30 minutes from the city.
You go to the North,
you see the upper class mansions on the bluffs of the golf course.
Just a couple miles to the south,
crowded town homes, filled with big families that are lucky to have food on the table.
Look to the east,
vast farm fields, third generation agriculture workers.
Over to the west,
there's the sheltered, middle class developments.
Finally, you look to the center.
A city built in brick and hard work on the banks of the roaring Mississippi. A downtown plucked right out of the 20th century. Mom and pop shops, thrift stores and the age-old high school.
My high school.
You walk through the door and you see the students, from all over. You see the kids born with a silver spoon in their mouths.
Those who've never left their subdivision.
The overall clad farm kids on their way to an FFA meeting.
You see the kids who might not ever see life above the poverty line.
Tradition Muslims in Hijabs.
Orthodox Jews in Yamakas.
Catholics who don't leave home without a cross.
Atheists who scoff at it all.
Black.
White.
Hispanic.
First generation immigrants.
All sides of political ideology.
Kids on their way to Ivy League schools.
Kids who won't finish sophomore year.
Gay.
Straight.
Bi.
Transgender.
Those who don't accept them
Those who do.
Scene.
Emo.
Hipster.
Conformists.

All under the same roof.
Seven hours a day.

It's not like everyone gets along.
They don't.

However there's this feeling of respect. Of understanding. We all come from different places but in this moment, we're all at the same place. Even if outside of school our paths don't cross, while we're here we see so much perspective,so many stories.

I think that's beautiful.