My town

I was raised in a small town in the Berkshires nestled in a valley surrounded by mountains. There was only one road into town and one road out at the opposite end of the valley. It's the kind of town where progress trundles down the interstate highways of 91 and 90, never venturing far off the exit ramps, never settling down or poking its head into the nooks and crannies of the Berkshire Mountains. My town was not the moneyed, chic boroughs of the lower Berkshires. No Yoga studios, boutique hotels or Michelin star restaurants in my town. My town had abandoned mills, vacant lots and churches. Lots of churches and people lived on the Polish side of town or the French side of town. We went to schools on our side of town and rarely went to the other side of town. The Polish Bakery was the only exception. Everyone went to the Polish Bakery for rye bread at least once a week and our social life centered on the church. My mother made her friends through the Society of St Anne. My father's friends could be found in the mill where he labored his whole life. We put chains on our tires in the winter, swam in the local pond in the summer and never ventured out of the town. No one ever thought of leaving. It was the place where I learned about love and heartache and ambition and friendship and jealousy. Mostly it was where I learned about the confines of small town living and the cost to those who leave and those who stay. The people of a small town are like a well-drilled army. They are a closed group. They are disciplined and they are loyal. They march in unison and will stand with you through all the challenges of life. You will never face difficulty alone. They will always be there to support and help you but woe to the person who wishes to leave. Woe to the person who chooses a different path. They tolerate neither deserters nor interlopers. New residents are regarded with suspicion and those who chose a different path are punished. This was my town. A town I simultaneously loved and hated. A town where I longed to escape and feared to leave.