Forgotten Places

Critical Studies in Rural Education

by William M. Reynolds (Volume editor)
©2017 Textbook XXVI, 362 Pages
Series: Counterpoints, Volume 494


Forgotten Places: Critical Studies in Rural Education critically investigates and informs the construction of the rural, rural identity and the understanding of the rural internationally. This book promotes and expands the notion of critical understandings of rural education, particularly in the areas of race, class, gender, and LGBTQ, with conceptualizations of social justice. While there have been many volumes written on critical issues in urban education, only a small number have been produced on rural education, and the majority of those are not critical. By contrast, Forgotten Places not only discusses "schools in the country," but also expands conceptualizations of the rural beyond schools and place as well as beyond the borders of the United States. It also tackles the artificial duality between conceptualizations of urban and rural. Forgotten Places includes scholarly investigations into the connections among the symbolic order, various forms of cultural artifacts and multiple readings of these artifacts within the context of critical/transformational pedagogy. This book fills a significant gap in the scholarly work on the ramifications of the rural.

Table Of Contents

  • Cover
  • Title
  • Copyright
  • About the author(s)/editor(s)
  • About the book
  • This eBook can be cited
  • Table of Contents
  • List of Illustrations
  • List of Photographs
  • List of Tables
  • Acknowledgements
  • Credits
  • Foreword: Rural Tourist (Shirley Steinberg)
  • Introduction: Forgotten Places in the New Gilded Age of Greed and Insensitivity (William M. Reynolds)
  • Introduction
  • Sections in the Reader
  • Notes
  • References
  • Part One: Geographies, Cartographies and Rural Culture
  • Chapter One: The Rural is Nowhere: Bringing Indigeneity and urbanism into educational research (Kelsey Dayle John / Derek R. Ford)
  • What is Rural and What is Not
  • Whither the Rural?
  • Indigeneity, Binaries, and Mapping
  • The Reservation
  • Resisting Spatial Binaries through Indigenous Knowledge
  • What, and Where, is Rural Education?
  • Note
  • References
  • Chapter Two: Teaching Against Provincialism in the Conservative, Anti-Intellectual Rural South (Paul L. Thomas)
  • The Self-defeating South, Words not Spoken: Racism as a Scar and Cancer
  • On Southern Heritage and Pride
  • James Baldwin: “On Such Small Signs and Symbols Does the Southern Cabala Depend”
  • Baldwin: “It is Apparently Very Difficult to be at Once a Southerner and an American”
  • Clemson’s Tillman Hall and the Tragedy of Southern Tradition: “Yes, but …”
  • Note
  • References
  • Chapter Three: Rural Place: Media, Violent Cartographies, and Chaotic Disruptions (William M. Reynolds)
  • The Rural and Violent Cartographies
  • Media and the Rural
  • The Rural Diagram
  • Chaotic Disruption
  • Notes
  • References
  • Chapter Four: Fat Guys in the Woods Naked and Afraid: Rural Reality Television as Prep-School for a Post-Apocalyptic World (Jennifer A. Beech / Matthew Guy)
  • Rural Reality Survival Shows as Testing and Training Ground
  • Turning from the Abject to the Rural
  • Consumerism and the Commodification of Rural Survival
  • Conclusion
  • References
  • Chapter Five: Finding Jesus: Schooling in the Age of Mass Surveillance (Michael Boyer)
  • Micro-narrative Themes and Archetypal Genre
  • Immigration Narratives and Economy
  • English Programs as Forms of Surveillance and Control
  • Rural School Life: Jesus’ Micro Narrative
  • Narratives and Historical Agency
  • Theme: The War on Drugs Narrative
  • Theme: Criminalization of Youth of Color
  • Theme: Illegality
  • The Role of Compulsory Schooling
  • Dismantling Master Narratives: My Other Me
  • References
  • Part Two: Critical Projects and the Rural
  • Chapter Six: Foxfire: Educational Deliverance in the Land of Deliverance (Frank Bird III)
  • References
  • Chapter Seven: Myles Horton and Highlander Folk School: An Enduring Exemplar of Rural Education for Democratic Engagement (Robert Lake / Andy Blunden)
  • Horton in Historical Context
  • Union Theological Seminary
  • University of Chicago
  • Denmark
  • The Great Depression and the Birth of Highlander
  • Collective Decision Making
  • Group Singing and Drama on the Front Lines of Confrontation
  • Confronting Segregation
  • The Civil Rights Movement from the Grass Roots Upward
  • The Quest for Democratic Engagement Continues
  • Conclusion
  • References
