An oldy but a goody...Liberal Atheist in the Heartland (Originally published July 2017)

Day one: liberal atheist in the heartland...

Met nice woman who grew up here but moved away 17 years ago. She liked my shirt (Rogue NASA) and appreciated that I believe in science. When I told her where I was headed, she bought me a beer, told me good luck and to "embrace the ranch." 

Bartender was lovely, grew up here. Never heard of Ashland, NE. 

Speed limit sign, 75mph. Well done NE

Road name "Country Club Rd" unpaved and dusty. I like the irony.

Walk into my room. Large cross hanging on the wall. Mark is right, I'm being "re-educated."

Headed to state park to scope it out. Did see several winery signs. All is not lost.

Day One: part 2

To be fair to NE - Night one: liberal atheist in the heartland

Went to beautiful state park with sweeping landscapes, stables, and even a quintessential train in the background.

Saw a mama deer with her two fawns.

Watch a lovely sunset (OK not the full thing, I watched Children of the Corn too many times as a kid - inside before dark!)

I was sent here for an excellent training on youth and families but it feels more like I was sent here to get clean, to find god, or to die.  only thing that has kept me from fleeing is that there are enough outsiders who also find this terrifying. Why they couldn't host this at a hotel in Omaha I'llnever understandDay two- liberal atheist in the heartland

There are no words to describe the place I am staying. I can't decide whether it's operating more like a prison or a rehab, but either way they have put restrictions on when we can eat, where we can walk, and who we are allowed to speak to if we encounter someone. There is spotty Wi-Fi at best and only one bar on my phone, calls keep dropping so they have advised us that if our families would like to speak to us they can call them and they will try to arrange it.

On the agenda for tonight is a strongly encouraged campfire when there is a heat index of 107°. I guess when you are in the 7th level of hell it doesn't matter how hot it is. 

I think I'll take this time to write some grant applications...Or to spruce up my resume (just kidding). 

P.s. - while writing with a flare of drama for emphasis and entertainment, the experiences are real, can't make this up. Lol.

Day three- liberal atheist in the heartland

Skipped breakfast as the offering at "camp" was veggie sausage and some sort of soupy yellow substance. Thankful I packed some Luna bars. 

Training was long, but good. Learned a lot about myself, how to brace for my children's adolescence, and ways to help colleagues work better with foster youth and families. 

Conspired before lunch to escape tonight and find civilization. It's amazing to me that they've served meatloaf, brisket, and a hamburger and all three tasted the same, had the same consistency, and left the same impression in my digestive system. After "lunch" 4 more ladies joined the quiet uprising. One woman was bitten by something out by the campfire last night. She has a bruise the size of RI on her leg with swelling. We are all pretending this is normal.

The training wraps up and news of our plans spread. We have to ditch some as there are only two cars and we can only fit so many.

Like a scene from Orange is the New Black six of us make a run for it to an outlet mall where we can shop, have a cold alcoholic drink, and real food. We blast "This Girl is on Fire" as we drive away toward freedom. 

We arrive at the outdoor outlets and realize it's too hot to walk store to store. We head for sustenance instead. Only none of the three places sell alcohol. Yelp to the rescue...

Or so we thought. Our meals were barely edible, they didn't know how to make a vodka with cranberry and they sold something called a jiffy burger which is basically peanut butter spread on meat. A couple brave souls tried it. We may not see them tomorrow.

We decide to hit a convenience store as I've offered to play bartender back in the room if we can smuggle it in. We go in and meet a man who I was convinced was on stilts with a voice that shook our very souls as if plucked right out of a Criminal Minds episode. We decide our captors at "camp" might be safer, so dejected from our disappointing run to freedom we head back.

But as I've come to expect, NE held something pretty special in store for me as I returned...a lighthouse. And I don't get the sense it was built ironically. So ponder that for a moment. A tall, real lighthouse.

Going to plug away on my grant some more but thankful for the laughs shared with my fellow escapees.

Day four - Liberal atheist in the heartland

I'm heartened to wake up to all the nice words of encouragement and to know that my "adventures" are bringing people joy. It makes it all the more bearable. I'm heartened that is until I see breakfast. I take a pass and decide that this place may be good for my waistline as the "food" is barely edible. Luna bar for breakfast again.

Training was an interesting exploration of cognitive, social and emotional competencies that are needed to thrive. I wonder if Nebraska is a model site for doing this why is it Nebraskans aren't exercising better self-compassion and demanding better food. At 9:30 a.m. all I can think about is a steak. I was led to believe there would be good steak.

