Lessons From Lockport
Now available from SUNY Press
A writer’s close-up learnings about the great American divide, and the bridges across it.
A long-time progressive activist and writer moves to a small working class town in the conservative northwest corner of New York state. He becomes a weekly opinion columnist for the city’s 200-year-old daily newspaper. His columns force light into the dark corners of local politics and provoke local debate over national issues from guns to climate change. Dozens of people begin to speak to him about his columns – in stores, on the street, in bars, in playgrounds and beyond. His columns also spark fierce debate in a community Facebook group that includes almost everyone in town. The result is an up-close education about what makes small town America tick, just as small towns like this one are driving a national political rebellion of working class conservatism. Told through stories that will entertain readers as well as make them think, the book offers a unique look at one of the most misunderstood corners of American culture.
Reviews
"Through the skillful use of personal stories, and interviews with his friends and neighbors in a small conservative town in New York, Jim Shultz opens a window into the hopes, dreams, and fears of those across the 'political divide.' This book reintroduces us to each other and shows us a commonsense path forward...together." — Former Oregon Governor John Kitzhaber
"For seven years a small-town newspaper columnist, Jim Shultz the newcomer to Lockport, New York, slowly built a following as he explored the culture and the simmering issues of a weathered but proud Rust Belt community. Jim's probing of issues at every level has shown that people on so-called opposite ends of the spectrum actually have a lot in common. And, really, that’s what Lessons from Lockport boils down to." — Joyce Miles, editor of the Lockport Union-Sun & Journal
"Written by an observant progressive writer of op-eds in the newspaper of a small, Republican town in Western New York, this book takes you out of your bubble, whatever that is. Shultz gives us local issues—facial recognition technology in public schools, renewable energy, a police killing of a black man—seen through local eyes. He helps us like the people we disagree with. Memorable." — Arlie Russell Hochschild, author of Stolen Pride: Loss, Shame and the Rise of the Right
From the Prologue
The bar was packed. It was a Saturday night in late Spring and the western New York crowd was still giddy about being out and about after a long winter. It was a working class bar where pickups in the parking lot were plentiful and a rock and roll band on stage belted out hits from the 1970s, 80s, and 90s.
“Hey, are you that guy who writes for the newspaper?”
The man with the dark shaggy hair and a beard to match showed up suddenly at my side. I got asked this question so often at this point that I had a standard response at the ready. “Do you like that guy who writes for the paper?” This always left room open for a denial if it seemed needed. That night though, two drinks in, I just went for a straight up admission. “Yes I am.”
“I disagree with almost everything you write. But I think you are honest.”
That began a ten-minute soliloquy that ran through the misdeeds of Joe Biden, the general decline of the nation and assorted complaints about the sins that Democrats and liberals were inflicting on the country. I listened. When he hit his grievances over inflation I couldn’t disagree with his anger. “I’m a plumber. I make $29 hour and I can’t afford anything anymore,” he told me.
Then he landed on an issue that took me aback. “The transgenders! They are everywhere! They are shoving it down our throats.” I decided on this one that I would dig a little deeper.
“Wait, how do transgender people affect your life in any way at all?”
“They are all over. They are all over the mainstream media. It’s all we hear about now.”
I added a note to my ever-growing list of political lessons gleaned from living in this small town. The clever right wing pundits who had recently made all things transgender their new target for attack had scored a double victory. Not only did it serve up a fresh subject of outrage to boost their viewership, it also left those viewers with the impression that it was transgender people making all the noise rather than their attackers.
Soon afterwards my conversation companion moved on amicably and I turned my attention back to my family, my drink, and the band.
It wasn’t long after that when another man spotted me, this time from the other side of the bar. He was big, built like one of the trucks out back. His hair was close cropped and he had a long bushy brown beard. His look at me was intense and he was heading quickly in my direction through the crowd. He came so close to my face that he didn’t have to raise his voice by much for me to hear him over a loud Rolling Stones cover. He leaned in, grabbed my hand and told me, “I love everything you write man.” Then he walked on without any further introduction or comment.
Much has been written in recent years about the dividing of America into sheltered enclaves of the like-minded. Liberals live with liberals in the big cities along the coasts and in affluent suburbs. Conservatives have hunkered down with conservatives in the small towns and wide open rural spaces in between. We increasingly live our lives in comfortable echo chambers of political and social compatibility, not only in the media we consume but in the neighbors who surround us.
I do not have that problem.
