No matter where you go, every place has it’s “good parts” and “bad parts”.

Even my own zip code, despite being one of the richest zip codes in the Denver metro area, has it’s “bad parts”. In the zip code next door, it’s not uncommon to be accosted by panhandlers at stoplights and by the mall. Hell, petty crime’s gone up significantly since I moved to west Littleton, which has caused stores like Target and Michael’s to put certain items behind lock-and-key in order to deter crime. 

Even then, I feel relatively safe in my neck of the woods. Ok, I’m still skittish and try really hard not to walk alone to my truck in the dark. But, this side of town is nothing like the inner city, where I’m about to attend school (for the second time in my life). 

No, I’ve never attended university in my life. But, I did go to a small, all-girls charter school in middle/high school, just a mile south of the University of Colorado campus in Denver. 

Back then, I liked the city about as much as I like it now. Despite never going hunting and rarely going fishing, I still managed to hold the title of “redneck” at Girls Athletic Leadership School (GALS). I fascinated my lifelong city-dwelling classmates with stories of “helping” herd escaped cattle back into the pasture on the family farm, and going to my great uncle Courtney’s house to ride horses and eat wild game he harvested in the fall. 

In reality, I had very little experience being a “farm girl” back then. But, the little experience I did have in the country, was still lightyears beyond what experience the rest of my peers had. And it was enough to spur me into getting my hunter’s education license, volunteering at horse rescues nearly every weekend, and getting more involved on the family farm whenever I was there. 

On the flipside, my teachers and peers at GALS took it upon themselves to show me around downtown Denver, especially since my school was located in the heart of the Santa Fe Arts District. When I started attending GALS, it was a small school of 300 students in a rather rundown elementary school that hadn’t seen students in years. Because of that, there weren’t enough classrooms to accommodate many of the electives GALS wanted to offer. So, we walked to places that could accommodate us. 

I had art classes at the Center for Visual Art. I had PE at the Boys and Girls club when our gym was closed for renovations. Or, we’d jog around Sunken Gardens Park, play baseball at West High School’s baseball field, or tennis in their tennis courts. The list of classes and places we’d walk to for them goes on. Hell, for field trips, we’d take the light rail instead of getting on busses. 

While I did gain a lot of valuable experience from my time spent going to school downtown, I never really appreciated it. During those years, I was riddled with anxiety and depression because I felt so stifled by the city life. I literally begged my parents to drive me to a horse ranch in Watkins, where I spent my mornings mucking stalls and filling up hay nets. 

The combination of GALS, Tae Kwon Do, and volunteering at horse ranch kept me physically very strong and healthy, all things considered. But mentally, I wasn’t doing so hot. I could barely contain my joy when my mom announced that we were moving west, where I’d attend a tiny private Christian school just a few short miles from the foothills. 

Oh… if only I knew back then what I know now.