Monday, March 26, 2018

the question of home.

In the past few years, there has been a major rise in state outlines. You know: shirts, home décor, jewelry, all emblazoned with your state of choice. I, for one, am totally into it. As a born-and-raised South Dakotan and a card-carrying Minnesotan, I have duel loyalties. I buy the South Dakota stuff and the Minnesota stuff, and I feel great about both.

But you know where I do run into a problem?

Home.

Many of the state things are just that: states. But there are more and more that proudly state (see what I did there?) HOME. The “o” in “home” is often a little image of the state itself, which is really quite adorable. There are mugs and koozies and super soft sweatshirts that all declare where your home is.

But if you’re like me, I don’t really know which state to call home… so I generally avoid the “home” stuff. (Except in the case of the irresistibly adorable keychains: I bought one of each.) 
Except now, my keys are huge.
And usually, this is ok.

Until I ran into a truly beautiful “home” shirt at a boutique here in Luverne on Saturday.

The flowers, the strips, the gold foil… it was gorgeous, and I wanted it.

But it said “home.”

This shirt was forcing me to choose. Is it time to call Minnesota my home? Would that betray my South Dakota roots?

In some cases, Minnesota is most certainly my home. I went to college here, which were certainly some of the best years of my life. I lived in Minneapolis for a couple of years, which I grew to know and love. James and I bought our first home here, which is where we started our married life. I discovered the glorious wonder of the North Shore, which is now deep in my soul. I feel a new attachment to Prince. When I’m outside of Luverne and people ask me where I’m from, I say Minnesota.

But.

I was born in South Dakota. My parents live in South Dakota, and most of my best friends live in South Dakota. When I go home for Christmas, it’s to South Dakota. Two of my absolute favorite places on earth (Brookings and Lake Poinsett) are in South Dakota. My library career started in South Dakota. If someone says something mean about South Dakota, I get defensive. My great grandparents on both sides came over from Scandinavia and Germany and found their place in South Dakota. When people in Luverne ask me where I’m from, I say South Dakota.

James also does not have a true Minnesota pedigree. James was not born in Minnesota, but he did grow up here. He was born in Arizona, and his family moved to Minnesota when he was six.  Though he was not born here, James feels unequivocally that Minnesota is his home. And of course he does: Minnesota is where he grew up; where he became the person he is today. Besides a brief year-long stint in Sioux Falls, James has not lived outside of Minnesota since he was six. Minnesota is it for him.

I do love Minnesota – but there is certainly a possibility that I will not live here forever. I can call Minnesota my home for now, but is that strong and deep enough to wear on a shirt for all the world to see?

South Dakota, though, will always be my home. It’s where I’m from, and it’s where my roots run deep. I can live anywhere in the world, and it will have always started in South Dakota.

So what did I do about the t-shirt in the boutique?

I went directly to the manufacturer and ordered a South Dakota version.

At the end of the day, South Dakota is home.