How to define Southwest Virginia? Here’s one way, and it’s probably controversial

A warning for those with high blood pressure, anger management issues or itchy trigger fingers on social media: Today I’m going to deal with a controversial topic.

No, not the anticipated recount in the John McGuire-Bob Good 5th District Republican congressional primary, or the legal challenge to the Republican city council primary in Lynchburg, or even anything dealing with Joe Biden and Donald Trump. Today I’m going to ask what seems a very simple question, but which is, in reality, a landmine: How should we define Southwest Virginia?

Defining the different regions of Virginia is a task that seems easy but is, in reality, fraught with peril.

When I was growing up, back when dinosaurs roamed the land, we were taught that the cities around where the James River empties into the Chesapeake Bay were called Tidewater. Today, Hampton Roads is the preferred appellation. Apparently Tidewater sounds too swampy.

Some in Southside have tried to change the nomenclature to Southern Virginia, although others insist that Southside is a perfectly good name and doesn’t need to be changed. When we were launching Cardinal, there was some debate over whether to refer to Southside or Southern Virginia in our catchphrase. I polled some politicians I know in that part of the state and was told, quite emphatically, that it was Southside — and that the business leaders pushing Southern Virginia were wrong.

I won’t even get started on Central Virginia, something that both Lynchburg and Richmond claim. By definition, they can’t both be Central Virginia. Lynchburg can claim Central Virginia Community College, but Richmond television station WWBT brands itself as “Central Virginia News and Weather,” as well as a long list of other organizations with the Central Virginia name, from the Central Virginia Dance Academy to the Central Virginia Transportation Authority. Of course, the real center of Virginia isn’t in either place; it’s at Mount Rush in Buckingham County. To fully list all the parts of the state we cover, we’d need a lot more words than can fit on a logo.

As for Southwest Virginia, you’d think that would be simple, but it’s not. Some places are clearly Southwest Virginia: Big Stone Gap? Of course. Bristol. Oh, yeah. Wytheville. Sure. Blacksburg? Roanoke? Umm, let me get back to you on that.

As with many things, the controversy is around the edges. In the case of Southwest Virginia, some of those edges are quite clear: The state defines the border for much of Southwest Virginia. The tricky part is how far north and east Southwest Virginia goes. The state line doesn’t help us much there.

Let’s start with Roanoke. Is Roanoke in Southwest Virginia?

I’ve heard lots of politicians — all from points much further east — refer to Roanoke as being in Southwest Virginia. Those much farther to the west find that infuriating. It’s a four-hour-plus drive from Roanoke to the Cumberland Gap. If you’re coming south from Northern Virginia, Roanoke is about halfway to the Cumberland Gap — so maybe Roanoke is Central Virginia. Politicians who think that a visit to Roanoke checks off their Southwest Virginia box haven’t unfolded the rest of their map.

Ultimately, a lot of these definitions aren’t simply geographical, they’re cultural. I’ve lived in the Roanoke Valley for more than four decades, and I feel safe in saying that the Roanoke Valley doesn’t really consider itself to be part of Southwest Virginia — at least not the same Southwest Virginia that those farther west do. Years ago, when the Appalachian Regional Commission was being created, Roanoke didn’t want any part of that — “Appalachian” was considered a pejorative. The Roanoke Valley definitely doesn’t consider itself Appalachian; many of those localities farther west sure do. You can certainly argue that Roanoke ought to consider itself to be at least on the edge of Appalachia. But mostly, Roanoke thinks of itself as, well, the Roanoke Valley. If regions were families, the Roanoke Valley and Southwest Virginia would certainly be cousins, maybe even siblings, but still quite different. If you’re from outside the region and you say that someone from the Roanoke Valley is from Southwest Virginia, they won’t correct you. They may even identify with that, at some level. But those from farther west will get riled up at the notion that the Roanoke Valley is part of Southwest Virginia.

All this would seem to make things simple. If the Roanoke Valley isn’t part of Southwest Virginia, then we just have to go west of Roanoke to get there, right?

Not so fast.

