Worlds Apart, Living Right Next Door

Chapter Eight. The Rodeo.

The first flag to be trotted around the arena at the Madison County Rodeo was the Christian flag. The American flag was second.

The compere thanked the Lord for giving us such a beautiful evening that Saturday night at the Madison County Fairgrounds just outside of Marshall in Western North Carolina, and prayers were said for the cowboys, cowgirls, and all the animals, that everyone be protected. Then, the compere noted, “things are a little tense politically right now,” and consoled the crowd by reminding them, “we don’t seek leadership from Washington, we seek leadership from heaven, and look forward to the day when we can be one nation under God.”

I felt a little bit like a fish out of water, I can’t tell a lie.

It was a beautiful evening that Saturday night. Warm with a misty blue haze settling into the valleys of the Blue Ridge Mountain, and the scene was quite mellow.

I had arrived early. Two very welcoming ladies at the front gate asked me if it was my first rodeo (it wasn’t), and encouraged me to stay for the barrel races after the intermission. I wandered the fairground, taking it all in - the cowboys and cowgirls warming up their horses, getting their lasso on, and the music - country classics like George Strait’s “Cheaper Than A Shrink, (you don’t have to think, you just pour and drink,”) with the horses cantering almost to the rhythm. I watched a woman deftly back a large pickup and horse trailer into a narrow pen, no hesitation whatsoever, release some bullocks there before pulling out again and over to park on the other side of the arena, in the shade of some trees. This was certainly not her first rodeo, there with her partner and other friends, familiar, chatting, pulling horses out of the trailer and then she and her man walking off, hand in hand, towards the concession canteen.

I met Kim and Aspen. They were sitting on the edge of the stands absorbing the scene and we got to talking. I told them why I was there - I was working on stories about the US Elections with a focus on rural communities - and they said they would be happy to talk with me but, “it depends on who you are voting for.” When I said I was much more interested in who they were voting for they didn’t hesitate. “Trump all the way,” Kim said, and Aspen, her daughter-in-law agreed.

“Biden is a pushover,” said Kim.

Aspen said her biggest concerns were the economy and security. “All the conspiracies,” she added. When I asked her what she meant she spoke, darkly, about sex traffickers using the White House basement to traffic children. “How much space would be down there?” she asked me with the implication that there was a lot of space down there for such nefarious activity. (I couldn’t find this conspiracy online but there are similar ones being promoted by QAnon, none of which are true).

Aspen is pregnant with her first child. She doesn’t like the idea of abortion. It’s not for her. She had a miscarriage and so, she says, “it’s really personal.” She touches her heart when she says this. She believes the reason she had a miscarriage and is pregnant now is because, “God decides.” She is horrified by the idea that a woman would have an abortion in the eighth or ninth month. She brings this up with me as an example of abortion rights going too far, and yet again, I find myself in the position of having to say that abortions at eight or nine months are extremely rare, and only in life-threatening cases. Both she and Kim dismiss the idea that a woman’s right to choose is at threat in these elections. “There are too many powerful women out there and they won’t let that happen,” Kim assures me. “Women rule, men drool,” she says cavalierly, as if she is completely unaware that, already, in the United States, there are thirteen states where access to an abortion is quite literally banned.

Kim watches Fox News, and she only uses her computer for shopping. She has a flip phone. She says that God saved Trump from “the people who were trying to kill him.”

The rodeo is close to kicking off, and The Black Eyed Peas, “I Gotta Feeling, (that tonight’s gonna be a good night,)” blasts out across the fairground, followed by The Alan Parsons Project’s “Sirius.” If there ever was a prize for a song that is all about building anticipation, this one is certainly a contender. The compere comes on and introduces himself as Keith Monk from Rocking K Rodeo Entertainment. “Are you ready to rodeo?” he cries, and the people in the stands - half full at this point - assure him that they are. “Before we buck a bull, before we turn a barrel,” he calls out, “we welcome the stars of our sport,” and into the arena they come, cowboys, cowgirls, old, young, and all ages between, and we go through the prayers and the Christian and then American flags are trotted around the arena. Everyone bends their knee for the Lord and bows their head for the national anthem.

I stay for a little while. The stands start to fill, and the people there, young, old, middle-aged, a mixture of family and friends, cowboy boots and stetsons. Keith is active throughout, explaining what is acceptable and what is not in terms of animal welfare - why a cowboy has to release immediately if they get the hook wrong, as we watch these bullocks tear across the arena, cowboys galloping after them, lassos suspended and then flung. Swift terror. Quick release. Keith’s side-kick - he has a side kick - makes some dodgy jokes: a man meets a genie and asks him to turn him into something that will make him irresistible to women, so the genie turns him into a credit card. Ba-da-boom. I can’t quite tell if the crowd thinks this is funny.

Truth be told, I didn’t feel comfortable. I shot some photos but realized I wasn’t enjoying the scene.

I left the rodeo before the intermission. I decided not to stay for the barrel races.

Addendum: Aspen and I have been in touch since I published this piece. She and her family were without power for days after the hurricane but other than that they are doing okay. She is advocating for donations to local organizations, as opposed to national ones, so as to ensure that the funds stay local.

If you would like to support the people of Western North Carolina as they rebuild after Hurricane Helene, today I point you to the River Arts District, a beautiful space in Asheville, alongside the French Broad River, completely decimated by the Hurricane. Thank you.