Most have never heard of the town where I was born. To some, it might just be an insignificant dot on Virginia’s map, but to me, Ruther Glen is home. Unlike larger cities, Ruther Glen’s calm, country atmosphere is a place of communal trust and unity, but also a lot of gossip. Though a wonderful community, there was a lack of diversity that I didn’t know was missing until I entered kindergarten.

In the summer of 1991, I said goodbye to my rural roots, my loving grandparents, and all of my friends and with my mom at the wheel of the U-Haul, we embarked on a seven hour journey to Springfield, Massachusetts. After arriving, my mom and I settled into our cozy apartment, and I anxiously awaited the big day. It was the day when I would visit my first real school and see the faces of my future classmates; Orientation Day.

After making the thirty minute commute to Hartford, Connecticut, I looked upon newest endeavor. With braids-a-swinging, I held my mom’s hand tightly and entered the halls of St. Augustine’s Preparatory Academy. The school was like a fairy tale castle to me. Archaic pillars decorated the historic hallways and were contrasted by bright signs welcoming new students. However, it was the location of orientation that held my interest. Despite my excitement, I still found time to marvel at the presence of so many books. At five years old, I was already an avid reader. The thought of what lay in all those books increased my enthusiasm tenfold. As we rounded the corner, I heard chatter, giggles, and an occasional sneeze. I knew that I had come to the part that I most anticipated.

At the long wooden table my mom and I took a seat amongst the children and parents. The kids seemed as nervous as I. Some sucked their thumbs; others squirmed anxiously in the hard plastic chairs; while others just took comfort in the arms of their parents.  As I looked around, I realized that many of the people before me were different than those in Ruther Glen. They were brown, but slightly darker than me.  And they spoke a language I had never heard. The way that they spoke reminded me of Maria from “Sesame Street.” I was intrigued to listen longer, but as I continued to look around something else diverted my attention.

Looking across the table I saw one white face in a sea of brown. Her radiant blonde hair fascinated me. It was a stark contrast to the many long brunette plaits adorning my head. After the teacher introduced herself as Mrs. Moralez and gave a brief synopsis of how our year was to be spent, we were released for a meet-and-greet. As soon as this was announced, the young white girl approached me. “I like your hair,” she said, playfully picking up one of my braids. “I like yours too,” I truthfully replied, admiring her naturally highlighted locks. I came to find that my new classmate’s name was Michelle. I soon became friends with her and many other children from different backgrounds.

Since being introduced to a medley of cultures in kindergarten, I find myself seeking variety wherever I go. In grade school, I always like to mix it up at lunch and visit the tables of all of the different groups. In addition, I am nearing my seventh year of studying Spanish, and I plan to earn a minor in the language. In fact I am majoring under Communication and Culture. I honestly believe that my initial exposure to the myriad of backgrounds has made me appreciate variety and individuality and has made me into the person that I am today.

Also by Victoria:

Charlotte, North Carolina