  • Chapter Eight: The Liberatory Potential and Constraint of Working-Class Rural Women’s Gender Roles within the United States (Faith Agostinone-Wilson)
  • Rural as Place and Distinctive Identity
  • Defining “Rural”
  • Post-Great Migration Policies
  • Women’s Roles
  • Redneck
  • Farmer
  • Misfit
  • Openings and Possibilities
  • Barriers and Constraints
  • Economic Factors
  • Agrarianism
  • Poverty Pride
  • Self-Sufficiency
  • Rural Patriarchy
  • Helping
  • One of the Boys
  • Domestic Violence and Reproductive Restrictions
  • Conclusion
  • References
  • Chapter Nine: Rural Spaces of Longing and Protest (Todd Alan Price)
  • Re-conceptualizing Place and Identity through Struggle: Video Curriculum
  • DNR Where Are You?
  • Blue Jeans Nation
  • Wisconsin Rural Schools Alliance
  • No Vouchers Coalition
  • Rural Democracy Struggle(s)
  • References
  • Part Three: Experiences of the Rural
  • Chapter Ten: Who Am I? Cultural Identity in Rural Schools (Priya Parmar)
  • My Story
  • Rural Education
  • Critical Multiculturalism
  • Note
  • References
  • Chapter Eleven: A Memoir of Littleville School: Identity, Community, and Rural Education in a Curriculum Study of Rural Place (Reta Ugena Whitlock)
  • Being Rural
  • Currere of the Rural
  • Selling Closure
  • Photos
  • Taking Leave
  • Conclusion
  • Coda
  • References
  • Chapter Twelve: Nowhere to Somewhere (Randy Hewitt)
  • Notes
  • References
  • Chapter Thirteen: Liberatory Consequences of Sharecropping and Rural Education in the South (Derrick M. Tennial)
  • References
  • Chapter Fourteen: Rural Education in Wisconsin (Daniel R. Paulson)
  • Our Place
  • Native American Students
  • Agriculture Education
  • One Room Schools
  • The New Rural Education
  • Tree-Stands in the Woods
  • McDonaldized Schools
  • Conclusion
  • References
  • Chapter Fifteen: Rural in a Different Caye: Listening to Early School Leavers About the Importance of Place (Bevin Etheridge)
  • Introduction to Belize
  • Education in Belize
  • Educational Policy and Current Reforms
  • My Role as Researcher
  • Imagining the Rural
  • Paradise Caye
  • Beliefs about the Purposes of School
  • Social Relations in the Community and Experiences of School
  • Conclusion
  • Notes
  • References
  • Chapter Sixteen: Dumbing Down the Fly-Over State: The Scape-Goating of Education in Oklahoma (Jennifer Job / Kristi Dickey / Susan Kirk / Justin McCrackin / Gina Morris)
  • The Framing of Education Issues along Neoliberal Lines
  • Leveraging The Mediocrity Discourse
  • Ranking Oklahoma as a “Failing” State
  • Media Reframing as Neoliberal Agenda
  • Issues Oklahoma Faces in Education
  • Reframing of the Issues to Fit an Agenda
  • Grassroots Media Pushback as Public Pedagogy
  • Conclusion: Turning Grassroots Media into Public Pedagogy
  • References
  • Chapter Seventeen: “It was the river that taught me …”: The Southern rural ecology as educative space (Rebekah Cordova, Illustrated by Erin Bowers)
  • References
  • Chapter Eighteen: A small town with long roads: Wyoming as a Post-Western curriculum (Mark Helmsing)
  • What Should You Know about Wyoming?
  • Historicizing the West
  • Identifying (with) the West
  • Shifting the West
  • References
  • Part Four: International Rural Contexts
  • Chapter Nineteen: Reconstructing the Deficit Discourse in a Multi-Remote School in far North Queensland (Jon Austin / Amelia Jenkins)
  • The Context of Australian Indigenous Education: Standardized Testing, Deficit Discourse and the “Ineducability” of Indigenous Students
  • Case Study: Rossville State School
  • The Challenge
  • Targeted and Holistic Intervention and Extension
  • Mind
  • Body
  • Spirit
  • Highly Effective Teaching and Learning
  • Explicit Teaching and Experiential Learning: A Clash of Pedagogies
  • Coaching
  • Confident, Connected and Creative Citizens
  • Confident
  • Connected
  • Creative
  • Conclusion
  • References
  • Chapter Twenty: Teaching in the Country: A Critical Analysis of the Experiences of Rural Teachers in the United States and Jamaica (Eleanor J. Blair)
  • Introduction
  • A Place Called Rural
  • Teaching in the Country: The United States
  • Teaching in the Country: Jamaica
  • Conclusion: Rural Teachers, Rural Leaders
  • References
  • Chapter Twenty-One: Learning from the Margins: A Case of Critical Community Pedagogy in Rural Thailand (Mark Vicars)
  • Introduction
  • Encounters not Interventions
  • Being Critical
  • Learning and Unlearning
  • Framing and Reframing
  • So, Where to Now?
  • References
  • Contributors
  • Series index

