12 OCTOBER 3-9, 2024 westword.com WESTWORD | MUSIC | CAFE | CULTURE | NIGHT+DAY | NEWS | LETTERS | CONTENTS | GROWING UP AURORA: ACO ALL DAY BY BENNITO L. KELT Y Even though I’m not very good at reassuring my parents that they made all the right de- cisions about how to raise me, at least I’ve persuaded them that they made the right decision about where to raise me: Aurora, Colorado. Like a lot of Coloradans, we’re Midwest- ern transplants. We came from Columbia, Missouri, for my dad’s job managing books at the Anschutz Medical Campus. Growing up off South Parker Road and South Peoria Street, I felt like I had it all. I’m the son of an immigrant from Mexico; my classmates and friends had parents from Mexico, Eritrea, El Salvador, Ukraine, In- donesia, Uganda, Honduras, Belarus and a lot more places. I went through the Cherry Creek School District, in a path that led from Polton Elementary to Prairie Middle and Overland High School. In fi rst grade, I helped kids from Mexico who relied on Spanish and then saw them learn English and become better students than I was in high school. I walked to middle school with a friend, Vlad, who never shut up about being from Ukraine. Both my sister and I had best friends in high school who were habesha, the ethnic group from Eritrea and Ethiopia. My favorite childhood memories are of taking the 121 and 130 RTD buses with my mom to the Aurora Mall to catch a movie at Century 16. When I got older and started going out on my own, I’d walk to the Nine Mile Station — back when it was the last stop on the H Line — and ride it into Denver. In high school, I would bum rides from my friends with cars to get lunch on Havana Street, mostly for fast food at Chipotle and Taco Bell — where they used to have our picture up for the largest order — but also for Sushi Katsu and Katsu Ramen. Before I was a teenager, Havana Street was where my parents bought groceries at Costco Whole- sale and Cub Foods before it was H Mart, and would take me to Red Robin for birthdays. That all seemed so normal, so it was funny that Aurora became a magnet for crazy headlines. When I was thirteen, I kept seeing clips of terrorist Najibullah Zazi’s Aurora apartment on Good Morning America. It stuck with me, because his two-fl oor suburban apartment building looked like all the others in Aurora, and there it was on national news. During summer break in 2011, my mom came in my room early on July 20 and told me there had been a shooting at the Century 16 theater. I remember my friends texting to see if I was all right. As time went on, a friend or a classmate would surprise me by telling me they were in the theater that night. And while I was in high school, one of my teachers was on the Today show defending his criticisms of George Bush to Matt Lauer, while another was breaking ground as one of the fi rst teachers to get fi red for having photos of her twerking on her secret, racy Twitter account (this was before OnlyFans). Meanwhile, some Overland students were threatening to sue the school for its response to a wrestler’s death, and others were skip- ping class to join ISIS. I felt like I had grown up in the real-life South Park. I fi nd it ironic that I’m now a journalist writing about my hometown because for- mer president Donald Trump says Aurora is being taken over by Venezuelan gangs. All those other tragic and wild headlines about Aurora never bothered me, but the ones about Venezuelan gangs do. I wish we had a little more spirit. This isn’t a perfect city, and we’ve had some de- served bad press. But if my neighbors and classmates are immigrants or transplants like me, we all came here because it was better than another place. In my mind, it’s the best, and there’s no place I’d rather be than in ACO all day. A HOME BEHIND THE HEADLINES BY HANNAH METZGER My hometown has been burdened by a nega- tive reputation for all my life. When I tell anyone I’m from Aurora, I’m inundated by people’s worst perceptions of the city. Where the movie theater shooting was? Where Elijah McClain was killed? And now, where Venezuelan gangs have taken over? Although the Venezuelan gang accusa- tions are more fi ction than fact, even the true tragedies that taint the city don’t fully refl ect my reality of being born and raised in Aurora. To me, Aurora is where I lived a happy childhood on a quiet neighborhood street. Where I spent mornings splashing through the Cherry Creek Dog Park with my family; afternoons running between the trees in Nick’s Garden Center; evenings ice skating at the pond rink in Southlands; and nights roaming the pop-up carnivals outside the Aurora Mall. It is still where I go to get my favorite foods in the state, from Tacos Selene on Sixth Avenue, to East Cafe on Mississippi, to Sushi Katsu on Havana (where my friends and I learned to hide the all-you-can-eat rolls in our backpacks to avoid extra charges). It is where I received an education at one of the best elementary and middle schools in the state, and at an Aurora Public Schools high school that introduced me to journal- ism. It is where I learned alongside endlessly talented classmates, many of whom were fi rst-generation Americans with parents from countries such as Vietnam, Mexico and Ethiopia, who expanded my view of the world. I live in downtown Denver now, but Au- rora is still where many of the best people I know lead content, peaceful lives indepen- dent from the national news narrative calling their home a hellscape. I’ve grown used to snarky comments from college classmates asking if I’m from “one of the good parts” of Aurora and jokes from Colorado transplant dates asking me if I’m “dangerous” because of my hometown. But hearing these sentiments during presidential debates and from national media pundits pierces deeper. Aurora is not its worst headlines. Like anywhere, it has issues that should be ad- dressed. Yes, there is crime and violence, and dysfunction plagues the police department and local government — all problems that warrant discussion and media attention. But the city does not deserve half of the vitriol I’ve seen thrown at it throughout my life, particularly on the national stage in recent weeks. The ordinary lived experience of Aurora residents who love their home can exist simul- taneously with the city’s troubles, though the former is too frequently left out of the narrative. I ventured into Aurora for a late-night pickleball game last week. The evening felt picturesque as R&B music fi lled the warm summer air. A friend’s dog chased stray balls along the fence. Neighborhood children dueled with toy lightsabers in the dark fi eld beside the court, their movements illumi- nated only by red and green fl ashes. The action paused for a moment when we heard what sounded like a series of gunshots ring out far in the distance. Laughter quickly fi lled the silence, and the game continued. Bennito Kelty got in the game at the Aurora Sports Complex. MARIA ELENA KELT Y Hannah Metzger is still high on life in Aurora. DIANE MOON
