When I came here, you scared me to death. With your terrible smells, your gigantic hills, and your castles with dungeons and dragons lurking around every corner. I didn’t like you at all at first.
But now I’ve come to see the beauty in you. Your parks and beaches are gorgeous and peaceful. Your streets are as clean as diamonds shimmering in the sunlight. When I am at the top of those hills that I hated so much, I turn around and look out and see nothing but beautiful landscapes coming together to form a dazzling view. Your museums inspire me. Your statues and fountains give me peace of mind. When it rains, your views become better and glimmer with brightness rarely matched. When there’s thunder and lightning, the lightning strikes and dances over the sound under an alluring black sky.
When I came here, I was scared by you, but you still loved me. You are beautiful and peaceful, but you excite me. You are wet and cold, but warm and sunny. You are big and confusing, but small enough for me to understand you. The protestors and important people who come here only prove that you are amazing. Thank you for being my home.
Sincerely, Jordan Nunamaker, student
Tacoma School of the Arts