From Recovery to Reconnection: How Rural Communities Help People Move from Surviving to Living and Thriving Posted on June 5, 2026June 5, 2026 by Rachelle Kuehl By Jon Dance June 8, 2026 Photos courtesy of the author Cover photo: Recovery happens through connection. During Appalachian Save a Life Day, community partners across Virginia’s New River Valley provided free naloxone education and distribution, helping strengthen local recovery, prevention, and wellness efforts. Pictured are Jon Dance and Erika Slagel-Perry, MPH, Education and Training Coordinator with the New River Valley Regional Commission. When people hear that I live and work in Southwest Virginia, they sometimes assume we are tucked away from the rest of the world. Rural places are often described that way, as if they sit on the margins of innovation and opportunity. What many people do not see is that communities like the New River Valley are places where care, resilience, and creativity show up every day. They are also the places that saved my life. My understanding of recovery and community did not begin in a classroom. It began through addiction, recovery, and the long process of rebuilding a life. For many years, alcohol controlled my life. Like many people struggling with addiction, I convinced myself that I could manage it. I told myself I was still functioning. I was still working. I was still showing up. Eventually, that illusion collapsed. My sobriety date is September 14, 2020. Before that, my addiction had reached a point where my body and mind could no longer keep up with the damage I was doing. I experienced severe withdrawal and hallucinations that made it clear something had to change. I entered treatment three times in less than a year and a half. Two of those stays happened only about six weeks apart before recovery finally began to take hold. A photo from my last trip to Mount Regis, September 2020 Recovery did not happen because I suddenly became stronger or more disciplined. It happened because people showed up. Counselors, peers, mentors, and community members created the conditions that made healing possible. They provided the access, resources, and support I needed for my healing, growth, and recovery journey. That experience changed the way I understand both addiction and recovery. For decades, we have talked about addiction using language that focuses almost entirely on the individual. People say someone could quit drinking. Someone could turn their life around. Someone could do better if they wanted to. That framing quietly places the full responsibility on the person who is struggling. It ignores the environments that shape what is actually possible. When people have access to support, relationships, resources, and practical skills, the conversation shifts from “could” to “can”. That shift has become central to how I think about recovery, education, and community well-being. After entering recovery, I returned to Virginia Tech to finish my undergraduate degree in Human Development. That return to campus became a turning point in my life. It was at the Virginia Tech Recovery Community, often called the VTRC, where my journey shifted from simply being sober to truly living in recovery. At my very first VTRC meeting, I learned that recovery is more than the absence of substance use. It is the presence of sustained, consistent action to improve all aspects of our lives. Recovery includes improved well being, becoming a better person, living in positive community with others, finding meaning and purpose, and being of service to those around us. That definition expanded my understanding of what recovery could look like. Recovery was not simply about stopping destructive behavior. It was about rebuilding a life with purpose, connection, and service to others. After completing my undergraduate degree, I continued my education by pursuing a Master of Public Health with a focus on community health promotion and equity. That work eventually led me back to Virginia Tech as a doctoral student in the School of Education and a Graduate Assistant with the Center for Rural Education, where I now study how communities support people through difficult moments through wellness, resilience, and learning. Rural communities have long practiced forms of care that researchers are only beginning to name. Mutual aid, peer support, and community responsibility are woven into the daily life of many small towns. In rural schools, teachers are rarely just educators. They are mentors, advocates, and sometimes lifelines for students navigating complicated lives. Presentation with Dr. Josh Thompson at the National Forum to Advance Rural Education, October 2025 Over time, I stopped seeing rural communities as places lacking resources and began seeing them as places rich in relationships. Those relationships form a kind of social infrastructure that shapes whether people feel supported, how much students are able to learn, and whether individuals struggling with addiction find a path back to stability. One of the most meaningful tools I encountered along this journey was the Community Resiliency Model developed by Elaine Miller Karas of The Trauma Resource Institute, often called CRM. Erica Berry Coates, LCSW, at Virginia Tech’s Cook Counseling Center, first introduced me to this approach. CRM teaches simple body-based skills that help people recognize and regulate stress in their nervous systems. These skills help people return to what we call the flow zone, a state where the body and mind are stable enough to think clearly, learn, and connect with others. In many ways, CRM teaches something our education system rarely addresses. Most of us spend years learning how to read books, write essays, and solve equations. Very few of us are taught how to read our own nervous systems. I call that ability regulation literacy. When people understand what stress feels like in their bodies and learn simple ways to stabilize themselves, everything changes. Students are better able to focus. Teachers gain tools for navigating difficult classroom moments. People in recovery develop practical skills that help them move through emotional stress without returning to harmful patterns. Students use these skills before major exams. Teachers rely on them after challenging days in the classroom. Community members apply them in recovery groups, hospitals, workplaces, and with friends and family. The tools are simple, but the impact can be powerful. One of the most important lessons recovery taught me is that healing rarely happens alone. Recovery is relational. People heal in connection with others and in communities that create space for honesty, accountability, and support. This understanding has shaped both my research and my community work. My work explores how relational care and resilience practices can strengthen rural education systems and support recovery and wellness across communities. Rural Recovery Ecosystems presentation with CRE Director Amy Price Azano, March 2026 Connecting with students (and the Hokie Bird!) on the drillfield Over the past several years, I have worked with schools, community colleges, recovery organizations, and community groups across Southwest Virginia. In each place, I heard the same need expressed in different ways. People were looking for spaces where they could slow down, reconnect with themselves, and learn practical tools for navigating stress and life challenges. That realization eventually led to the creation of The Re.Center NRV. The Re.Center NRV is a community-based wellness initiative rooted here in the New River Valley. Its goal is to create accessible spaces where people can explore recovery, resilience, and connection without stigma. Through peer recovery support, wellness coaching, community workshops, and partnerships with local organizations, the work focuses on helping individuals and communities build practical skills that support long-term well-being. In many ways, The Re.Center represents the culmination of my own journey. Recovery showed me the importance of connection. Education helped me understand systems and communities. Rural life reminded me that people are strongest when they show up for one another. The Re.Center brings those lessons together. If there is one message I hope people take away from this story, it is that rural communities have much to teach us. The same places often described as lacking resources are also places where people quietly practice forms of care that strengthen entire communities. Recovery support. Mutual aid. Peer relationships. Schools that serve as anchors for families, neighborhoods, and entire communities. Recovery, education, and community resilience are not separate conversations here. They are part of the same ecosystem. When communities invest in relationships, support systems, and practical skills for navigating stress, people begin to move from simply surviving to truly living. Sometimes, the places the world overlooks are already building the solutions we need most. Jon Dance is a doctoral candidate in the School of Education at Virginia Tech and a graduate assistant with the Center for Rural Education. He holds a Master of Public Health, is a Certified Peer Recovery Specialist, and is the founder of The Re.Center NRV, a community-based wellness initiative focused on recovery, resilience, and connection. Jon also serves as co-chair of Montgomery County Prevention Partners and supports the New River Valley Lived Experience Network, working to strengthen recovery and community well-being across Southwest Virginia.
