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Growing up in a small town left my life lacking in experiences and opportunities, I felt trapped. Nothing memorable or influential ever happened in Swansboro, North Carolina. From the spot where you passed the initial “Welcome to Swansboro, Friendly City by the Sea” sign, whether you were entering the town from the east or west, there were only a handful of assorted businesses and neighborhoods, considering the only road through was a three-mile stretch of highway, before you reached beyond the city limits and were headed to the next town. Living in such a close-knit, barely populated community greatly impacted my thoughts, beliefs, and personality. Except while everyone else was content with the average town and the limited possibilities for
success, I longed for more. I wanted to see the world, to experience life in real cities, to gain knowledge of things I had yet to even discover, to develop opinions and values beyond the biased judgment of my peers and their parents who had never known anything different, to learn languages, to take photographs, to fall in love with a place so wonderful it finally felt like home. The first time I fell in love it was not with someone but rather something, reading. I picked up a book and my heart could not stop racing until I had finished, full of anticipation and exhilaration. I immediately needed to finish the rest of the series and explore all of the other types of books just waiting to be read. As I devoted countless hours to the different genres I discovered two in particular I was extremely fond of, young adult contemporary and classic novels. From Austen’s Pride and Prejudice to Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray and everything in between I thoroughly enjoyed (except Wuthering Heights, the only classic I have never appreciated, which left me unsatisfied and infuriated) both the thrilling plot and fascinating characters as well as the way the classics provide insight into what life was like in the past.
Small towns, quaint and charming, ideally picturesque for a small family to grow up in with a white picket fence paired up with the mother, father and the 2.5 children. What happens when that serene local town, exuberantly bustling with business, progressively loses the aspects that kept it alive? The youth, boisterous and effervescent, grew up surrounded by the local businesses, schools and practices, but as the years wear on, living in that small town years down the road slowly grew to be less appealing. In The Heartland and the Rural Youth Exodus by Patrick J. Carr and Maria Kefalas equally argue that “small towns play an unwitting part in their own decline (Carr and Kefalas 33) when they forget to remember the “untapped resource of the
I was born and raised in Buffalo, New York and it’s all I’ve ever known. When I was younger my parents took me on little short trips like, Toronto and Columbus, Ohio. I was young, so I didn’t really remember a lot that was going on or different about the two places. When I got older, I decided I wanted a change in my life but did not know what or where. In September of 2003, I was invited to my cousin’s wedding in Charlotte, North Carolina. I decided to go and when I did, I did not want to return back to Buffalo. Of course, I had to come back to Buffalo because I was only visiting. I had made up in my mind right then, Charlotte, North Carolina was the place for my children and me. I decided to move to Charlotte before Christmas of that year. My experiences were years to remember. I stayed in Charlotte for a total of seven years. During the years I had been living in Charlotte, my most memorable experiences were the weather and the commuting.
Many folks go their whole lives without having to move. For them it is easy; they know the same people, have loads of friends, and never have to move away from their families. As with me, I was in a different situation. I grew up my entire life, all eighteen years of it, in a small town called Yorktown, Virginia. In my attempt to reach out for a better life style, my girlfriend and I decided we were going to move to Shreveport, Louisiana. Through this course of action, I realized that not two places in this country are exactly alike. I struggled with things at first, but I found some comforts of home here as well.
My hometown city carved me into the man I am today. It was hard growing up on that side of town, but at the same time everything happens for a reason. If I had the chance to move back to my city I wouldn’t go, because now that I moved to Georgia I realize all the flaws Detroit had. The roads are terrible and I hate the snow now. I got used to the great weather and the luxury of the city down south, but the only thing I missed from up north was my associates. (Friends) The only way to change the lonely feelings is to gain
The world I grew up in was small, a close-knit rural area without street lights or sidewalks. Doors were left unlocked and everyone knew each other and, more likely than not, was kin to each other. Men gathered at the store every morning for coffee and news, families went to church picnics and family reunions. Everyone was Catholic and (almost) everyone went to church on Sunday. When the neighbor’s son was arrested and when the school bus driver was diagnosed with cancer, everyone knew. When a family was faced with medical bills they couldn’t afford, there would be a benefit at the church gym; everyone would donate what they could and enjoy dancing, eating, and drinking into the night. Every Saturday my mom and grandma and I would ride 20 minutes into town; groceries from Kroger, a quick stop at the post office and the library, then to Wendy’s for fries and hamburgers. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this quiet little town and the people that lived there would forever influence me, and the person I would become.
