Moving to Sharon Springs, Kansas when I was 8-years-old was probably the best thing my family could have done for me. Living there and being surrounded by the intelligent, starkly independent and extremely hardworking people I grew up with has molded me into exactly who I am today, as well as pave the way to my idea of exactly who I want to be. Why keep all of the wealth to myself, though, when the rest of the world could benefit from these teachings just as well?

"Okay, girls, quit sitting around and help out!"

I think that the reason my conservative corner of the world feels so adversely about feminism compared to my liberal college scene is because growing up, the girls weren't discouraged from taking part in masculine activities. We were encouraged to take part in the county clean up and to play sports and participate with the boys. We grew up with the notion that everyone got the job they wanted, or at least the one they deserved and people were paid for the work that they did. There wasn't a need for equal rights warriors because the ladies of Wallace County were some of the most successful and independent women I would ever meet.

"Alright kids, get back to work."

Our athletic programs were top notch considering that our total high school enrollment was seldom over sixty. With two activities or games a week and a few trips to state, other communities might have given us a break. Not Sharon. We could be playing a state football game on a Saturday, and still expected to be back in class on Monday ready to learn. Always ranking in our league or our region for one sport or another was what everyone knew us for, what they don't put on the sign in front of the school. though, is that more often than not we ranked pretty highly for GPA of participating athletes in every sport Sharon offered.

"It takes a village"

I've already told the world about the coach and teacher who changed my life for the better, but there were so many others, as well. That old adage about "It takes a village to raise a child" is particularly relevant when I mention Sharon Springs, because nearly every adult I run into when I go 'back home' has influenced my life in one way or another: my third grade teacher who taught me to let my little brother grow up because he wouldn't get himself anywhere if I kept treating him like a baby, the ex school counselor/current substitute who taught me that not everyone is going to like me and that there wasn't anything I could do about it, the multiple English teachers who helped me find my own sweet release in writing, every adult who had ever held me to a standard I earned or even a standard that seemed our of my reach, every teacher who had taken an interest in my life outside of the classroom, any of my friends' parents who took the time to offer me their assistance and love and a generous ear, and all of the faculty of that school who helped me realize my potential as as student. Though they never did anything for me, they offered me the tools I needed to accomplish anything I could have dreamed of.

"Love Thy Neighbor."

There's no place I'd rather be in the middle of a tragedy. I can't imagine any other town pulling together to support each of it's members the way that Sharon Springs can time after time after time. I can say with absolute certainty that if I were to ask anything of the first 10 people I saw the next time I went home, at least eight of them would do their best to help me. Sharon has seen loss, fires, storms, droughts, poverty, scandal, crime, and how that town is still standing is a wonder to me. The ability for a community to cope with any tragedy the universe can throw at it has always amazed me, and Sharon Springs is the only town I've ever known of to take as many hits as it has and come back stronger than it was before.

There's a magic about that place, there's a stubborn charm in those people, and there's a hole in my life the size of a mile-by-mile town with a population less than 800. What gets me, though, is that nobody but the people who grew up there will ever get to know how great that feels.