We have a dinky little library here, and I think the librarian is part time and paid little. Yet she works like someone making $100K/yr at a big city library, constantly promoting the library, especially with kids. Lots of volunteers and people who give what they can. I've already donated a box of books myself. Also, tangentially, I'm also looking more at giving my charitable contributions at a more local level, vs always sending my dough to the Salvation Army. I wouldn't do that in previous places, because it always seemed the money went to addicts and losers. Here it looks like it would truly go to community improvements and people who could really use a helping hand.
But the article says rural people don't even want to help their neighbors, or themselves:
The library fight was, itself, a fight over the future of rural America, what it meant to choose to live in a county like mine, what my neighbors were willing to do for one another, what they were willing to sacrifice to foster a sense of community here.
The answer was, for the most part, not very much.
And yet, in times of crisis, it's usually the people from rural communities who are most likely to step up and help out, however they can. So, to translate, what the author views as "[being] willing to do for one another" isn't really about doing anything to help one another -- it's about being willing to fork over ever-increasing amounts of money to a faceless bureaucratic system and trust that the system will magically transform all that money into help for yourselves and your neighbors. This author is a person who doesn't understand the first thing about "helping" if/when the help might include actually
doing something, or getting her pretty hands dirty. To her, "helping" is all about feeding the system.
A considerable part of rural America is shrinking, and, for some, this means it’s time to go into retreat. Rather than pitching in to maintain what they have, people are willing to go it alone, to devote all their resources to their own homes and their own families.
Curiously, she writes as if taking care of your own home and your own family is a bad thing.
Example of how out of touch with reality some (many) liberals are: I live in a bedroom community that was definitely a rural, farming community when my parents moved us back onto a corner of the family farm in 1950. In the ensuing decades, we watched as one farmer after another sold out to developers, who built successively larger (and uglier) McMansions for the doctors, lawyers, and professors who plied their respective professions in the nearby city. When I was a kid, if we wanted to play softball we hopped on our bikes and peddled over to Tommie Adams' house, because he had the largest, most level yard where we could mark out the base lines. That wasn't acceptable to the newcomers -- they "needed" to have little league, professionally maintained ball fields, pitching machines, batting cages, and all the expensive paraphernalia that costs money. Then they kvetched if the taxes went up, so the money got spent on ball fields and tennis courts, while the roads didn't get maintained and the leaking roof on the school didn't get replaced.
Our high school is a regional school, drawing from my town, the town to our north, and the town to our south. School population has been declining. The budget for our share of the regional high school sucks up probably about a third of the total tax burden for my town. Several years ago, the regional school district proposed a new budget with a significant increase -- even though (once again) the enrollment numbers were down and were projected to continue to decrease. Because it's regional, the high school budget is voted on at a referendum that's conducted separately from the budget referenda for the towns themselves. To the surprise of many, the high school budget proposal was rejected, by a rather significant margin.
So the school board sharpened their pencils and came back with a new proposal -- asking for MORE money than they had asked initially. This proposal was also shot down at referendum. So they crunched the numbers, and came back asking for less than their second proposal, but still more than the original proposal. The members of the school board acted genuinely confused when their third proposal was also soundly defeated at the referendum.
This went on for about three or four months! We went through, IIRC, FOURTEEN referenda before the school board finally submitted a budget proposal that was somewhat aligned with the realities of the economy and the projected enrollment numbers. The school board just couldn't wrap their heads around the notion that people weren't willing to increase spending when the student population was dwindling.