pie – Running on Fumes

Throughout my nearly 40 years, (ahem, 39) I’ve had opportunity to explore Texas. From the piney woods of East Texas to the coastal regions of South Texas through the flat lands, prairies, and rolling hills of West Texas (because, yes, somehow all of those exist here), I’m in awe.

Some would say Texas is a huge state that takes 427 days to cross. Some would say Texas is flat, brown, and dead. Some would say Texas is nothing compared to places overseas or even other U.S. states. To this I say – you’re mistaken.

There’s beauty in those rolling hills, where cell service and satellite radio all but disappear. There’s inspiration in the far-flung homes and ranches that provide services and goods to the residents of our nation, and beyond. What you see as brown and dead, I see hard work, generations of people doing what I have no desire to do in working their land and tending livestock, people with families and livelihoods. There’s nothing ugly there.

Have you seen the Rio Grande, water rushing along crevices formed millions of years ago? Have you seen cliffs, running parallel to major highways? Have you looked out over the edge of those roadways and marveled at what was below? Have you experienced a spring of bluebonnets and jonquils? Have you met the people in those small, forgotten towns, the ones who welcome you as family? Have you explored a proper downtown?

What about the incredible food? From pie shops to tacos, Texas’ food scene is unrivaled.

In honor of today’s dissertation defense (which you can find out if I was successful at by following me on Instagram or Facebook), this post is homage to the incredible people and places it took me to and through. Some communities I will most likely never visit again because I have no reason to do so; however, some will forever be in my heart due to the breathtaking stories shared by their inhabitants.

We are not numbers. We are not just constituents. We are human beings. And we all deserve to have our story told with respect, honesty, and genuine love. For the people I met, the people I couldn’t get to, and the immigrants who my work affects, thank you. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.

(The post Waxing Poetic first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)