#small town life

[peninsulaisms]

it’s never coming back

[nowheresville-dakota]

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

I don't know if I have many teenagers following me, but if I do, I want to tell you a story.

Way back when I was in high school, more than half my age ago at this point, I did a politics class mostly because my other two classes were with the same teacher and if I took that one it meant I didn't have to leave the portable in the winter. Which gives you an idea of how seriously I took my education.

For extra credit, our teacher wanted us to attend a local city council candidate's meeting. And he wanted us to treat it like an old 1930s election campaign trail situation. Posters, candidate ribbons, noise makers, the works. Now, he was also bribing us with pizza for after and for a fair number of us that meant a free meal instead of having peanut butter on a spoon for dinner.

So four classes worth of twelfth graders rocked up at this thing armed with campaign slogans we'd made up for our chosen candidates, posters, one kid had a bunch of glow sticks. And we freaking roared whenever someone would step up to the podium to start their pitch.

And most of the politicians ate it up. These meetings usually got fifteen little old ladies looking for something to do on a Tuesday night. We outnumbered them. We were taking up the whole back half of the room. Most of us, that would be our first year eligible to vote, and I guess seeing us there lit a fire under them. It went from 'This year's holiday light display should be blue and white themed, all in favour?' to 'This town is pretty nice, but it could be better. Let's figure out how!' Instead of the meeting ending after the last speaker and everyone grabbing some sugar cookies and coffee, it turned into a question and answer period. They wanted to know what we wanted from them.

We discussed how our little town turning more and more into a bedroom community or commuter town meant that job opportunities were leaving. How that lack of prospects for us was contributing to the rate of drug use and suicide. The epidemic of teen pregnancies was costing so many young women their education because they were encouraged to drop out of school. And how we needed things to do that weren't just sitting in the mall food court.

Over the next few years, things started to happen. The community centres started doing career training programs. Everything from engine repair to nail technician. The adult learning centre had a class that was all young mothers getting their high school diplomas. They built a skate park. There were outdoor concerts and music events. The hockey rink and outdoor performance stage got fixed up. A pretty big company came along and brought tons of jobs with it and suddenly we had opportunities that weren't either a burger joint or shovelling icing in the cookie factory.

This is all a long, slightly rambling way to say that while voting is absolutely important, if you really want your voice heard, show up to meetings. Make some noise. Tell your elected officials what you need to thrive in your community. Especially if you're in a small town.

[pratchettquotes]

There was a village tucked in a narrow valley between steep woods. It wasn't a large village, and wouldn't have shown up on a map of the mountains. It barely showed up on a map of the village.

It was, in fact, one of those places that exist merely so that people can have come from them. The universe is littered with them: hidden villages, windswept little towns under wide skies, isolated cabins on chilly mountains, whose only mark on history is to be the incredibly ordinary place where something extraordinary started to happen. Often there is no more than a little plaque to reveal that, against all gynecological probability, someone very famous was born halfway up a wall.

Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

[chaoticdesertdweller]

Roanoke, Virginia

📸 Sasha Higgs

[mother-lee]

almost heaven

[hayleyppisawesome]

ʜᴏᴜsᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ༉‧₊˚.

"Can you turn down the fucking music?" The loud, loud rap coming from the speakers giving Theo a headache. He just wanted to be at the party already, drinking away his thoughts. Mattheo's hand reached the volume, twisting it as the music faded.

"Sorry." Mattheo mumbles, looking down. "Whatever man, keep your eyes on the road."

The metal of the beer can hitting the plastic of the mini fridge sends a wave of relief down your spine. After hours of getting the party together, you're finally done. Finally. The sounds of cars rolling on the paved driveway up to the expensive manor has you calling for Draco.

As his cousin, he has obviously made you do all of the work. He so desperately begged you to set up the party, how could you say no? At least it was a break from home, always surrounded by the bustling streets of New York City. Now, you are all the way upstate in some town called Cazenovia? Just a small town where rich people spend their money. Either way, it's a break.

Outside, you see a line of cars parked. How many people did he invite to this?

"Can you just stop the car alre-" Theo's sentence suddenly forgotten as his eyes land on you. "Holy shit."

You, in your small swimsuit that leaves nothing to the imagination. You, with your hair braided back so perfectly. You, with your sparkling eyes.

"Yo, are you okay?" Mattheo takes a quick glance at Theo. "Holy smokes." A wolf whistle leaves his lips as his eyes catch on you. "Damn, Theo. You got an eye. I should talk to-"

"What the fuck? No, I saw her fir-" A knock on the car window stops him. Mattheo rolls down the window with a smirk. "Hey gorgeous." He speaks, a not so subtle wink going in your direction.

"Uhm... hi? You guys are Draco's friends, right?" An awkward giggle leaves you as you look past Mattheo. "He told me to ask you to come inside and help him move the-"

Your heart races as your eyes land on Theo. It's like you can't tear your eyes away from him. "Move the... uhm..." Whatever you were saying is completely forgotten the minute you lock eyes with him. He looks like a god sitting there so perfectly and-

"What is your problem? What is taking you so long?" A hand on your shoulder drags you back to reality. Turning, you see Draco standing there. "S- oh. Sorry." You turn and walk into the house, embarrassment flooding over you.

Now that the party is in full swing, you are more inclined to join in. A few times in the night, you catch Theos eye, until finally, once intoxicated enough, you feel strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

"Hello, pretty girl." A small giggle leaves you as he whispers in your ear. "Don't think I forgot about earlier. You know, I was watching you too."

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, embarrassment bubbling up again. "Sorry about that." He cuts you off almost immediately. "Don't be sorry. I liked it."

As soon as you start getting comfortable with him, your friends come and steal you away, leaving you to wonder about him, hoping that just maybe you would see him again before you left.

@kiyaedits

[the-trailertrash-princess]

A rebel heart in a town built to break ‘em, she’s got a sinner’s soul but a saint’s reputation.

[angelunderheaven]

[just-a-girl-07]

✮ 2003

[peninsulaisms]

principally what i mean when i say i miss home

[nowheresville-dakota]

[we-die-in-the-barn]

the quiet midnight.

[maiapoetica]

"Everybody lies. No exceptions."

[wiserebeltiger]

Small town America is a torture chamber

Parents move to small rural towns so they can have total control of their children.

Control their flow of information, isolate them, abuse them.

No friends, no boyfriend, no fun.

Police and school likely to ignore abuse, or be ill-informed about the signs.

Deny kids opportunities, and a life.

Most of the neighbors are just as shitty. Most of the kids you’re in school with are also isolated and clueless about how badly they’re being abused, how abnormal their home life is.

Effortlessly, the small town silences victims and keeps them imprisoned. Psychopaths are allowed to get away with bad behavior while the authorities turn a blind eye; here, more so than other places, the abuser is allowed to win; and this impresses on the victim that the victim always loses, a warped lesson that may fuck with their head for the rest of their life.

A horrid display of quiet, lock-tight order, small town America.

And all disguised with a wreath of nice foliage.

Here, do not expect reason to prevail. Do not expect the truth to out. Not until it is too late. Or until after you are gone.

[chaoticdesertdweller]

📸 Chuck Glover