Appalachian Story Archives - West Virginia Public Broadcasting

Torli Bush And ‘Requiem For A Redbird’

There is a rich tradition of Black Appalachian poets and writers. One of the newest is Torli Bush, who grew up in Webster Springs, West Virginia. Bush has won poetry slams in the region, and now has a new book, Requiem for a Redbird. Producer Bill Lynch spoke with Bush about the book.

This conversation originally aired in the Feb. 23, 2025 episode of Inside Appalachia.

Producer Bill Lynch spoke with Bush about the book.

Lynch: Would you like to read something?

Bush: Sure I can, I can read something from, from the book I’ve there’s also been a ton of, ton of new stuff that I’ve been been working on. But I guess I’ll start off with this one. And…actually, I want to try to get through this without…

(Recites “Whereas Appalachia was always Black, queer and wild”)

Lynch: That was remarkable. Thank you. Just to say this so that my listeners understand this. You didn’t read that. You did that off the top of your head, and the cadence, and there’s so much in there. Wow. Do you do all your poems like that, or just a couple?

Bush: So the way that I got started into poetry was I’d taken some creative writing workshops here at WVU. I think it was my junior year, my undergrad. And long story short, I wound up performing at Steel City Slam in Pittsburgh. I got involved in that slam scene and I met a guy there who was originally from Clarksburg named Joe Weimer.

He was of mixed descent like me, but he was a Filipino American.

He graduated from WVU Law, was teaching out at San Marcos at Palomar College in California, but he would come back and go to go to the slam at Pittsburgh. He started mentoring me a bit, and got me into these different drills on how to work on your poetry, and performing it like that. That’s where that sort of stemmed from. The other form and craft, like how that poem has that “whereas” structure, that sort of came from grad school work later on that I had at West Virginia Wesleyan.

Lynch: Tell me about the poem itself. It seems very personal. It feels like you’re describing your life in a lot of ways.

Bush: Yeah, yeah. So like the place that I’ve gotten the structure of that poem from the collection called, “Whereas.” It’s by Layli Long Soldier. And throughout that collection she makes use of the whereas in that resolution form, but I wanted to kind of play on it as a resolution that also does tell a story. And that’s what I wanted to mix in, because I just have such a love for growing up here, and like everything that I’ve experienced here.

I don’t know… of the poems in this collection, this one actually might be my favorite one that I’ve written –partly because it gets into speaking into Appalachia as being such a complex place, and it talks about race and faith and everything else that I’m interested in, but it does do it through this lens of bringing someone in through a story.

This goes back to me talking about Joe earlier, like one of the first things that he taught me was you’re not wanting to explicitly preach with your poetry. You’re wanting to bring people in. You’re wanting to let them in on your life, and maybe shift their perspective that way. There has to be a place for them as the reader to connect with you as a person.

Lynch: Tell me about growing up in West Virginia.

Bush: I grew up in Webster springs. I was raised by my grandparents on my father’s side. I had good friends coming up through school. It was odd, and I didn’t realize, like, some of these things until later. For a long time, coming up through school, I was the only black person in my grade. And the way that I view race, I think that there’s a lot of bridges that can be built along the lines of class, between people.

I think that you have a history of that here in West Virginia, in terms like what the unions were able to do, obviously, met with, with all sorts of conflict from the powers that be. But that’s been one thing that, whenever I got into slam, I kind of noticed was just sort of the different perspectives that I had about race from, like, growing up here.

Apart from that, my own experience, I guess you could say with racism, it’s only ever been verbal. I’ve never been physically attacked for my race, but I’ve had some just slurs and things of that nature come up, but been able to navigate it. And I think it’s also part of what I was trying to navigate in the book, and then like, also taking it into the bigger context of how it is across the country.

Lynch: So what are your days like these days?

Bush: My day job is, I’m working as a construction inspector.

I guess I should mention that my undergrad from WVU is in mechanical engineering. There’s a whole thing about going from that to doing both in terms of the engineering and the writing, but my that’s what my days mostly look like.

I’m currently on a streetscape project, and it’s a lot of just refurbishing of sidewalks, planning landscape, that sort of thing. I really do like to see all the people that are working as the contractors, doing different jobs, because people will just often drive by and not really see a lot. Even though all the products come out to look like these really simple things, there’s a lot of precision in terms of what they’re having to do with drawing strings and cutting boards. Even though everything is simple, there’s this meditative, almost poetic arc to what they’re doing, even if it is messy.

Lynch: What happens next for you as far as your poetry?

Bush: Yeah, I’m actually close to getting the first draft of the second collection done. Actually, if you give me a minute, this one is one that I’ll have to pull up to read. But one of the poems I had actually just finished the other day was sort of in response to a prompt. I’ve been reading “Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings.”