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List OF Illustrations


Figure 7.1 Anti-Highlander billboards were distributed across the South in 1965.

Figure 7.2 1937-Highlander Staff organizing workers at a Tennessee lime plant.

Figure 7.3 Early 1940s Zilphia Horton at a Street Rally.

Figure 7.4 Desegregation workshop at Highlander in 1955.

Figure 7.5 The early 1980s residents of Bumpas Cove, Tennessee, protested toxic dumping in their community.


Table 16.1 NAEP Rankings 2013.

Table 16.2 State Profiles: Education and Income.

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This book was developed during a period in my life when I encountered a serious health crisis. It has been delayed because of that and I wish to thank all the contributors for their marvelous contributions and patience. I managed to survive that crisis but not without the help, hope and dedication of the most important person in my life, my wife, Susan. Her daily drives, for weeks from Statesboro to the hospitals in Savannah and the hours of her steadfast care and commitment pulled me through. She is always there and I will be forever committed to her as well. I also am grateful for the support of friends and colleagues that visited me during that period and the doctors, nurses and therapists for their expertise. This book on critical studies in rural education was inspired by the forty-two years I have spent working with students in rural public schools and universities. I hope that they learned from me as much as I learned from them. My son, Matthew has served as my computer guru as I worked to submit the text. He managed to tolerate my frequent phone calls. I want to thank Chris Myers for his support of my work over the years and Shirley Steinberg who continues to support my intellectual work.


Figure 7.1 Anti-Highlander billboards were distributed across the South in 1965.

Figure 7.2 1937-Highlander Sta organizing workers at a Tennessee lime plant. ← xiii | xiv →

Figure 7.3 1940s Zilphia Horton at a Street Rally.

Figure 7.4 Desegregation workshop at Highlander in 1955.

Figure 7.5 The early 1980s residents of Bumpas Cove, Tennessee, protested toxic dumping in their community.

All photographs used with permission from the Highlander Research and Education Center Archives.

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Rural Tourist


Joe Kincheloe often referred to me as a “callous, urbane sophisticate,” ironically acknowledging that, despite my claim to urban roots, a decade and a half of my life was rural … incredibly rural. Born in Baltimore, raised in Los Angeles, at 22, my geographic center was ruptured when I married a Canadian from Southern Alberta, and moved to the epicenter of a prairie to begin my life in a town of never more than 1500 citizens.

Perhaps one of the best ways to observe an area is to be in it, but not of it. Certainly, I was not in any way “of” a rural area. But being “in” it, and as a participatory human being, I grabbed the opportunity and planned to make rural living my own. I’ve never been sure who was more culture shocked, me or those who met me; most had never seen a Jew with 99% of the population belonging to one of the town’s three Christian denominations. I’m quite positive that no one was prepared for a fast-talking, irreverent LA girl.

The town had no dry cleaners, restaurants, and few paved roads. But it had churches, it most definitely had churches. Not more than ten miles from our borders were three Hutterite colonies, small mini-towns with less than 125 German Christian inhabitants attempting to retain their beyond-rural agrarian lives. We would see them “come to town” on Mondays and Thursdays. Women with polka-dotted scarves hiding their hair, rumored to have silk lingerie tucked beneath the billowing skirts; men with straw hats and black cotton working clothes. Less than 45 minutes down the road was a Blackfoot Reserve (reservation) where Indian [sic] children were bused in at 6am to attend our elementary school. ← xv | xvi →

My first months of rural life consisted of learning to get up before 7 AM, eating porridge for breakfast, getting to know Cal at the local Post Office, and exhibiting joy and wonder when the dusty dirt roads would be oiled once a year; going to the local grocery store where Lewis would fill boxes with my food order, charge them to my account, and then bring the bounty to my house that day, putting them in the kitchen if no one was home. As part of the town doctor’s family, I was treated as new royalty, everyone knew me, the American transplant who had never been to a small town and couldn’t tell a grain elevator from a missile silo.

