I grew up in a one-stoplight town. In fact, we didn't install that one stoplight until the year before I graduated high school. We didn't incorporate the town until after I graduated from college. I was raised beside both sets of cousins, in a home that sat far off the road, only two miles from my church, school and favorite playground. If the environment hasn't made it abundantly clear, I was raised in a bubble that had a very small circumference.

This isn't to say that I wasn't taught to strive for more, to seek out new discoveries and to learn as much as possible about people, locations and backgrounds that looked very different from mine. It simply meant that when I hopped on the school bus every morning, I did so while joining a bevy of classmates who all looked, talked and thought like me. It was a sweet way to grow up, but I can't say that it didn't shape my view of society for many years.

When I went off to college, I would have preferred to have found somewhere close by. We live in the Triad area of North Carolina and as such, there are plenty of colleges and universities within driving distance. I could go to class during the day and then come home at night, saving my parents money on on-campus living and, for the most part, remaining inside of that protective space I had become so comfortable in. However, I followed my then-boyfriend to the college of his choice, which ultimately proved to be a wise decision, as we have now been married for 10 years and have two incredible children.

Yet, the college he chose to attend was right in the middle of Raleigh, NC which serves as our state's capital. I went from living in a community of less than 5,000 to suddenly being in the middle of an urban metropolis. My school classes were filled with retirees, newlyweds, baby boomers and students from all walks of life. I worked on school projects with people from different cultures, ethnicities and experiences than mine. It was a life-changing four years, and a season of my life in which I feel I gained an immense amount of compassion, understanding, tolerance and acceptance.

Then, I graduated and became a mother of two in the next five years. I now stay at home with them and as such, we do everything together. That means that for a good part of the day, I see the world through their eyes. I take note when they stoop down to pick up a fallen butterfly, smell the roses at the park, or help a hurt caterpillar across the driveway. From their vantage point, I've learned to look up and notice the sunrise at daybreak and the stars that spread across the sky at night.

I've also learned to that to them, everyone's the same. They don't see differences, regardless of how glaring they are. They don't notice if someone is walking with a cane, or rolling in on a wheelchair. They don't see skin color, hair type, body shape or any of the defining characteristics that we use to categorize the people around us. Instead, they just see another human being. While I've prided myself on being open-minded, they take this comprehension to an entirely different level and what a humbling and educational journey they have taken me on in the process.

As an adult, I have found that judgment is a learned trait. We aren't born with a propensity to belittle, categorize or analyze someone. Rather, we create these boxes for ourselves based on life experiences, misaligned guidance or other outside influences that seek to tear down and rip apart our innocent mindset that everyone is created equal. While no one actively tried to shape that influence in my life and in fact, I was raised by incredibly open-minded and compassionate parents, there is a certain level of deep understanding that you simply cannot reach when you grow up around people who are near replicas of yourself. It took stepping out of my comfort zone and going away to college to gain that perspective, and I am so glad I did that.

Recently, we were at the playground with a few of my daughter's playmates from preschool. A heavily tattooed mother approached our group nervously and asked if she could chat. We told her she absolutely could, and before I could start a conversation with her, my daughter came rushing over from the slides and swings. She made over the woman's body art with such innocent glee and admiration that we all couldn't help but smile. She noticed aloud the bold and vibrant colors, the way the lines swirled and changed shape and the intricate composition of it all. In short, she gave this woman the kind of confidence boost that everyone should be privy to every single day. In return, the woman relaxed her nervous stance, shared with us the history behind her art (you can find out more info here) and stayed far longer than I think she originally intended to.

The takeaway? We are all the same inside, regardless of how we look on the outside. I may have been raised in a community without much variation from the status quo, but that doesn't mean I can't teach my children a different way of thinking. I thought I would have to instill these lessons in them and teach them intentionally. Turns out, that understanding is already deep within them, as much a part of their makeup as their own eye color or skin tone. I just have to nourish and nurture it and as I do so, I find that I am growing in response.