Running into the Fire: my return to middle-America
I spent the first 22 years of my life in the Midwest — then I sprinted away, vowing never to return. Here is why I’m going back.
I resented my home state of Wisconsin growing up. It was the only life I knew, but I contrasted it to the glamorous life I saw on television: the easy-going lives of the 90210 kids and the Bayside Tigers on Saved By The Bell, the trendy counterculture VJs on MTV, and the intellectual hipsters doing beat poetry in their Brooklyn cafes.
As an effeminate, vegan, 13-year-old self-proclaimed Social Anarchist living in steak-&-potato country — I felt completely out of place. It was the type of place where the national pastimes were shooting guns and drinking & driving (sometimes all three simultaneously?). I’m not being purposefully disparaging or libelous —these are the facts:
I stayed in-state for college due to some unfortunate events (buy my tell-all book) and suffered constant misery and sober loneliness throughout undergrad. When most were getting drunk and hooking up at house parties, I was busy becoming an eBay “powerseller” — selling hundreds of items for several dollars more than I paid — including standing in the snow for Hannah Montana tickets (entrepreneurialism):
You’d think, “Oh, no big deal. You can have fun without alcohol.” If you’re thinking that…you weren’t raised in Wisconsin. 7 of the top 10 Drunkest Cities in America are right near where I grew up. I knew growing up that something felt…off. Everyone being constantly intoxicated was probably not the worldwide norm — I knew this because my national news anchors, and Mickey Mouse, didn’t have slurred speech after all. I had a few friends growing up who also abstained — but one by one, they left me for the other side. Eventually, I was the only person in Wisconsin (that I was aware of) who didn’t drink. And I was lonely.
In 2010, I made my way out west, like a cliche (or one of my childhood idols: Fievel Mousekewitz.) I was immediately enamored with people’s relationship to my political ideals AND alcohol. People in Oregon drank beer as a social activity, or because they enjoyed the brewing process, or even because of the nuances and complexities of the flavor — and did so in moderation. What a concept!
So — here and now in 2019 — what has changed? Have I suddenly decided I want to become a gun-toting, beer-guzzling, steak eater in my old age?
Nah. But I do want to be friends with those people. And I want to live somewhere that, if someone chooses to eat steak in this one-chance-at-life they have, they can do so without being vilified as a terrible person in every regard to their character and moral standing.
I’m writing this from my apartment in Los Angeles — a wonderfully diverse city that is an epicenter of arts, media, and entertainment. It’s simply a wonderful place. But, it’s also a place where it’s socially acceptable to get verbally assaulted for NOT driving a Prius (full disclosure: I DO drive a Prius) or for publicly admitting to eating beef.
I absolutely think it’s important to be socially and environmentally conscious — but many of these same people produce more CO2 in their five bedroom bungalows and on their international holidays than any of the steak eaters I know back home — but their carbon is “cultural” whereas middle-American carbon usage is waste. (Don’t get me into the ethics of the mining of the rare minerals used to make your precious iPad, Todd.) Also, there are plenty of socially/environmentally conscious folks in the middle of the country — they just don’t have access to as large of a megaphone, or, they choose not to use one.
Politics do matter. Anyone who says they “don’t do politics” always confuse me — since every facet of life IS politics — down to the price of gas and McNuggets. My home state of Wisconsin is more confused politically than ever — due to sorting AND gerrymandering. We just ousted our TEA-party union-busting governor for a left-ish public school Superintendent who actually believes in the value of education. WOW! #progress — but then, several months later, elect an anti-LGBTQ bigot to the state supreme court who doesn’t believe in public education or worker’s rights. What?! How can such opposing values coexist within the same boundaries?
When I was young — I would get mad at the system. “Blow it up! Tear it down!” I would profess, “It’s broken. American democracy is a joke!” But now…as I grow old and crotchety — I have become much more a fan of blaming the voters. I still believe millions of those voters are disenfranchised (through criminal justice bias and racist voter ID and immigration laws) in ways that benefit conservatives — but at the end of the day, when we have 5% of certain demographics showing up for midterm elections — gerrymandering and voter suppression aren’t the ONLY cause.
On July 1, 1971, the 26th Amendment of the United States lowered the federal voting age from 21 to 18. Young people’s response, since then, has mostly been: meh. Young people have no shortage of opinions — all Americans are great at having those (see facebook.com for proof), the problem is turning those opinions into civic engagement. We are a fundamentally flawed country when it comes to taking our democracy for granted — but…that starts in PUBLIC SCHOOLS. It’s a perpetual cycle.
Washington Post: Many young people don’t vote because they never learned how. Here’s a free class now in schools trying to change that.
Despite this — I have faith! Mostly…in young people. Although they are terrible at getting to the polls — they are overwhelmingly progressive and forward-thinking. Wisconsin progressives may have lost the state supreme court until 2023 — but I think young people have the ability to be ready for that shift.
Not only that — but I truly believe the Midwest is home to the most genuine people I’ve ever met — anywhere in the world. (Agreeable and genuine are not synonyms) It is also a place where millions of great people, programs, and ideas reside. It is also the birthplace to my personal foray into public service.
Despite good intentions--a lot of cultural divides are increasing. A book that influenced me during my move out west was The Big Sort by Bill Bishop. It talks about how America, due to our increasing geographic mobility, is increasingly sorting itself into like-minded echo-chambers.
