Survival Guide: How my father taught me social skills while living rurally

Or, how finding liminal space at the library made me understand society better and embrace failing

Negative 1938, Gelatin silver print 1965 by Dorothea Lange. “The Road West / Highway to the West, U.S. 54 Southern New Mexico.” Creative Commons Copyright with permission by: https://www.getty.edu/art/collection/object/108H54

If you grew up in a rural place, like me, or maybe you are living out in the wilderness or perhaps just a little far afield of the beaten path, then you understand what it means when we say we need to “go to town.” It isn’t just having a list of things to do, errands to run, or business to take care of; it is a special event.

My Dad was my primary caretaker growing up, and day after day, we would carefully navigate the veil between life on the land and society. He taught me critical outdoor survival techniques such as avoiding poison oak while carrying firewood, swimming in cold creeks with critters, and being fearless through starlit and obscured nights. And he also attempted to teach me the more obtuse ability to traverse civilization successfully as an adult, from small towns to cities to further afar into foreign lands.

The land is intuitive. If you make a mistake, the consequences are clear. But oh boy, is society hard! Subtext and context mixed with emotional, psychological, and intellectual intelligence, what a gumbo! I fail at this task every day, possibly multiple times. He failed at it daily as well, but his failure was where he taught me his best lessons.