A Small Town Education

Growing up in Frederick, Oklahoma, you might assume I graduated from high school with a deep understanding of the Tulsa Race Massacre. You might assume that I understood the true heartbreak associated with the Trail of Tears. You might assume I learned about the segregation my ancestors allowed to permeate every facet of our society. You could assume my education offered nuanced views of America’s strengths and an honest assessment of the aspects of our union still in need of perfecting. You could assume failing to grasp these concepts is the byproduct of living in a deeply red state. This might lead you to assume this is not a systemic challenge. Your mind might think, “this is not a challenge facing our bluest cities.” You could assume all of this, but I would fervently argue that you are wrong.

In the classrooms of my small town, I learned a false story about America. Truth would have to be discovered beyond the classroom. After learning these lessons, my perspective on the world was never the same. I spent hours reading, discussing, and reflecting. I thought long and hard about my hometown’s segregated secret. It forced me to ask bold questions about what was done in my name to advance the interests of those who look like me. I had to think deeply about those who were held back so that I might soar. I uncovered these lessons and truths when I confronted real-world examples that felt impossible to…