I learned to quilt, sitting with 3 and 4 generations of women, tying or stitching enormous quilts by hand, spending weeks binging on wedding quilts, baby buntings, our own new bed dressings. Canning every fall became a passion. Jams and vegetables, all from our garden would shine in new Mason jars after intense weeks of boiling and sealing. Not only did I bake bread, but I learned to grind my own wheat, and bought 50 Hutterite chickens each spring to bottle. I became the town’s drama/arts person, judging the annual parade, putting on plays, and creating an arts and crafts guild for women. Several years later I started the Continuing Education program, and hired women to teach aerobics, while I taught off-loom weaving and interior decorating.

A new mother, I became a La Leche League leader, and drove 2 hours to the Reserve to teach Native mothers how to nurse. I organized a group of nursing mothers to donate our milk to premature babies, someone would come by the house every day, and we would drop plastic bags into the hands of a medical worker. My breast milk donations extended to babysitting my own nieces and nephew. As four of the sisters-in-law had given birth within two months of one another, we all were filled with milk, lots of it. Within days we discovered the benefit of our bounty by rotating babysitting between us and allowing three of the four mothers to be able to go out sans new baby, sort of an auntie cum wet nurse. Nursing my all four babies created a bond, which, over thirty years later, is still strong, and often remembered between the cousins with wonder, and, a bit of shock.

With the birth of each new baby, I would be visited by scores of women at the hospital, Magi bringing clothes and diapers to me as I held court with my latest progeny. The Hutterite ladies would bring me knitted slippers, and let me smell the latest sample of the Avon cologne they kept hidden in their pockets. The Lutherans would bring frozen pierogies and cabbage rolls for my family, and the Mormons would parade in with hand tied or stitched baby quilts and receiving blankets. The doctor (my father-in-law) who delivered each of my babies would march in my private room multiple times each day, grabbing the child and bringing him/her into each patient’s room, exhibiting the latest of his growing brood.

If I needed snow shoveled or a fire built, a neighbor would send over her willing husband, and anyone who came by would stand and talk, and talk, discussing the weather, the neighbors, the latest baby, the most recent funeral. There were ← xvi | xvii → always topics to discuss, always babies being born and neighbors dying. Within five years, we built a new house bordered on all sides by my in-laws, and 3 sisters-in-law, and our combined yards were populated by plundering cousins, eventually numbering 16, all of whom ran in and out of each home with abandon.

Our children were raised by members of every home in the town. I remember our Meghann disappearing and causing me to hysterically race all over town looking for her. After two traumatic hours, the phone rang, and I was asked if I was missing a naked 3 year old who had appeared on a porch 3 blocks away. The Samaritan noted her family resemblance to cousins and grandparents and by process of elimination had a fairly easy time identifying her and returning her home safely.

Upon reaching 6, my son, Chaim, learned to ride his bike and with it gained an independence and agency that can exist only in a world where two cars on the same road at the same time was a rarity. An idyllic childhood of freedom bounded only by the railroad on one end of town and the cemetery/rodeo grounds on the other. Days were spent roaming between Pigeon Point and the Fish Pond, at a friend’s house, or climbing every tree that dared to grow within his youthful demesne. He could disappear for ten hours at time, not a worry, because inevitably someone, somewhere, would see him and report back his last known location via the mysterious, lightning speed communication network that is part backyard fence and part telephone, every small town has one.

As much as I became in the town, I continued to realize I was not of the town. I had been accepted, engaged, and respected, but was not one of them. While elbow-deep in preserves or kneading dough, I was a voyeur, a tourist. One can put the girl in the prairie, but not the prairie in the girl. Conversations were readily found, but I had to watch what I said. Keeping to the harvest, library story hours, and the occasional newcomer, I knew what not to say. The political was silent and my traditionally colorful language was buried, although the swear jar at home collected a continual stream of ice cream money. I was a dweller, but not a citizen. Homespun philosophy was pronounced by the men, town council consisted of men, church leaders were men, and women stayed home. We kept busy, but our labors were of the heart, of the hand, and we received what was given to us. I prided myself in my ability to morph into the flat, dry landscape, as a willing participant, I luxuriated in my new talents and abilities to organize and create communities. And I was always watching, figuring out my next move, and I think, wondering if anyone would call me out on my local tourism.

