I grew up in a town where everyone looked like me.

The census declared that we were over 99 percent white in a town of 735 people.

I found myself in a class of a little more than 30 people. I’ve known the majority of these classmates since I was four years old and almost all looked just like me.

I don’t know why we're all convinced that we were accepting. Looking back, it is ridiculous for us to have said so when we didn’t even know the word diverse. We rarely saw someone that wasn’t the same shade of white. Yes, maybe there was one or two, but they were immersed so much in our culture, that we truly couldn’t experience theirs.

Everyone looked just like me. We grew up in the same situation, in the same rural community. We made memories together as we worked with others, those whose skin colors, cultures, ethnicities all looked the same as ours.

We were sheltered by the cornfields that surrounded our school and towns. We had never experienced the world. We had never experienced anyone that didn’t look just like us unless they had already been so influenced by us.

Eventually, though, we put on our graduation gowns and said possibly our final goodbyes. The corn fields could no longer protect us from the world as we packed vehicles and headed off to places far beyond our imagination.

How could we claim that we were accepting when we rarely met anyone that wasn’t another version of ourselves? I now find myself realizing that strong racism and evil actions are not just something of the movies. Hate crimes are a reality that hurts innocent people, and this shocked the ignorant version of myself.

I now speak happily with people who are not like me for the first time in my life. It’s as if I have to relearn socialization because I’ve never been in a situation where I wasn’t socializing with someone who had a similar upbringing as mine.

How did we say we were accepting when all we knew was ourselves?

We were angry with those we saw on television who went against other cultures, but we were in no way able to say we wouldn’t do the same in that situation. We had never been in that situation.

We were sheltered in our small town and ignorant about that fact. It’s not a hatred for small town living, it’s a dislike for not realizing that we couldn’t say we were accepting.

It’s important to meet people that don’t have the same story as us. It’s wonderful to be able to experience something new with people that you haven’t known your entire life and that don’t look exactly like you. It’s an eye-opening moment to escape the walls of agriculture and rural communities.

Home will always call me, but I am finally able to say that I am accepting. I am finally able to look people in the eyes that don’t live the same way that I do, and who aren’t affected by Society in the same way that I am.

I can finally say that I am not able to understand right now those unlike me, but I am willing to learn and try.