The first day I walked into those hallowed halls, I was immediately hit with huge culture shock. While all of my old friends were from the city, the students at my new school hailed from every suburb in Illinois. The teachers were stern and old-fashioned. The rules were strict. Although my old school didn’t even have a dress code, in Catholic school, it was collared shirts and khakis every day. We went to Mass, prayed in every class, and studied religion regularly. I hadn’t gone to church in years, and now I was learning about the Book of Job and the Gospels every day.

If by some curse you end up in the modest little town of Sanford, North Carolina, you’ll end up driving by a different church about every five miles. On Sundays, and even Wednesdays, the parking lots will be crowded with the towns’ citizens. Living in the South, religion has always had a large part in my life. It has always been the topic of conversations and has always controlled my Sunday mornings, but most importantly it has seeped into the social fabrics of my small hometown.