It’s a collection by Joy Harjo. She’s the U.S. Poet Laureate from the Muskogee Creek tribe. And this one was just good to read with the moment that we’re in. The title of this one is “Post Election Prayer.”

(Reads poem)

Bush: That’s one of the most recent pieces that I’ve gotten done.

Lynch: Yeah, I can almost feel the ink still drying on that one. That’s amazing.

Bush: And that’s, that’s another thing that I’ve been trying to do. There’s been a lot of stuff that I’ve had to, I guess, process over the course of this whole cycle as a writer, as a poet. I’m trying to really maintain what I managed to strike with my first collection in terms of having a sense of balance, of like knowing when and how to express a focus and a calling out of what is wrong, and balancing that with the joy that you can still see in your life and the good around you and like trying to strike a balance with that.

——

Requiem for a Redbird is available from Pulley Press, an imprint of Clyde Hill Publishing.

Encore: What Is Appalachia? We Asked People From Around The Region. Here’s What They Said

This week, we’re revisiting our episode “What Is Appalachia?” from December 2021. Appalachia connects mountainous parts of the South, the Midwest, the Rust belt and even the Northeast. The Appalachian Regional Commission defined the boundaries for Appalachia in 1965 with the creation of the Appalachian Regional Commission, a part of Lyndon B. Johnson’s War on Poverty. It was legislation that sought to expand social welfare, and some localities were eager for the money, while others resisted the designation. The boundaries and definition of Appalachia can now only be changed by an act of Congress.

Politically, Appalachia encompasses 423 counties across 13 states — and West Virginia’s the only state entirely inside the region.

That leaves so much room for geographic and cultural variation, as well as many different views on what Appalachia really is.

For Inside Appalachia, we turned our entire episode over to the question, “What is Appalachia?” With stories from Mississippi to Pittsburgh, we asked people across our region whether they consider themselves to be Appalachian.

A 1996 map that shows the southern part of Appalachia, as defined by John Alexander Williams.

Mississippi

Credit: Caitlin Tan/West Virginia Public Broadcasting

Bob Owens is a watermelon farmer outside New Houlka, in the northeastern part of Mississippi. Owens said he was aware that Mississippi is part of Appalachia, but that no one in the state would consider themselves Appalachian. “I consider myself the worst redneck you’ve ever seen,” Owens said. “I live in the area of the Appalachian mountain range — not part of it, but close to it. So I guess you call me a redneck Appalachian.” This is the general consensus among the people in Mississippi we spoke to.

Geographically, the foothills of the Appalachian mountain range are located in northern Mississippi. The state’s tallest point is Woodall Mountain, 806 feet in elevation. For reference, the highest point in North Carolina, Mount Mitchell, is more than 6,600 feet in elevation, eight times higher than Woodall Mountain.

Co-host Caitlin Tan spoke with Texas State University History professor Justin Randolph, who wrote an essay for “Southern Cultures” called “The Making of Appalachian Mississippi.” Randolph argues in his essay that Mississippi became part of Appalachia for political and racial reasons, as well as economic advantages the designation brought to the 24 counties in Mississippi that were included in the ARC’s boundaries.

Shenandoah Valley

In the 1960s, while some localities were clamoring to get into Appalachia, on the eastern edge of the region, some lawmakers fought to keep their counties outside the boundaries, including politicians in Roanoke, Virginia and the Shenandoah Valley. Appalachian Studies associate professor Emily Satterwhite said explaining to her students why some counties in Virginia are included in Appalachia, but others aren’t, is confusing. “

The students in front of me are wondering why they’re not included,” White said.

Pittsburgh

Courtesy

Appalachia’s largest city is Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. When we asked people from that city to tell us if they consider it a part of Appalachia, about half said no. “I definitely do not feel that I am Appalachian culturally,” said Mark Jovanovich, who grew up just outside Pittsburgh’s city limits in the Woodland Hills area. “Personally, I would consider the city of Pittsburgh is sort of like a mini New York City. I guess we’d probably be lumped in as like a Rust Belt city, which makes enough sense, but definitely not Appalachian culturally.”

Writer Brian O’Neill disagrees. He wrote a book called The Paris of Appalachia: Pittsburgh in the Twenty-First Century. “My original title for the book was ‘I love Pittsburgh like a brother and my brother drives me nuts.’”

An editor advised him to change the title of his book to a phrase that he said is sometimes used to refer to Pittsburgh derisively. “I couldn’t figure out why that should be a putdown, because Paris is nice. And Appalachia is a beautiful part of the world. And if we were called the Paris of the Rockies, we wouldn’t run from that. So why would we run from this? Why don’t we embrace it? So that became the title of my book.”

He said that geographically, Pittsburgh is clearly in the Appalachian Mountains. “I mean, this is one mountain range that stretches from Georgia to Maine. And the idea that it belongs only to the southern part of the mountain range defies logic to me,” O’Neill said.

What Do You Think?