Within ten years, I was bored. I decided to return to university to finish my teaching degree. Two years later I became a high school drama teacher in a city about 30 minutes from town. The day I stood up and began my first class was the day I knew my tour of duty in the hinterlands of Alberta was up. And a year later, I left it all, my home, my partner, my community, and moved to the city. Within ← xvii | xviii → months I found that husbands in the town had forbade their wives to go back to university, lest they become like Shirley Steinberg, leave home and ruin their lives.

As simple as a rural life appears, the complexities within rurality are many. Isolation, inability to receive services, intimacy with many in a small area, all these themes pervade a rural existence. Education is a challenge, as it collides with the informal curriculum of one’s geographical and ideological place. This place, the rural world, is distinctly not urban, and is not like any other rural place. As un-incredible a rural existence may seem, it is steeped in the incredible. This book begins to unravel the nuanced way of life and philosophical underpinnings of rural living, it brings a critical read to an often poorly articulated state of being, of place. Bill Reynolds has gathered an eclectic collection telling rural tales, creating rural philosophy, and reminding us that often what appears most simple, is indeed, the most complicated.

Shirley R. Steinberg is Research Chair of Critical Youth Studies at the University of Calgary. She is urban.

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Forgotten Places in the New Gilded Age of Greed and Insensitivity


One in five poor children in this country lives in a rural area. Yet this group of vulnerable young Americans is seldom on the minds of the public or policy makers when they talk about child poverty in the United States. The image, rather, is overwhelmingly an urban one despite higher poverty rates in rural areas for decades.

—O’HARE (2009, P. 3)

This juxtaposition of robber-baron power and greed is rarely mentioned in the mainstream media in conjunction with the deep suffering and misery now experienced by millions of families, workers, children, jobless public servants and young people. This is especially true of a generation of youth who have become the new precariat (Standing, 2011)—a zero generation relegated to zones of social and economic abandonment and marked by zero jobs, zero future, zero hope and what Zygmunt Bauman has defined as a societal condition which is more “liquid,” (Bauman, 2007a) less defined, punitive, and, in the end, more death dealing.

—GIROUX (2013, P. 1)


The zero generation as Giroux and Bauman refer to our present society applies to those who live not only in urban and suburban areas but in rural areas as well. Add to this notion of the zero generation what some climate change activists are calling “Decade Zero” of the climate crisis: “we either change now or we lose our chance” (Herron in Klein, 2014, p. 24). There is a heighten sense of urgency to the discussions of youth and the places and environments in which they live. It is ← xix | xx → easy to forget the rural areas in countries around the world. Urban areas receive more media attention, and are covered more in scholarly publications. But, bifurcating urban and rural is a mistake that can and should be addressed. Education scholars should not set up a mistaken bifurcation between urban and rural education. Certainly there are differences as well as similarities and those should be explored. But the neoliberal agenda is not only out to privatize, corporatize and hence destroy urban and suburban schools but rural schools as well. Not only to destroy rural schools but rural places/communities too. Every aspect of education and living in general is a target for privatization, corporatization and global capitalism. These are issues that create the precariat which includes global populations. This is the multitude that Hardt and Negri discussed in both, The Multitude: War and Democracy in the Age of Empire (2004) and Commonwealth (2009).1

Those in it [precariat] have lives dominated by insecurity, uncertainty, debt and humiliation. They are becoming denizens rather than citizens, losing cultural, civil, social, political and economic rights built up over generations. The precariat is also the first class in history expected to endure labor and work at a lower level than the schooling it typically acquires. In an ever more unequal society, its relative deprivation is severe. (Standing, 2011, p. 1)

Rural schools, in the United States, served many important roles in the past as centers of social activity and social meaning. They helped to maintain local traditions in particular the identity of rural communities. In many rural areas they became community centers not only for sporting events, but for health issues and general education. Ironically in the 21st century rural schools and even to some extent rural places embody urban and suburban values and serve a globalized neoliberal economic ideology and its agenda.

