WV – Unhappiest State in America

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  • #18978
    Avatar photowv
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    For the 6th year in a row (a record)
    West, by God, Almost-Heaven, Virginia was ranked the Unhappiest
    State in the Nation.

    Alaska was evaluated as the Happiest.

    http://www.slate.com/blogs/the_slatest/2015/02/19/alaska_the_happiest_state_west_virginia_the_saddest.html

    America’s Happiest and Saddest States Are Mirror Images of Each Other

    By Ben Mathis-Lilley

    The polling outfit Gallup and a company called Healthways have released state-by-state results of a survey into what they call “well-being,” which, as defined, also might be described as self-reported happiness—and it turns out that the happiest and unhappiest states in the country have a lot in common.

    The survey results cover “176,702 interviews with U.S. adults” on their feelings about five aspects of life satisfaction. In the words of the report, those five areas are:

    Liking what you do each day and being motivated to achieve your goals
    Having supportive relationships and love in your life
    Managing your economic life to reduce stress and increase security
    Liking where you live, feeling safe and having pride in your community
    Having good health and enough energy to get things done daily

    Using a “composite rank” of those factors, America’s best-scoring state on the well-being index is a mountainous area with few urban centers and an economy reliant on the extraction of fossil fuels—Alaska. And America’s worst-scoring state is a mountainous area with few urban centers and an economy reliant on the extraction of fossil fuels—West Virginia.

    What might explain the difference in life satisfaction between the two states? One obvious possibility is the relative status of coal and oil. According to this report, West Virginia and Alaska are two of the country’s three most mining-reliant states (as measured by the sector’s percentage of their state GDPs; the third is Wyoming)—and while Alaska’s mining operations revolve around the relatively healthy oil industry, West Virginia is in the heart of coal country. And the coal business is not great right now. From a 2014 West Virginia University study:

    Coal continues to face serious long-term obstacles, both in supply and end-user demand, particularly in the power-generation sector. Productivity at the nation’s coal mines has been falling for more than a decade and this trend is expected to continue as more easily-mined reserves are exhausted. On the demand side, natural gas prices fell to near-record lows in 2012, which caused a temporary shift away from coal as fuel for power generation. As natural gas prices have risen again, coal generation has recovered, but the long-term outlook for coal-fired generation remains uncertain given recent trends in natural gas production and proposed changes in the regulatory environment for coal-fired power plants.

    (Coal plants are a major target of the Obama administration’s environmental policies.)

    As it happens, the Atlantic just published an excellent piece, titled “The Sickest Town in America,” about how the economy of a coal town can radiate out into problems with physical and mental health. The Atlantic’s profile is actually about Grundy, Virginia—but Grundy is just miles from southern West Virginia, the area of the state that has been affected most negatively by coal’s decline. (Grundy is also just over the border from Kentucky, which is the second-unhappiest state, according to Gallup/Healthways). Writes Olga Khazan:

    The economy is built on physically grueling jobs. An injury causes pain, which causes depression. Depression makes it harder to work. People gain weight. The weight gain leads to sleep apnea and sometimes to diabetes. Diabetes can exacerbate vision problems … people self-medicate with prescription painkillers, alcohol, and tobacco. Eventually, said Smiddy, the pulmonologist, “they become dysfunctional. They’re weaving behind the car. They’re setting the stove on fire. It’s not that they’re bad people. They’re probably faith-based people, family people. Most are just trying to function.”

    Khazan’s piece is largely about disabled workers rather than unemployed workers, and Alaska and West Virginia actually have similar rates of unemployment. She observes, though, that disability payments can act as a kind of long-term unemployment benefit even though its recipients are technically not unemployed—and rates of disability are very high in coal-reliant areas. Meanwhile, joblessness undermines the exact kinds of feelings of well-being that Gallup/Healthworks are measuring:

    “Whatever the job, it can give a sense of belonging, of being a contributor; an important part, however menial, of an organization with a bigger purpose, a valued part of society,” wrote Tom Fryers, a visiting professor of public health at the University of Leicester in the U.K., in a recent paper. “Work can provide a structure for the day, week, and year without which life just drifts by.”

    The next-happiest states in the survey, after Alaska: Hawaii, South Dakota, Montana, and Wyoming. The least happy, along with West Virginia and Kentucky: Indiana, Ohio, and Mississippi. All of the 10 states with the highest well-being are west of the Mississippi River. None of the 10 states with the lowest well-being is any further west than Missouri.

