At times, it feels that in order to be noticed in this world, one has to do something remarkable, unprecedented, awe-inspiring, cruel, or unusual– in other words, something beyond ordinary, something extraordinary. Despite that, there’s a marvelous beauty in the human story of the ordinary.
We all have a story, and in order to fully recognize our humanity, we must value the stories of those who are especially ordinary, those who are extra ordinary.
Some are lucky enough to be recognized for their efforts. We’d like to tell the stories of everyone else. We approached a complete stranger and asked them to tell us their story.
With the Turnpike Troubadours’ “Good Lord Lorrie” blaring through the speakers of her 1997 Ford F-350, Angela Urrea, a freshman at the University of Wyoming, and her friends drive past the Hasen Arena west of Laramie.
As the group nears Twin Buttes, Angela watches the sunlight glimmer across the reservoir’s frozen water. She takes a deep breath.
“It does not get super cold in California and sometimes it’s nice to be super cold. It’s like a breath of fresh air, even though it’s extremely cold. Literally and so to speak,” Angela said.
Angela moved from California at the beginning of the school year. She never felt as though she belonged there.
“I hated where I was in California. I, very much, didn’t like the people around me, or the way they acted, or saw me.
“If I wore my boots and went out, we’d get terrible stares. I think it’s just because people don’t understand, or don’t want to understand, or be open to other people’s opinions or even how they look.”
Beyond the way she dressed, another aspect of Angela’s life caused her to feel out of place– her truck. Despite California having some of the strictest environmental laws on the books, and large trucks being somewhat unusual in her area, Angela worked hard to buy her own truck.
“I love my truck and not everybody in California loves my truck because it’s polluting the environment, which I do understand, but it is mine.”
“I wouldn’t be me without my truck. My truck is extremely important to me. Even though I hadn’t been to Wyoming, it felt like something that didn’t belong to California. But it was there, I feel like it helped me get through California. A lot.”
Angela felt alienated in California. She was looking for somewhere she could be her true self. “It’ll be a lot better in Wyoming,” she told herself.
“Where I live, the Golden Gate Bridge is a giant attraction. There’s a bunch of hiking trails and it’s beautiful– it is. It’s just all super compact, and there’s no real open land, like there is here.
“I definitely came here for the flats, even if it’s windy as hell, the mountain ranges, and just a lot more like literal freedom– because it’s so open and beautiful.”
For Angela, moving to Wyoming provided her with a new sense of freedom, a place where she could be free from the confinements of her Californian home town’s social norms.
“I’m sure if you’re on the side of the road in California, no one would really stop for you. Or ask ‘Are you okay’.”
“But I feel like, more or less, people from Wyoming, or people that go here, are generally a lot nicer.”
Angela had opportunities to attend schools that are even more affordable than the University of Wyoming, but fell in love with Laramie and was not concerned about the cost of tuition.
“I think this was one of the most expensive schools for me to go to,” Angela said. “I chose a college off of location, and not education.”
