My Experience Part 1

Below are excerpts from an essay written by Marielle, Fall Courier 2009. She came through the Dartmouth Partner in Community Service at Dartmouth College.


Before undertaking my Dartmouth Partners in Community Service internship in southeastern Appalachian Kentucky, I would have acknowledged myself to be relatively well-traveled. I had been to Niger, France, Italy, Japan– and so I was perhaps a little cocky about my imminent domestic journey. ‘Really, how different could another state be?’ I thought to myself on the long, 17+-hour drive over from my home in Rhode Island. I would still be in the U.S., and at least we would all speak the same language! Several people I spoke with in Leslie County, Kentucky had never been on a plane; my first plane was at the age of four months, when I flew with my mother to England. Yet unbeknownst to myself, I was in for a challenge, if not linguistic (although, at times even that was a struggle– my northern dialect against the strong eastern Kentucky accent).

Upon first arriving in Hyden, KY, the town in which Frontier Nursing Service, Inc., is based, I remember being somewhat surprised. The main drag of Hyden, KY, was– sparse– to say the least. There was a Dairy Queen, and a Subway. Oh, and a Hardee’s. Wendover Road, the road upon which the historical headquarters buildings of FNS are located, was full of potholes and nearly unnavigable the first day I drove over it (luckily it was repaved within the week). There were several other “hollers” and “spurs” (Kentuckian for “roads”) that were in worse condition. The Big House, and Garden House, wooden structures built by Mary Breckinridge and FNS in the 1920s, were both to be my living quarters for the next eight weeks. They were not drafty old buildings, however, but rather majestic and rustic in their age and quiet, understated beauty. Indeed my room in the Garden House was definitely nicer than my any of my dorm rooms at Dartmouth, and I didn’t have to share it with a roommate. Being a vegetarian was at first a tricky enterprise there–I certainly learned to love my green beans and mashed potatoes. But the Wendover evening cook, Carolyn, also bought me veggie burgers and frozen vegetables, and the whole cooking staff was very kind and attentive to my dietary differences.

My internship was different from some in which students live and commute from their homes, in that it was a live-there experience, and also not in a bustling big city. The nearest big city was Lexington, a two-hour drive away. Although Hanover is itself a rural area, the ruralness of Hyden was different than that of Dartmouth, and the people who lived there faced different problems day to day. I saw pregnant women who spoke of difficult living situations, which were completely foreign to me. One woman lived in a four-generation household, where her sister kicked her pregnant belly, both were on drugs, and she was constantly berated and harassed by her grandmother, mother, nieces, and nephews. Often, there were really no men in the picture. Matriarchs, often grandmothers reigned; although, there were instances where single fathers also took charge of their children after their partners decided they were not ready for motherhood and would rather act like teenagers again. And several of the mothers were teenagers– there were several fifteen year olds scheduled for deliveries at Mary Breckinridge Hospital within the time I was there.