How about you? Do you call yourself an Appalachian? Why or why not? Send us an email to InsideAppalachia@wvpublic.org.

——

Our theme music is by Matt Jackfert. Other music this week was provided by John Wyatt, John R Miller, Alan Cathead Johnston, and Dinosaur Burps. Roxy Todd originally produced this episode. Bill Lynch is our current producer. Our executive producer is Eric Douglas. Alex Runyon was our associate producer on this original episode. Kelley Libby is our editor. Our audio mixer is Patrick Stephens. Zander Aloi also helped produce this episode.

You can find us on Instagram, Threads and Twitter @InAppalachia. Or here on Facebook.

Inside Appalachia is a production of West Virginia Public Broadcasting.

Temperature Blankets Tell A Story And Deviant Hollers, Inside Appalachia

A good blanket will keep you warm — but a handmade temperature blanket can convey a message to a loved one. This week, we talk to crocheters who make and share their art.

Since 2018, there’s been an explosion of LGBT writing about Appalachia. The editor of the new essay collection “Deviant Hollers” tells us about it and more.

And there’s an alternative to invasive bamboo, and it’s native to the region and found by rivers.

In This Episode

Temperature Blankets Record Life
New Book Explores Queer Appalachian Life And The Environment
A Bamboo To Call Our Own
Henderson Guitars For The Next Generation

Temperature Blankets Record Life

Karen Long is making a blanket of 2024’s high temperatures for herself.

*Photo Credit: Wendy Welch/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Temperature blankets are a popular project among crocheters. They began as a way for artists to document the daily temperatures of a year, using red yarn for record highs and shades of blue for the cooler days. But the tradition of telling a story through textiles goes back to ancient times.

Folkways reporter Wendy Welch had the story.

Henderson Guitars For The Next Generation

Jayne Henderson builds her own future as a guitar and ukulele maker.

*Photo Credit: Margaret McLeod Leef/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Guitars by Wayne Henderson are prized by players who are willing to wait up to a decade to get their hands on one, but his daughter, Elizabeth Jayne Henderson, grew up wary of following in her father’s footsteps.

But Jayne decided to carry on the family tradition, but in her own way. Folkways reporter Margaret McLeod Leef had this story.

New Book Explores Queer Appalachian Life And The Environment

*Courtesy* “Deviant Hollers,” edited by Zane McNeill and Rebecca Scott with foreword by Stephanie Foote.

The number of books and articles about Appalachia’s LGBT communities has grown with recent works like Neema Avashia’s “Another Appalachia” and Willie Carver Jr’s “Gay Poems for Red States.” Now, a new collection of essays explores the intersection of queer Appalachian life and the environment. The book is titled “Deviant Hollers: Queering Appalachian Ecologies for a Sustainable Future.”

Mason Adams spoke with the book’s editor Zane McNeill.

A Bamboo To Call Our Own

Volunteers in southwestern Virginia are trying to revitalize river cane.

*Photo Credit: Roxy Todd/Radio IQ*

There are more than 1400 varieties of bamboo in the world. The most common variety in the U.S. is Golden or fishpole bamboo from China, but America has a native species, too. It was once commonly found in Appalachia near rivers and streams.

The species was nearly wiped out, but a group of mostly volunteers is working to restore the plant in southwestern Virginia.

Roxy Todd reported.

——

Our theme music is by Matt Jackfert. Other music this week was provided by Jeff Ellis, Blue Dot Sessions, John Inghram, Paul Loomis and Frank George.

Bill Lynch is our producer. Zander Aloi is our associate producer. Our executive producer is Eric Douglas. Kelley Libby is our editor. Our audio mixer is Patrick Stephens. We had help this week from folkways editors Mallory Noe Payne and Jennifer Goren. You can find us on Instagram and Twitter @InAppalachia.

You can send us an email: InsideAppalachia@wvpublic.org.

You can find us on Instagram, Threads and Twitter @InAppalachia. Or here on Facebook.

Sign-up for the Inside Appalachia Newsletter!

Inside Appalachia is a production of West Virginia Public Broadcasting.

Encore: What Is Appalachia? We Asked People From Around The Region. Here’s What They Said

This week, we’re revisiting our episode “What Is Appalachia?” from December 2021. Appalachia connects mountainous parts of the South, the Midwest, the Rust belt and even the Northeast. The Appalachian Regional Commission defined the boundaries for Appalachia in 1965 with the creation of the Appalachian Regional Commision, a part of Lyndon B. Johnson’s War on Poverty. It was legislation that sought to expand social welfare, and some localities were eager for the money, while others resisted the designation. The boundaries and definition of Appalachia can now only be changed by an act of Congress.

Politically, Appalachia encompasses 423 counties across 13 states — and West Virginia’s the only state entirely inside the region.

That leaves so much room for geographic and cultural variation, as well as many different views on what Appalachia really is.

Mississippi