From Middletown to Yale: The class divide in “Hillbilly Elegy”

BY COLTON BRADBERRY

Opinion Editor

When JD Vance became vice president, I knew I had to finally pick up “Hillbilly Elegy.” The book had been sitting on my reading list for years, but now that its author had risen to national prominence, I wanted to understand the man behind the headlines. 

How does someone go from a turbulent, working-class childhood in Appalachia to Yale Law School to the White House? 

JD Vance’s “Hillbilly Elegy” is more than a memoir; it’s a deep, unfiltered look at the struggles of America’s white working-class. As someone who appreciates honest storytelling and well-crafted narratives, I find Vance’s journey both gripping and enlightening.

One of the most compelling figures in Vance’s memoir is his grandmother, Mamaw, a tough, no-nonsense woman who cussed proudly and wielded a pistol but also became the stabilizing force in his life.

Mamaw had her flaws—explosive anger and a tendency to solve problems with threats—but she also believed deeply in hard work and self-reliance and expected the same from Vance. Her influence was a major reason he avoided the traps that consumed so many in his community.

While the memoir explores the darker realities of his upbringing, his mother’s drug addiction, financial hardship and the cycles of dysfunction that entrap so many, it never feels hopeless. Instead, it’s a testament to how resilience and mentorship can change the course of a life.

The book opens with Vance explaining that what he did isn’t extraordinary. He wrote the book because he wanted people to understand what happens to kids who grow up poor. He wanted people to know “that those of us that are lucky enough to live the American Dream, the demons of the life we left behind continue to chase us.”

This kind of blunt assessment is part of what makes “Hillbilly Elegy” so controversial. Vance doesn’t just tell his own story, he challenges the cultural attitudes of his hometown. He argues that poverty isn’t only about a lack of money, it’s also about a mindset that discourages ambition and self-improvement.

Vance describes men who complain about the lack of jobs but refuse to take available work because it’s beneath them. He recalls watching people blame the government, the economy or their bad luck while making self-destructive choices.

As Vance wrote, “We do not work as hard as we should. We don’t save. We spend too much time watching TV.” 

This kind of judgement is part of what makes the book controversial. He challenges the cultural attitudes of his hometown.

Of course, this book has stirred plenty of debate, and I can see why. Vance takes a strong stance on personal responsibility, arguing that cultural attitudes within his community contribute just as much to their struggles as economic factors. 

While some critics feel this oversimplifies larger systemic issues, I find his perspective compelling — after all, he’s lived it. He’s not just offering commentary from the outside. He’s telling his own story, and that makes all the difference.

Another huge reason this book resonated with me is Vance’s candid discussion of class differences. His journey from small-town Ohio to Yale Law School is as much about adapting to elite spaces as it is about escaping poverty. 

Vance captures the dissonance of stepping into a world where polished networking skills matter just as much as intelligence, and how for many from his background, the rules of that world feel foreign.

Vance’s realization that the working-class world he came from operated by entirely different social rules is eye-opening. Financial hardship wasn't the only thing that separated him. There was an unspoken code of elite society, something most of his peers took for granted.

The experiences Vance went through shows how social mobility is about more than just hard work. It also requires learning an entirely new way of interacting with people, navigating professional spaces and managing expectations.

Vance highlights one of the biggest barriers to upward mobility in America: It’s not about pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, it’s about knowing which boots to wear in the first place. Success in elite spaces requires a set of skills and experiences that many working-class Americans simply aren’t exposed to.

The main takeaway from “Hillbilly Elegy” is that escaping poverty isn’t just about hard work or financial success, it’s about navigating cultural and social barriers that many working-class Americans aren’t even aware exist.

Vance argues that while economic hardship and systemic issues play a role in keeping people trapped in poverty, cultural attitudes and learned behaviors also contribute to the struggle. He explains how many in his Appalachian community suffer from fatalism, distrust of institutions and a resistance to change, which can make upward mobility even harder.

However, even for those who do “make it out,” like Vance himself, success comes with culture shock and identity struggles. His journey to Yale Law School showed him that success is more than just getting an education. Success is understanding the rules of elite society, like networking, professional etiquette and self-presentation.

Vance’s story challenges the idea that anyone can succeed if they work hard enough. 

“Hillbilly Elegy” suggests that real upward mobility requires more than effort, it requires mentorship, exposure to different environments and an understanding of the social expectations that shape success.

Ultimately, “Hillbilly Elegy” is an emotional, eye-opening memoir that doesn’t provide easy answers but instead paints a vivid picture of a struggling America that is too often ignored. Love it or hate it, Vance’s story forces us to consider the challenges facing the working class and what it takes to break the cycle.