One theme, echoed recently in more populous areas, was the incursion of “monoculture” against diverse populations in Appalachia, possibly a holdout because of the mountains that have held it somewhat remote from previous invasions, and concern for maintaining its diverse identity. In one forum, Rita and Craig Sutherland of Abingdon Virginia's ABN-FM shared the triumphs and heartaches of attempting to maintain the work and love of their lives, a unique independent radio station, in the face of a forceful takeover attempt, fought through the press and courts, by a regional “conglomerate” that wished to garner its market popularity and convert its format. Marilou Awiakta, a Cherokee author of years and distinction, attended and spoke at a forum on her poetic observations and objections to the more lethal of modern developments. Our inner-joinedness, our connection to the earth as a primal, life-giving source that requires respect and renewal for survival on the planet were the subject of several papers, poetic in themselves. Another forum addressed the dearth of children’s literature, particularly poetry, that will convey to the youngest generation myths and values that have traditionally sustained cultural heritage, ethical individualism, and a sense of self. Appalshop, revered for the quality and depth of its artistic commitment over the years to recording and preserving Appalachia as it really is for people that live, work, play and create in the region, presented an award-winning film (“To Save the Land & People,” by Anne Lewis) on the effects of Kentucky strip-mining on its environment and culture.

There were, in total, 64 forums (presenting 129 papers, 19 roundtable discussions, several films and readings) ranging from "The Sacred in the Land" to "Cocke County Lives and Heritage: Youth Panel & Sample Video," many of them concurrent and all inviting comments and questions, rounded in the evenings by traditionally Appalachian music and dancing, fiddles and “calling,” and displays of handmade regional wares, finger harps and dulcimers most notably. Sessions were stretched over three venues, two hotels and conference center connected by an arial walkway.

Nearby, Knoxville’s Market Square provided an eerie reminder of change. Nearly all of the shops were boarded up although the buildings had obviously been remodelled and repaired from a previous era of architechtural innovation. What once had been a thoroughfare, for model-T’s perhaps and horse-drawn affairs, had become a nearly-deserted pedestrian mall with an iron-fenced park, replete with stream and waterfall, benches and deliberate horticulture. A few men in raggy dress, one barefoot, wandered comfortably by the boarded-up windows and doors of once-fancy couture shops and restaurants. Only one, serving remarkable mostly Mexican food and displaying original art on its walls, still stood against the exodus to suburban malls. A student from nearby U.T. expressed optimism that the current fate of Market Square was transitory, that its location of six walking blocks from the university would help to revive it as a source of urban recall and resurgence.