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The Mountain Parkway


“It takes courage to let go of the familiar and embrace the new.” Jennifer Mcmahon. Freshman year of college is a labyrinth of experiences while adjusting to being away from home. It is a common misconception among first-year students that everyone in college is having a fantastic time and loves being away from home. The students are endeavoring to fit all of the extracurricular activities they can into their schedule along with their course load. I have almost completed my first semester of college and have come to the realization that the life I longed to move on from I yearn for in this stressful environment. College is an essential opportunity for youth to further their educational attainment, meet new people, get involved in community activities, learn to be independent, and gain connections for their future careers. Still, I have noticed a misconception during this experience: students do not miss home. Why would you? Because college is full of fun and independence? 

There is no greater enjoyment after a few weeks of accomplishing assignments and enjoying time spent with friends, then getting into the car and heading east to the Mountain Parkway. After fighting through the rush hour traffic of a big city, I can relax, turn on some music, and collect my thoughts. The Mountain Parkway is a magical road ending in my secret oasis, home. 

While driving through the flat land that turns to mountain skies, road construction, and faded lines, I try to fully appreciate the scenery, the little things you do not see in the city that I have taken for granted. While living in an urbanized area, I have missed the sense of community eastern Kentucky offers. Almost every five miles, there is a little white one-room church, wooden crosses, naked trees, and clusters of homes. Each is a scene of a community widely represented throughout eastern Kentucky. The churches are a significant community-building aspect of East Kentucky, with the sense of brother and sisterhood in Christ being a common goal. Each member prays for one another and the community. Wooden crosses represent loved ones whose lives ended in those spots on the Mountain Parkway. They are also markers to remember a loved one while symbolizing love and respect for the family. This is a unique custom for eastern Kentucky that is not commonly found within cities or urban areas. Another way Eastern Kentuckians respect their neighbors in mourning is if driving at home and a funeral procession passes by, everyone turns their music off and pulls to the shoulder of the road. The naked trees alongside the Mountain Parkway in my county represent the devastating 2012 tornado that ripped through the area. The tornado was challenging in many aspects for eastern Kentucky, but everyone pulled together to help those who experienced damage and/or lost everything. Yet, the clusters of homes are my personal favorite. The houses are primarily families all living within walking distance of one another. Growing up in such a family-orientated area is one of the many blessings I am thankful for daily. 

During the drive home, I reached the end of the Mountain Parkway and entered my hometown. While driving through my comfortable small town, I do not have to worry about merging into traffic; these roads are simple and calm. I pass various familiar faces, only making me more eager to be home, and many school buses with small faces loaded down with dreams. I started to remember my long hauls on the bus in the evening when I would sit and daydream of leaving my town. I was so eager to go off to college and meet new people. Now, I am in college and chasing my dreams. I am very thankful for the opportunities I have had, the people I have met, and the knowledge I am obtaining. However, one of the biggest lessons I have learned thus far is that I am not ashamed of my origin. My community has helped me flourish with the skills I now have to be successful in this new atmosphere, but I love my home. 

I have now turned off the parkway to a small, windy road that leads straight to my childhood home. As I pull into the long gravel driveway to my house, I see the American flag raised like many others in my community. I can see my mother’s excitement sitting on our big front porch drinking coffee and the tail of my dog waggling as fast as possible. I can hear the sounds of my nieces across the hill laughing and playing outside in anticipation of me coming to see them after I settle in. I can smell the beautiful aromas of homestyle cooking my mamaw has prepared for me because she knows I have missed her cooking. The long three-hour haul is now worth everything; I am finally home.

Kara Beth Poe is a McConnell Scholar in the class of 2027. She is studying communications and political science at the University of Louisville.