Growing up in a rural area is often considered to be the ideal way for a person to get their start in life. Wide open spaces for play and discovery, close knit family and social groups for a feeling of community and cooperation, and stronger ties to tradition and local heritage are the perfect recipe for building personal character and positive memories that last a lifetime. Very few people who were raised that way would trade it for anything, even if the city proves more promising later in life. For generations, rural residents have faced numerous waves of enticement presented by urbanity, and many of our small communities have been in decline since the turn of the century. In 2017, I find myself becoming part of a new phase of rural anxiety, but one of my biggest concerns is that I don’t see my peers sharing this perspective.

I am part of a unique cohort that comes from a generally agricultural background, but in many families was the first generation to pursue university education. This means that we were raised with traditional values and an emphasis on work ethic in a setting where one’s reputation precedes every interaction, which is now being applied to a whole new frontier of thought and lifestyle. For me, leaving my hometown and being the first in my family and immediate circle to live out of province and numerous hours away was an extremely daunting undertaking and forced me to confront the major differences between rural and urban life.  I can’t even begin to describe how many times in the past four years I have felt disillusioned, scared, and uncomfortable while living in the city. Looking back, I realize how important it was to have experienced those feelings, and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

The thing is, I just do not think it possible anymore to perpetuate the notion that the city is an evil, corruptive place that is spelling doom for our small towns. While it is indisputable that the range of opportunities and resources in urban areas are still the main draw for young people, I think that we often do not consider the qualities of rural life that do not support the livelihoods of our youth. Being proactive in addressing the very serious needs of the new generations passing through our high schools and walking up and down Main Street will help to ensure that they are prepared to face life (and education) in the city. At the same time, thinking seriously about the plethora of truly wonderful qualities that rurality has to offer people just starting out in life and using them to everyone’s advantage will attract new knowledge, skills, and ideas. We have to support young people in broadening their horizons and returning to their roots with the promise of a viable livelihood, and it must start now.

The two main issues I observe are related to education and accessibility. In the case of the former, it is no secret that rural schools are facing often insurmountable obstacles in terms of resource allocation, enrollment, and bureaucracy. Students in remote areas face deciding between an hour or longer bus ride to city schools in pursuance of academic and athletic opportunities and remaining in a local school system that may not offer the courses required to prepare for a specific career path. As the trend continues and rural schools are placed on the chopping block, the fate of our towns as stagnant, undesirable bedroom communities is sealed. In terms of accessibility, I believe that transportation and access to technology are major factors. It is difficult to offer programs and support to young people living in remote areas without the option of public transit or, in many instances, a personal vehicle. In addition, internet access in the country is a frustratingly dismal concept in far too many places, leaving many of us disconnected from resources that our urban counterparts have been taking advantage of for years. All of these issues detract from the ability to build community and establish meaningful connections to rural life that can be maintained into adulthood, and are key detriments to the future of our towns.

Another area that suffers as a result of these and other barriers is that of political engagement. Young people aren’t often included in discussions of municipal issues, we generally do not come in contact with our local leaders and representatives, and we don’t learn in depth about how each level of the Canadian government functions. If this were to begin to change, rural youth could be able to identify the people in their communities who are capable of addressing their concerns and speaking on their behalf to a wider audience. They can become familiar with what is required of local leadership and the issues that affect them, and recognize just how powerful their voices can be. In short, they can make the difference that small towns across Canada so desperately need if they are going to both survive and thrive.

As one of these young people, I have recognized the necessity of leaving home to pursue the education and opportunities that our cities have to offer, but realized throughout that journey the importance of bringing new skills and experience back to town. I’ve had some incredible opportunities and learned a lot, but I’d still take the water tower over the Peace Tower any day (at least for now). Now, my mission is to work hard in encouraging my rural peers to feel the same; to see numerous familiar faces at board meetings and in volunteer groups; to empower people to appreciate and maximize the amazing qualities of country life; to make things easier for subsequent generations to walk this path. I’m a proud rural millennial, and I refuse to be present at the funeral of my hometown.