    #18979
    Avatar photowv
    Participant

    ==============================
    The Atlantic
    http://www.theatlantic.com/features/archive/2015/01/life-in-the-sickest-town-in-america/384718/
    Sickest Town in America

    I drove from one of the healthiest counties in the country to the least-healthy, both in the same state. Here’s what I learned about work, well-being, and happiness.

    Olga Khazan

    Donald Rose has no teeth, but that’s not his biggest problem. A camouflage hat droops over his ancient, wire-framed glasses. He’s only 43, but he looks much older.

    I met him one day in October as he sat on a tan metal folding chair in the hallway of Riverview School, one of the few schools—few buildings, really—in the coal-mining town of Grundy, Virginia. That day it was the site of a free clinic, the Remote Area Medical. Rose was there to get new glasses—he’s on Medicare, which doesn’t cover most vision services.

    Remote Area Medical was founded in 1985 by Stan Brock, a 79-year-old Brit who wears a tan Air-Force-style uniform and formerly hosted a nature TV show called Wild Kingdom. Even after he spent time in the wilds of Guyana, Brock came to the conclusion that poor Americans needed access to medical care about as badly as the Guyanese did. Now Remote Area Medical holds 20 or so packed clinics all over the country each year, providing free checkups and services to low-income families who pour in from around the region.

    When I pulled into the school parking lot, someone was sleeping in the small yellow car in the next space, fast-food wrappers spread out on the dashboard. Inside, the clinic’s patrons looked more or less able-bodied. Most of the women were overweight, and the majority of the people I talked to were missing some of their teeth. But they were walking and talking, or shuffling patiently along the beige halls as they waited for their names to be called. There weren’t a lot of crutches and wheelchairs.

    Yet many of the people in the surrounding county, Buchanan, derive their income from Social Security Disability Insurance, the government program for people who are deemed unfit for work because of permanent physical or mental wounds. Along with neighboring counties, Buchanan has one of the highest percentages of adult disability recipients in the nation, according to a 2014 analysis by the Urban Institute’s Stephan Lindner. Nearly 20 percent of the area’s adult residents received government SSDI benefits in 2011, the most recent year Lindner was able to analyze.

    According to Lindner’s calculations, five of the 10 counties that have the most people on disability are in Virginia—and so are four of the lowest, making the state an emblem of how wealth and work determine health and well-being. Six hours to the north, in Arlington, Fairfax, and Loudoun Counties, just one out of every hundred adults draws SSDI benefits. But Buchanan county is home to a shadow economy of maimed workers, eking out a living the only way they can—by joining the nation’s increasingly sizable disability rolls. “On certain days of the month you stay away from the post office,” says Priscilla Harris, a professor who teaches at the Appalachian School of Law in Grundy, “because that’s when the disability checks are coming in.”
    But if this place has the scenery of the Belgian Ardennes, it has the health statistics of Bangladesh.

    Just about everyone I spoke with at the Grundy clinic was a former manual worker, or married to one, and most had a story of a bone-crushing accident that had left them (or their spouse) out of work forever. For Rose, who came from the nearby town of Council, that day came in 1996, when he was pinned between two pillars in his job at a sawmill. He suffered through work until 2001, he told me, when he finally started collecting “his check,” as it’s often called. He had to go to a doctor to prove that he was truly hurting—he has deteriorating discs, he says, and chronic back pain. He was turned down twice, he thinks because he was just 30 years old at the time. Now the government sends him a monthly check for $956.

    Each classroom at Riverview School had a different specialist tucked inside—in one, an optometrist measured eyes with her chart projected on the classroom wall. She showed me a picture she took in a nearby town of a man who, unable to afford new glasses and rapidly losing eyesight, had taped a stray plastic lens over his existing glasses. The clinic had brought along two glasses-manufacturing RVs where technicians could make patients like Rose a fresh set of glasses, including frames, in just a few hours.

    As for his teeth? Rose’s diabetes loosened them. “They went ahead and pulled them all,” he said. He assured me that being toothless was not as grave a life-change as the toothed might imagine it to be.

    “I can still eat a steak, trust me,” he says. “I use my tongue and my gums.” … see link for rest of article…

    ================
    top ten, bottom ten
    http://www.well-beingindex.com/alaska-leads-u.s.-states-in-well-being-for-first-time

    • This reply was modified 9 years, 9 months ago by Avatar photowv.
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