.
We would like to pride ourselves as being self-sustaining, independent of the “other side.” But that’s a fool’s paradise, a distortion of the fact that we all depend on one another.
You can’t have one without the other, it’s a balancing act. While the urbanites descend on the valley during peak season to embrace the intrinsic human need for open space, clean air, and wildlife, November is the time when many valley businesses shut down, and locals escape to exotic and urban areas for a needed change of scenery. We love our mountains, but a lit-up skyline can be equally as awesome when it’s a rarity, plus being able to soak in some culture can be a remedy for the November doldrums.
Aesop’s fable of The City Mouse and the Country Mouse couldn’t be more poignant today. Thankfully, Twisp embodies a rare blending of city and country mice and it’s this dichotomy that makes it so great (no need to be great again).