That dynamic of being a “little-big” town, has allowed me to know how the hustle and bustle of big city life works, and how to adapt to the pace of it all. The small town aspect has encouraged me to branch out and to meet new people, and the connections I have made has allowed me to experience a diverse range of people. Which has and will help to interact with people for the rest of my life. Words cannot fully describe how I feel about Salem, but what I do know is that the friendliness of the town and its productivity has shaped me into being a unique individual. For I am both ambitious and yet I’m humble enough to take the time to appreciate the beauty in art and in people, and Salem has
We began our trip by flying into the Raleigh, North Carolina airport which were not our initial arrangements but we made it work. There were many flights cancelled, including ours, going to the Charlotte airport but Mark secured a spot for us on a plane going to Raleigh, which actually works better because it is closer to our destination.
The place where I would like to call me second home is located all the way down in Savanna Georgia. I can remember way back about nine years ago in the summer of 2008. The plane ride was a long and hot, and I spent the whole ride playing on my PSP. When I got off the plane I remembered walking through the freezing cold Savanna International Airport seeing all the flags of different countries hanging from the ceiling, but then taking one step out of the airport front doors looking for the car services that was rented and feeling the crushing 100°F heat and deathly humidity. But it is all worth the painful heat to spend time in the beautiful city.
One of our last vacations we went on was a trip to Mississippi. The main reason we went is because my mom’s parents lived down there. I was so happy that we were going on vacation and I was super excited we were going to visit our grandparents. The only bad part about this trip is that we had to drive and I didn’t like long car rides. My parents told my sister and I that is was about an eighteen hour drive with stopping so they told to make for sure to bring some stuff that would keep us occupied. So I brought coloring books my DSI some toys and lots of movies. At the beginning, it wasn’t that bad, but towards the end it was horrible. After driving for hours it seemed like we were driving my whole life away, but once we got there the drive didn’t seem so bad
Imagine having to choose to reside in one place for the rest of your life. Which would you opt for? Some people would argue that the hyperactive lifestyle that a big city has to offer has more benefits than living in the country. However, others would contend that the calm and peaceful environment of the countryside is much more rewarding. Several people move from the city to a farm to get away from the hustle and bustle. Likewise, some farmers have traded in their tractors and animals to live a fast paced city life. Of course, not all large cities are the same nor are all of the places in the country identical. Realizing this, ten years ago, I decided to hang up the city life in Indiana to pursue a more laid back approach to life in rural Tennessee. Certainly, city life and life in the country have their benefits, but they also have distinguishable differences.
“Ouch Hot,” I said as a jump onto the hot sand. It is a sunny day in Virginia Beach, even though it is about 6:15 PM. The sun is still going strong and staying up.
I grew up in a small town where i still currently reside. It has one caution light, one convenience store, a feed and seed store, and a community club house. Everyone knows each other and if they know your last name, they now all about you. We all come together in hard times and help each other. Growing up in a small town was fun. Knowing everyone, being able to ride your bike or horse just about anywhere, and walking barefoot everywhere you went made for a fun childhood. It takes about 30 minutes to get to town anyway you go. There is no cellphone signal and landline phones are a must.
Small town living is amazing, I have been strongly impacted by the people and the opinions of the people I have known my whole
It was a bright and exciting day here in Woodbridge, New Jersey. My twin brother Reese and I awoke to the smell of chocolate chip waffles being made downstairs. It was the first day of our senior year of high school. Our first last day of school was finally here. As long as these thirteen years of school have been, they’ve also flown by. Thankfully, I picked out my outfit the night before because I was far too exhausted to even think about being fashionable at 6:45 in the morning. Reese did the same, deciding on a light green Polo, some khakis and his new Nikes. I, on the other hand, had chosen a flowy cream blouse, a light pink skirt and silver glitter ballet flats. I decided that senior year was going to be my girly year, even though I say that every school year and I’m over it by the second week. Mom and I went on a huge shopping spree in the city before summer ended and I had to take full advantage of my free clothing opportunity. My goal was to get on homecoming court for the fourth year in a row. Being class president, that shouldn’t be too difficult.
While trying to examine how my community has changed economically since the 80's, I found myself pondering what my community really was. I have had the unfortunate experience to understand how a person can feel as if they don't really belong. Since I had moved about nine times within my life, and I am only eighteen years old, I became stuck, without any ideas of what to write about. While facing this assignment, I realized that I did not know if I had a place I would consider my "community," or even my true "home."