We do a team exercise demonstrating these competencies about surviving a crash landing on the moon. I have realized that I should keep to myself that the pistol might be a better top five item to bring depending on who I have crashed with - it might scare my team mates. So outwardly I talk about water, oxygen, a map of the moon and a parachute to keep our things from floating away. Some of my teammates don't understand the idea of gravity or what it would mean to be on the dark side of the moon with no sun or magnetic pull from the earth. I secretly weep for the death of science in this country, but take comfort that if catastrophe strikes those who have turned their back on science and reason will perish (plus I secretly kept the pistol...lol...kind of).

At lunch I realize that all the uneaten food from yesterday has been re-purposed. We are publicly admonished for leaving and not eating the dinner last night resulting in said left overs. The chef mills about the room inspecting our plates. I resort to the age-old trick of moving food around my plate to make it look like I've eaten and then place my napkin on it to hide the evidence.

I take a brief break to discover that there is suddenly Wi-Fi. My hopes of internet are quickly dashed by the realization that many sites, like Facebook and even Survey Monkey, are blocked from use. I do a double take to make sure we are not in China. Nope, its Nebraska and this "camp" is censoring our limited internet.

Starvation is taking hold by 6 p.m. and I find myself looking forward to dinner. I fill my plate and eat everything on it. I am so hungry that I don't even care how it tastes, but need something to keep me from passing out. 6:30 p.m. I am in my room doubled over from a stomach ache. I have chose unwisely.

Luna bars for breakfast and lunch it is. I vow tomorrow I will sneak off by myself and find a good steak and beer even if it means driving the hour to Omaha. I will bring no one with me, it draws too much attention and then I need consensus from the vegans.

Nearly done with my grant but realize that my cognitive function may be diminished from my improper nourishment. I've suggested other read it before we submit. Still no word from the Nebraskans here why there is a lighthouse.

Day Five: Liberal atheist in the heartland

Didn't even go to breakfast today, chose to sleep longer knowing my tasty Luna bar was within arms reach.

Started the training with a sense of purpose knowing that tonight I would finally satiate my palate with something worthy of the calories. Was a good wrap up day and I have truly enjoyed getting to know the trainers and my fellow trainees.

The host for our training stood up in near tears apologized that we were so unhappy with the food. She had overheard some complaining (not me, I saved my dissatisfaction for this little outlet and tried to mind my manners while here) and had gotten word from colleagues back at the foundation that she works for that we were all suffering (this one while not directly my fault does tie directly back to me so I naturally feel like such an ass). People chimed in that it was all lovely and fine. That the place was great. I chalk this up to people being kind and trying to take care of one another.

But then it happened. There are 32 people in the training, with 8 of us not from Nebraska and the rest from all over the state. And 5 of the non-Nebraskans start legitimately discussing with about 5 of the more local folks how absolutely in love with the camp that they are. They talk about loving the camp atmosphere, the sloppy food, and even the terribly uncomfortable beds (and I never even mentioned the sub-par shower temperatures). All of it, they love all of it. Observing Stockholm Syndrome up close and personnel is something to behold. These folks started the week on the same page but had fallen in love with camp, the very campy food, the fireside sing-a-longs, the busing tables, etc. They don't mind the restrictions and find it comforting in a way. They are now seemingly offended that some of us - including many Nebraskans - can not wait to get out of here and get back home. One talks about wanting to open something like this back home...I know one colleague I'm not visiting! I definitely say to each their own, but the switch is still pretty interesting.

Word of my plans to find steak got out as I tried to quietly ask a few super lovely Nebraskans where I should go. Five of us, including 2 of the 3 trainers (one of whom got down on his knees and held my hand asking to join us and then sighed a big sigh when I said of course), head for Lincoln where there was cell service, hotels, shiny restaurants and of course the University of Nebraska (Go Huskers!). My first sip of beer (brewed on site) and my first bite of steak (DELICIOUS) instantly send my brain into a state of calmness. I can feel the tension in my shoulders lighten as the familiar of actual food makes me euphoric.

I enjoyed a lovely little visit to Lincoln and would absolutely not mind coming here or Omaha for a training again. Still probably not for this long, but I wouldn't run screaming out the door if someone asked me to go. People were friendly, generous, and kind. What you envision of our Midwestern neighbors. They went out of their way to make sure that us "interlopers" left feeling like there was so much more than "camp." One more day and then I'm east coast bound. One fellow east coaster who now lives here did grab my arm to tell me she was jealous and longed to get back to Boston (also a fellow HC Alum). I feel for her, but I'm not a marine, so I'll be leaving her behind. As fast as humanly possible.

Thank you all for indulging my long posts while I tried to find humor in a less than ideal situation. Hoping my last day yields nothing, but stay tuned there could be one more. Thanks to all the Nebraskans (who enjoyed me reading them my posts) who kept me sane and helped make this one for the books.