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sophistication of a country hick
5/8/2005 5:31 am Last Read: |
I received a piece of mail the other day that threw me into a bout of introspection. It was an invitation to an annual event at the high school I graduated from. The correspondence itself is not at fault, it is the reminder of who I used to be compared to the me of today. I grew up in a very, very, VERY small town near Dodge City, Kansas. Yes, the real Dodge City. Yes, they still have stage coach rides, Miss Kitty, and Wyatt Earp. (They actually named the main drag Wyatt Earp Boulevard.) In fact, the phrase, time to get out of Dodge had true meaning, i.e. hit the road now or you will miss your curfew! My graduating class was 20 students, and we were the largest class in the high school. We didnt have enough guys to play 11 man football, so we played in the 8 man league. There were about 600 people in the whole town and 5 churches. We didnt have cable, the nearest entertainment (movie theater, bowling, skating, etc.) was in Dodge, and everyone knew everyone else. You were either in or you were out, there was no middle ground. For 11 years, this was my world. Ive lived in the NY/NJ area since 1989. As you can imagine, it took some time to adjust to the pace, the sheer numbers of people and the differences in life style. My life is in this area and Im very comfortable with it. I have made friends who have interests similar to mine (very difficult to do in such a small town), in or out has no meaning, I love my career, and love where I live. The fact that I have no intention of moving back home is very puzzling to my extended family. They dont understand why I wouldnt want to live closer to them, why I would want or enjoy the hustle and bustle of the Tri-State area, or why I dont feel compelled to settle down and have a family. Every year I see them at our family reunion and every year I answer the same questions. It merely highlights the chasm that has grown over the years. The person they want and expect me to be is not the person I am. I did go back to my home town a few years ago for an aunts funeral. The whole time I was there, I was overcome with the strongest feeling of déjà vu. It was all so familiar, and yet so alien. The insecure, fumbling 17 year old still felt she had something to prove to the people of the town. The confident, secure woman I have become felt out of synch, as if I had stepped through a time warp. The names were the same, but the faces were from my generation. The streets and buildings were the same, but the names on some of them had changed. It was such an eery, disjointed feeling. While I am not the cosmopolitan sophisticate by the standards I see every day, I live at a level not understood by my home town. There is nothing there for me, and I find that to be a very sad circumstance. Every year, when I receive this invitation, I wonder, Is this the year I can comfortably go back? My answer this year is no. I left feeling as though I were a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. I am not willing to revisit those emotions. Is it possible to return without the memories of yesteryear rushing in to overwhelm me? Will I eventually find it possible to visit and be comfortable with the reminder(s) of who I would have become had I not left? Can I ever go back? These are questions I have not yet answered. Oh, well. I have another year before I have to think about it again |
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