My hometown is a small town crushed between two sides of America. The working professionals who moved there to raise their children, and the rural locals who have been there for generations and in many cases, struggle in blue collar jobs to barely survive. Growing up there was not nearly as pleasant of an experience as you might think. Throughout high school I saw the effects of such a great divide in population as it tore apart the members of the community, especially the kids who called that town home.
Over the five years since I have left I have seen my Facebook newsfeed clutter with teenage mothers, prison sentences and tragic deaths. The town is awash with hard drugs and underage drinking. The wealth of the white collar kids brings in cocaine, heroin and all matter of illegal substances. Predictably, and incredibly unjustly, it is the drugs never seem to hurt them. However, the poverty of the blue collar kids keeps them drowning in the chemical sea introduced by the upper middle class. That is the town I grew up in. I am glad I got out when I had a chance.