Before you read this and think I will waste your time by complaining about my experience, think again. I have honestly loved growing up in a fairly small town in suburban Ohio. I enjoy the occasional game of corn hole (yes, they are actually bags filled with corn) and I laugh when people make jokes about living near cornfields and farms.
Although I am ecstatic to move into a city and leave my comfort zone, I have spent a lot of time reflecting on how different my life would have been had I lived somewhere else, especially in a more diverse setting.
There were days where I yearned to live in a vibrant, booming city such as New York or Los Angeles, but eventually I came to a conclusion that I would not have had the opportunity to find and embrace my differences. In such a homogeneous environment, I was forced to create my own sense of self worth and become introspective as to what actually makes us different.
For the longest time, I was under the impression that the color of my skin is what set me apart from my classmates. I think I always had this thought lingering in the back of my mind, but when I was in fourth grade, I was confronted with the idea first hand. My Mom was so eager when any other minority moved to the district, and that is when I knew.
I knew that I was never going to be like everyone else who lived in my community. Most people had never heard of Sudan (one of the countries I am from) and it was obvious that my golden, brown skin stood apart from my pale, Caucasian classmates.
Several people would ask me "Where are you from?" which was much better than the assumption that I was Indian just because I am brown. Instead of being offended by the somewhat subtle ignorance, I decided to use it as an opportunity to teach myself to be proud of my identity, and to teach my peers about places and things they may have never been exposed to.
As soon as I started to understand and accept my own differences, I became much more confident when it came to answering questions, and I was rather eager to share my diverse heritage with others.
Sometimes, I forget that I am not white. I have been surrounded by Caucasian people and their culture for the entirety of my life, and by living in a small town, you cannot go anywhere without seeing at lease two (or ten) people you know. So you can forget going to the grocery store in your pajamas, because odds are that you'll meet your best friend's uncle, your first grade teacher, and that one neighbor you never talk to.
Being a minority in the Midwest has ultimately taught me that most people are genuinely accepting, kind, and open to learning new things about those who are different than they are. I am grateful to have grown up where I have..cornfields and all.
