If you’re from a small town, you probably understand how much of a bubble you live in. Growing up somewhere slightly off the map and not particularly popular makes a place unique. However, that uniqueness is not always a good thing.
In my case, it basically made me run screaming for the hills all the way to Boston. (I guess it’s more accurate to say away from the hills since I grew up in Hazleton, Pennsylvania, the glorious ‘gateway to the Poconos’.) My hometown quickly went from a boring place I didn’t like due to lack of Starbucks (and quite frankly, a lack of anything besides a Perkins and Dunkin Donuts) to a Donald Trump worshipping ground. I’m now in the beginning stages of acceptance of Trump-mania and the fact is that my town’s nickname in my head has transformed from hazle-hell to Trump-hell. I’m also accepting (rather easily) that I will never move back home.
Now, I know I haven’t painted a pretty picture of Hazleton so far, but really it was never this bad. It’s never been modern and it sure doesn’t hold a match to Boston, but I wouldn’t trade growing up in Hazleton for anything. I remember watching my big brothers build skateboard ramps and ride bikes with neighborhood kids; I couldn’t wait to be big enough to join. Occasionally, they would let me in on a summer night’s manhunt game. I had my share of the good times, walking to Pences candy store on my own, getting breakfast at Pat’s with my dad, or lunch at the Pine’s with my aunt. The town really was a classic place to grow up with its own traditions and fun.
The problem with small towns is that once the things making them special disappear, the stigma of a quaint little town goes with it. Slowly, Hazleton started to morph into the present day Trump-mania it is. The restaurants I grew up with, countless stores in the mall, and every Catholic school (four total) I attended until the 6th grade are just a few things that cease to exist there today. The town was seriously deteriorating—economically, academically, and even physically. There wasn’t a lot going on in Hazleton, but it did have a certain charm that people related to and enjoyed. As that disappeared, so did the pride for the town.
The town also underwent some demographic changes. Hazleton wasn’t a stranger to immigrants, even back when it thrived on the coal mining industry immigrants who played a strong role in the community. In the last few years, the origin of the immigrants simply changed. There are significantly larger Latino, Mexican, and Hispanic populations now. This increase, along with the other changes going on within the town, caused a negative correlation between the two for many people. This tension and the ever-changing/somewhat-crumbling hometown is what I left behind two years ago.
Sadly, my town was a breeding ground for the types of ideas and opinions that fuel the support of Trump and his candidacy. His hatred and bigotry drove forward the existing tension in Hazleton. He took advantage of a small town bubble that wasn’t handling change well. There was an appeal for him due to a previous mayor’s similar thoughts on immigrants, so I wasn’t surprised when he gained followers from my area. However, I was shocked to the extent which that following expanded. I can’t say my town has Chipotle or Panera, but I can proudly say we have our very own Trump office!
The day I saw the update that we were getting a Trump office from my hometown news station was the day I knew that I officially could not stand the idea of the town I once loved as a little girl. I used to like trying to explain what my town was like to new college friends. I wanted to fill them in on the good and the bad, from cold Snape’s pizza (sounds gross but truly is life changing), to the 30-minute drive it took to get to any decent shopping or coffee shop. Now, I get embarrassed whenever college peers talk about Trump and his outrageous policies. They can’t imagine places and people who would support him—and there I sit, ashamed to be from one of those very places.
The saddest part for me is I know it’s not a bunch of crazy old people responsible for all the support. I watch kids I grew up with my whole life who are now in college, where they supposedly expand their education and views, post Facebook rants and pictures from rallies in support of policies they think will save them. In the mere week since I’ve been home from school, I’ve seen countless Trump car stickers with a variety of racial slurs. It's sad to see people condemning others in hopes that it can ‘make America great again,’ and it's even worse they think building a wall might fix their problems.
The town I grew up in is gone. No matter how much Trump may promise or how many offices he may build, that can never replace the hometown that has been demolished over the years. He may not have started its downfall but he has created a hatred that I’m afraid will never stop. He wasn’t taken seriously at first- but take it from someone who has officially had their small town renovated to a wanna-be Trump towers, just a few unpopular opinions can soon be the social norm.
