In December of 2023, just before the holidays, my mother informed me that my distant cousin, Ny’Asia, was killed. Her mother’s boyfriend, who was hopped up on drugs, burst into her aunt’s house in Bluefield, WV– shooting both her and her aunt, then killing himself. Her aunt survived along with her younger sister, my cousin, My’Asia, who was able to flee the scene. Ny’Asia was 11 years-old.
I stared at the pixels on my phone screen that formed my cousin’s glowing, innocent face in an article about the murder-sucide. Feelings of sadness and helplessness flooded my mind as I thought about her family.
I never met Ny’Asia. Being distant relatives, there was never a chance. But despite never knowing her, this tragedy struck me because it reminded me of my privilege. Growing up in North Carolina, I always had distance from the geographical disparity residing in West Virginia provides. I have never had to experience the pain of losing a parent or sibling or child. I have never had to endure the consequences of a parent or siblings or childs’ opioid addiction. I have never suffered through an opioid addiction myself.
Despite never having to face these obstacles, throughout my entire life I witnessed my cousins grapple with the effects. Hearing about Ny’Asia’s death rekindled my already existing passion to get the message out to Americans in other parts of the country who are unaware of the pain that persists in West Virginia.
The pain my family has gone through was the hardest part of the project. The damage caused by the opioid epidemic specifically is still very fresh and getting in the mindstate to conduct interviews with them on such hard topics was a mental obstacle in itself. Along with that obstacle was another: getting myself to ask the hard questions. But I had to face the truth head on even if it was in such a personal light. I realized, however, I was talking to people who I love and care about. They wanted to help me out and they wanted to speak on these subjects for others to better understand what has happened in West Virginia. In my head, I thought my family would be extremely hesitant to open up about these topics because we don’t dig deep into these realities very often. But, to my surprise, they were much more open to talking about the hard stuff. Just like me, they want people to understand that what has happened in West Virginia can happen anywhere, to anyone in any community.
Having to narrow down the amount of information and circumstances in which my family has undergone examples of corporate abuse and dependency in their history of living in West Virginia was a huge challenge. There is such a long history of neglect by coal mining corporations alone that exemplify my family’s generational exploitation that I could not even begin to scratch the surface on in this project. Although I focused more on the opioid epidemic, both the coal and drug industries have made lasting generational impacts in my family that I will continue to explore. Someday I will write a book or make a documentary on the topic.
Something I am really appreciative about is getting the opportunity to execute scholarly research on the issues that have impacted my family so greatly. Through completing an honors project, an emerging theme has been deeper appreciation for my higher education. On my mother’s side, my grandpa, Pete “Papa” Chiericozzi, was a first generation college student. On my father’s side, my dad, Brett Hively, was the first to get a college degree. My maternal grandpa and my dad both graduated from Marshall University in Huntington, WV. It is through their education and funding that leads me to where I am today, in Boulder, CO, seeking a journalism degree.
This project made me realize having deep roots in West Virginia is a huge part of why I am the way I am. Values placed in family, individuality and a strong work ethic are not coincidental I now know. The people who raised me, my parents and grandparents, hold these values as well and their values stem from a culture rooted in working hard and being grateful for every opportunity you are given.
My family members do not show disdain being from West Virginia, in fact, they are grateful and proud of their background rooted in a hard-earned living. I think my grandpa describes it well when he refers to his upbringing on the coal camp. “It’s really a question of: Do you appreciate your circumstances? Or do you resent them? And dad and mom taught us to appreciate our situation no matter where we are,” Papa says. “We’re [Papa and his siblings] not down in the mouth people, you know. We’re upbeat and positive. We like to do things. But, we also know we have responsibility.”
According to my grandpa, his father Savino believed he owed everything to the United States. Even though he said to all his children that none of them would be allowed to undergo a career in the mines, he emphasized that immigrating to America gave him shelter, a career and a family. This overwhelming sense of responsibility to take advantage of opportunity was passed from my great grandpa, to my grandpa, to my mother, and then to me. On my father’s side it was the same. My grandpa Thomas Berman Hively, who I called “Papaw,” was a coal miner. His dad Robert Edward Hively, my great grandpa, worked two jobs as both a coal miner and a teacher. Papaw dedicated his life to providing for his family, a quality learned by his father and passed down to his sons– my dad and my uncle Tommy.
My most recurring memory of Papaw is us sitting on the squeaky porch swing at my grandparents’ trailer home deep in the Greenbrier Valley, him holding the daily paper in one hand with his “No Farm No Food” mug in the other. Being a union man, he always emphasized worker’s rights. He taught me the importance of hard work and the workers themselves. This idea of generational diligence is what connects my personal inspiration and drive to work for every opportunity handed to me.
I am grateful to see this passion reflected in my work. I feel that I owe my circumstances and values to my deep-seeded family roots in West Virginia. It is a state that has always provided me a sense of comfort, familiarity and belonging more so than my home state in North Carolina. Summers spent deep in the mountains far from cell service, and Christmases spent in Chesapeake surrounded by my loving family, always provided an indescribable sense of solace. It is through the sacrifices of my parents, their parents and the generations who came before, who made their living in West Virginia, that I owe every circumstance that brought me where I am today.
I hope to see West Virginia uplifted in the future. I look forward to the state being fully recognized for its beauty as it turns to the tourism industry. I am optimistic its people will be respected for what they have been through and that my project will represent them in a meaningful, educational light. My biggest intention for the project was to spread awareness on the issues that afflict West Virginians by putting names to faces, real people to the disheartening statistics of overdose and job loss. My expectation is that my project will help Americans in other parts of the country better interpret where they are coming from so West Virginians are not further misunderstood by outsiders. I anticipate my family’s stories will gain the recognition they deserve by prompting others to understand the historical hardship leading up to the present day struggles of West Virginians. I hope that, after examining the topics discussed in my project, it will be apparent that their current conditions– struggling with the consequences of addiction and economic devastation– did not arise from nowhere. They come from a prolonged history of corporate abuse and neglect that has existed for generations, in my family and others, since West Virginia reached statehood and coal mining began.