Whenever I even utter to someone who moved the the coasts (I’ve lived on both) that I wouldn’t mind moving back to the Midwest, I always get the same reaction: “Ew, why? NOT ME! I don’t miss those Trumpsters/bigots/backwards people etc.”
Well…I do miss them. We claim to value diversity — but when it comes to diversity of thought, we want to be guarded. We want all opinions that disagree (or even refute) ours to be censored out of our periphery. I will admit — moving out to Oregon was a godsend for 22-year-old me. I could finally spread my wings and be my true self without fear of judgement. But, eventually, it grew old. I was growing soft and complacent from the lack of challenge and guaranteed (passive aggressive) comfort — every day afforded me an opportunity for a (figurative) participation trophy. I wasn’t growing. And my vote had little/no power.
But, one thing I do think needs to happen, is for young people to feel like they can spread their wings and be themselves. To discover their true selves REGARDLESS of where they were born. Young people do NOT have the luxury of geographic mobility. My niece and nephew cannot decide, like I’m able to, “Enough with these anti-abortion, pro-gun people! I’m out! I’m gonna go get an açaí bowl in LA!” And, for that reason, I want to reintegrate.
As someone who worked on rural policy for one of the most “liberal presidents” in American history (I realize Obama is an obvious centrist, for the record) — I feel like I empathize with both sides of the political divide (despite agreeing with 98+% of policies of one of the two sides).
I most-definitely know what it feels like to be a political minority. It’s exhausting and demoralizing to feel like nobody agrees with you. For you to feel so passionately about certain issues in society — but to also feel like such an isolated weirdo. I think for, as terrible as social media is, it does provide young people with connections to ideas outside of their geographic purview. When I tutored youth in inner-city Milwaukee, I had a handful of them tell me they had never even been to Lake Michigan.
We’re talking about 50 blocks! If nobody has taken the time or effort to guide them 50 blocks to show them a majestic and beautiful natural resource — nobody can expect them to run away 3,000 miles like I did to “find their people”.
So…I guess that brings me to my decision to return. And my reason for feeling like a hypocrite for running away for a safe haven (and oftentimes resenting it) in the first place. A lot of folks don’t have the luxury of running away from their issues or problems. The more of us who do have that luxury, and take it, the more assimilated and homogeneous communities will become in their diversity of thought. That will result in safe little neighborhoods — but divided counties, and an even more divided country. Joining a community group to find common ground takes a lot more time or effort than filling a U-haul — but, like my old boss Barack used to say:
“Hard work is hard.” - President Barack H. Obama
Coasties have been able to gain some insight into middle-America without moving (back) there. Through popular books such as A Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance and Educated by Tara Westover — liberal elites (us) have been able to experience the “non-traditional” lifestyles of these (them) folks. I’ve been a vocal critic of these books — they feel less like useful insight and more like a quick drive-through at the zoo.
“Didn’t you know I’m a Midwest cultural anthropologist now? I watched an episode of Dirty Jobs that took place in Iowa!”
Probably not a popular opinion — but I don’t think this “insight” helps reduce any divides or increases any empathy. Quite the contrary.
So, in the end, I’m sure anyone on the coasts who is reading this is thinking, “Does Craig think he’s better than me because he moved back to the Midwest like the brave, brave man that he is while I stay in my safe cocoon of happiness?”
The answer: Yes. Yes I do.* **
Related Reading:
- New York Times: Go Midwest, Young Hipster (oof, read that first sentence)
- Go Dog, Go! (best book of all-time)
- Psychology Today: Be Careful What You Focus On (see below***)
- Washington Post: Many young people don’t vote because they never learned how. Here’s a free class now in schools trying to change that.
- The Big Sort by Bill Bishop
**You are not allowed to use this, or any other piece of evidence, to criticize me for being a hypocrite if/when I flee and return to one of the elitist coasts in the future
***Part of my geographic movement can be attributing to the focusing illusion — a cognitive bias that over-emphasizes the effects of a future event.
“The focusing illusion could also be called “I’ll be happy when…” It can lead us to pine for major changes, such as moving to a new city, starting a business, or even meeting “the one.” But as Amie M. Gordon writes in Psychology Today, “be careful when making life-altering decisions. Sure you can get a bigger house in another city, but if it means a longer commute, is it really worth it? Are you actually going to be happy moving to another state if it means leaving behind your family?”
The author then postulates upon my lived experience:
“Humor me for a second and tell me who you think is happier — someone living in California or in Ohio. Most people (whether from California or Ohio), guess California. But if you do what Schkade and Kahneman (1998) did and actually ask people in California and Ohio about their current life satisfaction, they don’t differ.
When you believe that one change or accomplishment will transform your life into a fairy tale, that’s the focusing illusion at work. It’s closely related to the concept of ‘post-marathon syndrome.’ This is a well-documented state of sadness, letdown, and aimlessness that surfaces after reaching a big goal, like running a marathon.”
Well…darn me if that ain’t relatable!
K bye.
Craig Wiroll is a frozen custard aficionado from the Midwest. He is the author of 26 unpublished books that mysteriously burned in a barn fire in 2014. He has-been a reality television “star”, game show failure, Asian elephant rehabilitator, waterfall repairman, video game and raw garlic eating champion, and also worked at Pizza Hut and The White House.
He lives alone with nobody — oftentimes out of the back of his Prius.
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