I spent the first 8 years of my life stuck in a small town in the middle of nowhere Kansas. The town was called Garden City, Kansas. If you think of Kansas and immediately think of Kansas City, just no. It was a town all the way down and left on the flat tornado ridden side. I was homeschooled by my mom, but we were a part of some homeschool groups to try and keep us sane and not too socially awkward. I distinctly remember growing up that a tornado siren did not mean go hide in the basement, but it was in fact just the perfect time to go outside, talk to your neighbors and look for the swirling pillar in the sky. From what I have written so far it might seem like I disliked living there, that is not true. It was a great childhood and I have some great memories with my family and friends there. We had so much space to play, run, and dig in the dirt with no buildings or real roads to stop us. One of the best parts about living in Kansas, was that my grandparents lived there with us and had an animal farm and a small little pony that we were able to ride. My two siblings and I would commonly have sleepovers with our grandparents and aunts that still lived with them. We would play games and take care of animals all while only drinking flavored sparkling water because their country water tasted like dirt. Looking back on it now I am happy I experienced it but there were so many hard things about living there that an 8 year old never picked up on. The community was more torn than I ever realized and the damage done by tornados was no joke. I am glad to have moved to a bigger city to encounter more people and perspectives, but I will never forget Garden City, Kansas.