In Defense Of JD Vance

The selection of Senator JD Vance as Donald Trump’s vice presidential candidate on July 15^th, 2024, caused fervor of interest in the thirty-nine year old Ohioan and author of Hillbilly Elegy (2016). Many on the Right see in Vance a smart and energetic supporter (and former critic) of the former president. Others, on the left, see a Yale educated white man who betrayed his working-class roots. Some, including Senator Chris Murphy, who see Vance as a dangerous proponent of white Christian Nationalism:

He talks a good game, but if you’re really listening to him, he is being picked in part because he is going to help shape this transition away from democratic norms, this transition to a white, patriarchal, Christian-dominated nation, something that’s very different than the nation that many of us have thought we have been a part of this many years.

Moreover, some progressive Catholics see Vance much the same way as Senator Murphy. Conservative Catholics, like me, see a kindred spirit, as Vance himself joined the Catholic Church in 2019. However, what I personally see in Vance, and what many commentators cannot (or will not) see, is someone reflective of my own story, although his turned out far more successful.

Allow me to explain.

The Working Poor

Like Vance, I grew up a member of the working poor (otherwise known as white trash). My family drifted between feast and famine on a regular basis. Good years were few and far between. Good years also meant a family of five (with two girls and one boy) living in a two-bedroom apartment. I, as the only boy, had to share a room with my two sisters. My father, a high school educated Vietnam veteran, possessed a strong work ethic and an equally strong drinking problem. He also worked second shift (3 PM to 11 PM) most of my young life. This meant that I only saw him on the weekends. Weekends were also when he drank heavily.

My father left it to my mother to “take care of the kids.” She, unable or uninterested, spent most of her time in bed. My parents divorced in 1988 after sixteen years of marriage (with many separations and continuous moves in between). My father got sole custody of my sister and I after that. This did provide a few years of continued stability as I finished high school.

Thank God for my grandfather’s support during those years. He provided constant financial support and a place to stay when things became the most chaotic.

The Uneducated Poor

Also, like Vance, I did not take my education very seriously until late in high school. My upbringing many would consider laissez-faire, as my parents left me to my own devices. The most extreme example of this was when I skipped my entire 7^th grade year. My father, in a rare moment of direct parenting up to that point, sat me down and told me I would repeat the grade. Not surprisingly, and due to this lack of structure, I was placed in special education.

In truth, I could barely read or write. At the beginning of my eighth-grade year, the school counselor decided to test me. The results were very confusing. In reading and writing, I tested well below grade level. In Math, the same results. However, in general knowledge, I tested far above grade level. The counselor determined that my lack of academic progress was not due to my natural intelligence. She challenged me to use my natural intelligence to “catch-up” and promised me I could join the regular eighth-grade Reading and English classes in the second part of the year if I showed real progress. Math took a bit longer. True to her word, after months of hard work, I joined my classmates as planned.

Jesus Saved my Life

In a past article, I wrote about my faith journey. I mention it here to reiterate the transformative role Christianity played in my life. Until I encountered Christ, my life appeared on a trajectory of pain and loneliness with no hope in sight, a trajectory shared by many in my family (sadly). In Christ, God saved me, gave me hope, and renewed my whole person: body, mind, and soul. God also placed Christians in my life to help me develop some of the skills lacking in my laissez-faire upbringing. For example, helping to clean up after a group meal and the value of volunteerism. God continuously brought excellent examples of Christian families into my life.

The Scars Remain Long After the Wound Heals

Moreover, despite whatever success I experience in my career, family, and faith community, I still bear the scars of my youth. In his book, a book I honestly avoided until recently, JD talks about his tendency to either fight or flee as a protection mechanism learned early in childhood. I, too, share these tendencies, especially the desire to flee. To flee from poverty, to flee from neglect, to flee from a father who became a mean drunk on the weekends. Into my fifth decade of life, I still bear the scars of my youth. Scars I share with JD Vance.