What's Worth More Than Gold?

EXACTLY as I remember it.

One summer day, after getting twist ice cream cones at the small town Dairy Queen (I have come to know now that just about every rural town has one, which is AWESOME but costly caloric wise for me), my Mom was driving us back to my Grandparent's house when we spotted a rainbow. It wasn't just any rainbow, it was the boldest, closest rainbow that we had ever seen, and I have yet to witness another even like it.

At first it was a laugh, we were heading in the same direction as where it was, so it stayed in our view. It kept getting bigger, closer. As we turned down the road to the house it seemed just beyond the trees, like you could reach out and touch it. As we made the turn it was a bit further out of reach. Oddly enough not a word was spoken, my Mother just hit the gas and the chase began. We were all on the same wavelength. We were going to see the end of the rainbow.

She blew past the house and babied it around the sharp turn. As we got closer to town it seemed to tease us, making its way at a leisurely pace that quickened as we seemed to gain ground. We made it to the edge of town to find ourselves defeated as it leapt out of reach, seeming a hundred miles away. When my Mom stopped to turn the car around she asked: "What do you think would have happened if we caught it?"

My brothers exclaimed that there would definitely be a pot of gold. My mind was elsewhere, in a dream that resembled Oz just a little bit. All of 15 years old I could not wait to get away from the town where we lived back in Oklahoma.

I spent the formative years of my life living in my Grandparent's house, which was nestled in a 200 acre plot of land (that my Pappaw actually rented to companies that grew soybeans and corn) just outside of a little unincorporated town of about 27 people (not sure if I counted so it may have been less or more) named Claiborne in Ohio. When I was about 12 we moved to an 11 acre plot of land (where I eventually learned the joy of feeding bottle calves at 4:30am) outside a town in Oklahoma which had a population of about 200 people at the time. I didn't even get to go to school there before there was a consolidation, and the rural school was assumed by the little bit bigger school in a town that had a population of around 1000. Moving was hard on us in more ways than one.

Being far from family is hard. Being in that small town was even harder. Nothing could have prepared us for the perpetual unwelcoming atmosphere.

I think that my parents thought that it would get better. As time went on it did in some ways. People that came to know us were friendlier over time, but we were made to know at every opportunity that we were outsiders, pariahs, never to truly be excepted into the community. The negativity was so overbearing that with every passing day I became more and more determined that I was going to leave that negative burg as soon as I got the chance. I didn't know exactly where I was dreaming of moving, but it would be better anywhere but there. This I thoroughly believed. Boy was I wrong.

After finishing college I fell in love with a man who would soon become my Husband. He moved to a city in the South and so I followed. It was a beautiful place, with tall majestic pines, emerald green grass, perfect year round temps. This sounds silly, but I remember feeling like Dorothy Gale opening the door to our apartment to the dazzling technicolor world outside. And so it was...for the first few days after moving in. As ideal as the surroundings were, I was shocked and saddened to discover that the very same negative attitude to newcomers was present in that pretty little town, but magnified because I was American while my Husband was not. We'll just leave it at that.

I tried to imagine that I was going through what my family did when they initially moved, even though there were different factors that applied to my Husband and I. I tried to stay positive, taking the time that I had while looking for a job to volunteer so that I could meet people. It worked for a while but people rotated out so often that I had no consistent base for building a social network. Over time though, like back home, we did build some sturdy relationships with some very lovely people just in time to move.

I can't describe to you the relief of leaving that town. Unbelievably it eclipsed the fear of the unknown to become our reality in Kansas. Although some might see it as adventurous, we were moving to a town that we had no real knowledge of outside of what we had noted in our internet searches. It was no adventure to us. It was an escape. With every mile that we passed as we crossed the state line of Kansas our anxiety began to grow. We were absolutely sure that a new negative normal awaited us.

Little did we know that what awaited us was worth more than gold. What's worth more than gold? I can tell you from my perspective what is: a welcoming atmosphere. What awaited us was a town that embraced us so thoroughly that from the very first moment we felt we were home. No matter where I roam I can't wait to get back! And I have yet to go to a community where I don't feel welcome. Yes, there are negative spaces and sometimes attitudes, that's a given with any place. The only difference lays in the heart of Kansans. 

Now we all remember at the end of the story the Good Witch of the North asks Dorothy what she learned. My answers are different because Kansas hasn't always been home to me, but I think they are worth sharing:

• Feeling welcome makes life grand. Poor experiences have taught me that a welcome atmosphere is what I will always seek in the future (if I we ever choose to move that is)
• The people make the place. You could live in the most beautiful place on earth, but if the people there go out of their way to remind you that you don't belong, well...enough said.

Now I am sure you are saying to yourself "That's a nice little chirpy story about a pretty amazing experience, but that experience ain't mine!"

If that is the case, all that I can say is that I understand. I know that the fairy tale that I experienced in Kansas is not everyone's. I will admit there are places here that just aren't that welcoming. It's true, it's sad, and it doesn't need to be that way.

What if...you wanted to make your community a more welcoming place?

There are many great ways to do just that!

You could search the Kansas PRIDE Database for welcoming new community members. Some do welcome baskets with a bevy of local coupons and adverts for local businesses - and idea which I LOVE!

A colleague of mine, Nancy, had a First Friday Call that featured Ben Winchester, and "Rewriting the Rural Narrative" where he gives some tips on welcoming newcomers that includes:

• Giving them space to settle, and not approaching them immediately to be on a board
• Taking newcomers out to dinner to welcome them and help them get to know the community, and support a local business in the process!

In time you may find that newcomers might gravitate toward volunteering. Making sure that they are informed of what the role entails, and being open to their ideas is important for keeping them motivated to return. The Kansas PRIDE Webinar on Volunteer Recruitment and Retention has been a great tool for communities looking for ideas on how to catch the eye of potential interested parties.

I know that when I came to Kansas a warm welcome was worth more than gold to me. While at the moment that may not be the case in some communities, there is always an opportunity to change.