The central perception of Globalization is that civilization should be seen through economics, and economics alone. If you add disease prevention or urbanization of preservation of identity (the characteristic of belonging somewhere) to a commercially driven view of human existence, you merely compound the confusion about how the world works. (Saul, 2006, p. 35)

The ruthless hunt for profit creates a world where everything and everyone is expendable. Nothing is sacred. It has blighted inner cities, turned the majestic Appalachian Mountains into a blasted moonscape of poisoned water, soil and air. (Hedges & Sacco, 2012, p. XII)

The change in rural schools can be attributed to the internet, No Child Left Behind, Race to the Top, standardized exams, Pearson publishing, curriculum, testing, centralization and ultimately as a consequence of neo-liberalism. In terms of rural communities those tasks, once the responsibility and priority of schools, churches and community groups, have been taken over in the 21st century by mega stores like Walmart, Lowes and Home Depot (Schafft & Youngblood-Jackson, 2010). Walmart has become the “community” meeting place. The stores, especially ← xx | xxi → in small communities, have taken on that role while at the same time being an agent for a wealthy family. So the role of Walmart is a meeting place and an anathema.

So the consequences of this neoliberal money obsessed ideology are horrific. As a result the goal for many rural students and rural dwellers is escape. The urge to escape has been exacerbated by the current mindset. To paraphrase a well-known 1965 song by the Animals written about urban spaces, we have to get out of this place. Rural students frequently give voice to aspirations of making it to the big city, a place to become wealthy. But, not all students in rural American schools have the dream of getting out of rural areas. There are some that are devoted to staying and spending their lives in rural places. Most individuals thinking about those that want to stay in rural communities (Bubbaland) are placing the majority of these students into a particular image, map or cartography (see Chapter 3). These students are portrayed as predominately white. These students are perceived in a stereotypical manner or with a particular identity. The men and women are stereotyped as those who dream of buying that four wheel drive, lift kit enhanced, tool box added and super-sized tired pick-up truck. Mudding that pick-up and having friends over for beer and brats on the weekends. The vision is that most of the more intelligent rural kids leave to get jobs in more affluent suburban/urban areas. That duality is not correct. Bright rural students also stay in their communities and try to make those areas better. Some even stay to work for social and racial justice in those areas. A number of students I taught in the mid-1970s still write to me and tell me of their efforts to improve their rural communities. They serve on school boards and hold other political offices in their communities. These are specific rural communities in upstate New York. As the chapters in this book demonstrate rural education in the United States is not solely a Southern circumstance. And, I would suggest, that not only are rural areas and schools an example of insensitivity in this gilded age, but that insensitivity manifests itself as ignoring the plight of students and families living in those areas world-wide. The suffering and plight of poverty in rural areas is frequently not discussed, mostly forgotten and invisible. One of the worst things you can be in this consumer age is forgotten or erased. “In the information age invisibility is tantamount to death” (Greer, 2004, p. 13). “Constant, unstoppable recommoditization is for the commodity, and so for the consumer, what metabolism is for living organisms” (Bauman, 2007b, p. 13).

It is crucial that we take a critical look at rural education not only in the United States but internationally to understand the necessity of analyzing the class, race, gender, LGBTQ, issues involved in rural schooling and its environment as the authors do in this book. To assist as part of a movement that has as its goal alleviating that suffering and deconstructing neoliberal ideology. Not only rural schooling should be analyzed specifically but its relationship to rural culture and the ways in which media contributes to and forms people’s understandings and views of the rural. The internet/cell phone culture has changed the reality of rural life. The stereotypical “backward,” out of touch “country bumpkin” is in the 21st century even more ridiculous. Dwellers in remote areas have the ability (maybe more limited) to buy stuff on Amazon just like the rest of us. In the United States the stereotypical picture of the rural citizen, however, is still that portrayed by reality television such as Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, Swamp People, Lizard Lick Towing and Recovery, and Trick My Trucker.


XXVI, 362
ISBN (Softcover)
ISBN (Hardcover)
Publication date
2017 (July)
New York, Bern, Berlin, Bruxelles, Frankfurt am Main, Oxford, Wien, 2017. XXVI, 362 pp., 5 b/w ill., 2 tables

Biographical notes

William M. Reynolds (Volume editor)

William M. Reynolds received his Ed.D. in curriculum theory from the University of Rochester. Dr. Reynolds teaches in the Department of Curriculum, Foundations, and Reading at Georgia Southern University. He has authored, co-authored, edited, or co-edited numerous books, including Expanding Curriculum Theory: Dispositions and Lines of Flight (second edition, 2016), Practicing Critical Pedagogy: The Influences of Joe L. Kincheloe (2016), Critical Studies of Southern Place: A Reader (2014) and A Curriculum of Place: Understandings Emerging through the Southern Mist (2013). He has also published numerous articles and chapters on issues of curriculum, critical pedagogy, politics and cultural studies.


Title: Forgotten Places