The Iowa Embarrassment Factor

I’m a tad bummed that we’re already at the end of summer. We’ve had a mild one here in Iowa-cool with occasional bits of rain, like it really never got out of Spring. A good example is the kid’s inflatable pool: every time we inflated it over the summer, the water was still too cool by the end of the afternoon for the kids to thoroughly enjoy it. Typically, when it gets into the 90’s during July & August, you can fill the thing in the morning and after lunch it’s prime for splashing.
The seasons are one of the things that I love about my state, and I realize that my dislike of winter is primarily superficial. I hate that I’m an adult in winter, the dude that has to get up even earlier to shovel the overnight snow off the driveway before work only to have to do it again immediately after work because the city has plowed the snow from the street back on to said driveway.
Ok, so I have a snowblower. But the hard work is still by hand with those plow drifts preventing me to get to the garage.
I talk a good game, but I secretly would miss all four seasons. And that’s part of the reason I stay in the Midwest.
So what keeps me in Iowa?
Good question, and it’s one that I used to struggle with throughout my 20’s. I’m sure if you would have asked me “Will you still be in Iowa after college?” when I was in high school, I would have most assuredly said “Hell no!” This state and these small towns from which we’re from are the plague of death when we’re young. We incorrectly blame them for our predicaments and curse the lack of opportunity that they provide. What we fail to understand is that the limitations our small towns gave us forced us to be resourceful. We may not have had chic clubs with nifty lights and loud electronica, but we could muster up a bonfire in the sandpits by the river, pull up a Camaro with a decent stereo and tap a pony keg in a matter of minutes. Growing up, I lost track of the number of times spent following poorly recited directions to some farm house where a dude you barely knew was having a kegger. The drama of these evenings came from keeping a couple who recently split up away from each other, making sure every one knew the sheriff was patrolling the gravel roads looking for drunk teenagers, or figuring out if Def Leppard’s Pyromania or Quiet Riot’s Metal Health should be the next tape in the cassette deck.
I can see the resourcefulness now, but back then, Iowa was the enemy. I envied those kids in cities with their endless things to do and frantic lifestyles. I wanted out.
Sometimes I paruse Facebook and “catch up” on old friends, to see what they’re up to. More often than not, I won’t friend them-I figure a lifetime has passed since I’ve seen them and, in some cases, I’m embarrassed at how my behavior may have been at that time. Hormones, inexperience, and woefully inept social skill may have caused me to treat some in a manner that they didn’t deserve. It’s probably for the best that they’re not in my radar now, and there’s no amount of apologies that would really make an impact on their perception of me.
I still go to those class reunions-I was the senior class president after all, it’s my obligation-and I have a splendid time each time I attend. The ones that make the greatest impact, I’ve found, are the ones that come back from long distances. The ones who got out.
It’s crazy how there’s this underhanded embarrassment of this state, when the fact that these people got to where they are because of this state. I know of several examples of people getting their foot in the door of some company-sight unseen-because they were originally from Iowa. It’s the idea that they have a strong work ethic because they’re from Iowa, and in some cases there is some truth to that.
Then there are those that don’t leave. I’ve figured out why I haven’t-it actually came from as a sub-topic from therapy-and I’ve come to terms with it and am comfortable with why I’m here. I can think of no better place to raise a child than in Iowa and I’m very proud of the progressive direction this state is taking as of late. It’s like those that stuck it out are now beginning to shape the direction and we’re managing to influence some of our older generations a bit too. You see, it wasn’t that long ago when this state was very conservative. There is a large contingency of social conservatives here, but there are many more fiscal conservatives. These were old farmers that understood a bumper crop one year may see an awful crop the following year, so it’s better to save as much as you can because you don’t know what the future holds. These folks worked long hours, pausing only for Sunday church and the county fair, and they left generations behind them asking “Is this all there is?”
I think those who asked this are the same ones shaping a new future. We’re able to appreciate some of those same values, but we’re not going to work ourselves to the bone just because our fathers and grandfathers did the same. We moved to the city, bought a house in the suburbs and we taxi our kids to soccer practice. We don’t mind that our gay co-worker wants to marry, we don’t care that our presidential candidate is black, and occasionally we like to eat a tenderloin sandwich.
Over a hundred years ago, my great great grandparents boarded a steamship and traveled from Sweden to America. From some reason, they ended up in the fertile grounds of Southwest Iowa in a climate that wasn’t much different than the place they left. Evidently, it felt like home to them.
At some point in time, there’s a possibility that I will leave this state, but I don’t stress about it. I’m happy with where I’m at and even happier that my kids will probably be raised in this state too. We’re close enough to Chicago, Minneapolis, St. Louis, Kansas City, Milwaukee, etc. that we can experience them with the luxury of being able to get in the car and return to a slower pace in just a matter of hours. It’s the first thing I notice when I’m in the city-the stress of existing-and the first thing that I appreciate when I get back home. We do move a bit slower around here, because we understand that if you don’t put on the brakes sometimes, you’ll miss what’s around you.