I’ve heard a former county supervisor in Alleghany County refer to the Alleghany Highlands as being part of Southwest Virginia. In a recent commentary piece in Cardinal News, Ferrum College President Mirta Martin said her Franklin County school is in Southwest Virginia. The Alleghany Highlands are north of the Roanoke Valley, which we just said isn’t properly a part of Southwest Virginia. Franklin County is east of the Blue Ridge. How can they be part of Southwest?

The answer is above: It’s a cultural thing.

What about the New River Valley? That’s complicated, too, and it might depend on which part of the New River Valley you’re talking about.

Why rely on my impressions, though? Let’s see what others say. For that I went to the most all-knowing source on the planet: Google. Google’s AI overview shows why we shouldn’t rely on artificial intelligence answers. Google’s AI tool says that Southwest Virginia is “located west of Roanoke and north of the New River, and includes the counties of Buchanan, Dickenson, Lee, Russell, Scott, Tazewell, and Wise, as well as the city of Norton. The region also includes the cities of Bristol, Galax, and Martinsville.”

That’s a lot to unpack. First, Google’s geography is simply wrong. To be “west of Roanoke and north of the New River” you’d be in Montgomery County, Radford and parts of Giles County, and not much else. Yet somehow Google AI says some counties clearly south of the New River are in Southwest Virginia — that’s true, but it also leaves out a whole bunch of them. Google AI is simply not to be trusted. Maybe someday, but not today.

Notice, too, that it also includes a locality east of the Blue Ridge — Martinsville. Is Martinsville part of Southwest Virginia? Same as with Franklin County: Call in the philosophers for that one.

Wikipedia — if you believe in that sort of thing — is equally contradictory. It includes a map of Southwest Virginia that goes as far north as Alleghany County, Botetourt County and Bedford County but then, in the text, includes Buena Vista and Lexington. Lexington is definitely not Southwest Virginia. It’s far more likely to identify as being in the Shenandoah Valley, although that’s a cultural, and not a geographical, definition as well, since the Maury River flows through Lexington and it’s part of the James River basin, not the Shenandoah.

To some extent, all these definitions are a state of mind.

You’ll recall that earlier this year a journalist in Richmond made a dismissive reference to “whatever the hell is west of Roanoke” — which might also suffice as a rough definition of Southwest Virginia. My defense of “whatever the hell is west of Roanoke” brought me an invite to speak at the Southwest Virginia Economic Forum at the University of Virginia’s College at Wise, where I met someone who offered up a very measurable definition.

Stuart Burrill of Big Stone Gap told me that “if you’re closer to Richmond than you are to Cumberland Gap, you aren’t in Southwest Virginia.”

Is he right? I don’t know, but I was curious what his definition would bring in — and what it would leave out. I ran that definition through a program called CalcMaps, and here’s the result. It brings in Radford, but not the rest of the New River Valley. It draws the border midway between Hillsville and Floyd, and leaves out anything east of the Blue Ridge. Is that definition right? How would you describe the boundaries of Southwest Virginia? At the risk of getting flooded with email, I’m curious.

Here’s a closer look at what that looks like through the New River Valley:

In this week’s West of the Capital:

I write a free weekly political newsletter that goes out every Friday afternoon —West of the Capital. This week I’ll be diving deeper into the John McGuire-Bob Good Republican primary in the 5th District (which now appears headed to a recount), looking at all the ways it has made history. Here’s one way: It was the most expensive Republican congressional primary in the nation this year.

You can sign up for that or any of other free newsletters here:

• The Daily Everything we publish, every weekday
• The Weekly A roundup of our 10 most popular stories each week, sent Saturdays
• Cardinal Weather In-depth weather news and analysis on our region, sent Wednesdays
• West of the Capital A weekly round-up of politics, with a focus on our region, sent Fridays
• The Weekend A roundup of local events, delivered Thursdays
• Cardinal 250 Revisiting stories from our nation’s founding. Delivered monthly

The post How to define Southwest Virginia? Here’s one way, and it’s probably controversial appeared first on Cardinal News .