learning to love South Dakota.

My home state and I have had our fair share of struggles over the years. Like pretty much everyone I knew, I had lived in the same state - and even in the same town - all my life. And, like every small town girl with big dreams (picture: the scene in Beauty and the Beast where Belle is singing dramatically about her provincial life), I imagined the day that I would get the hell out of South Dakota and live the exotic life that I always hoped.

And when the time really did come for me to leave South Dakota, where did I go?

Minnesota.

My four-year stint in Morris for college was followed by brief tenures in Denver and New Orleans before returning to Minneapolis for almost two years... only to move to Sioux Falls and eventually "settle down" in southwestern Minnesota. My little corner of the state is less than 15 miles from the South Dakota state line, and I work in Sioux Falls. So much for leaving South Dakota behind.

And even if I had moved across the country and renounced my home state, I could never leave it completely. It is, after all, where I was born and raised. My parents and grandparents live here; my oldest friends live here. It's in my blood.

My problems with South Dakota didn't really start until I got to college. Sure, I thought that this was not the place for me - South Dakota was too small for the BIG THINGS I was sure to achieve, typical sheltered small-town kid delusions - but I didn't know who I really was yet.

Up until college, I was under the delusion that I was a Republican. Why? Not because I took the time to get to know the candidates and their policies - oh no. Because pretty much everyone around me was Republican (save for just a few dear friends... oh, how I should've listened). So I wore my John Thune shirt with pride and happily voted for Bush/Cheney in our 2004 school mock election. I was a sheep, and I am ashamed. (Luckily, I didn't turn 18 until 2005, so my ignorance never translated to an actual vote. That helps me sleep at night.) Not that being a Republican is a bad thing: truly, I want you to know that is not my opinion. What IS a bad thing is simply choosing your candidates based on the beliefs of those around you without doing any research or giving it any real thought: and that was me in high school.

Attending UMM opened my eyes. It is a small liberal arts school on the plains, and I was suddenly surrounded with people who were actually different than me. I grew up in white conservative Christian America, and I'd never had the chance to meet people of different backgrounds. It was amazing, and it was there that I found that my values did not (and do not) align at all with the Republican Party. And it dawned on me that my values also did not align with the lawmakers of my home state.

South Dakota and I were on the outs for some time. From their abortion laws to their views on same-sex marriage, South Dakota and I could not see eye to eye. And once again, as South Dakota voted overwhelmingly for Donald Trump in the 2016 election (62%, I believe), South Dakota voters and I disagree. Especially with Kristi Noem.

This is not to say that every South Dakotan feels that way: of course not. Many of my dearest South Dakotan friends and family are saddened and dismayed right along with me. This is also not to say that I will write off anyone with a differing opinion. If and when my South Dakota friends and family do not agree with me politically, I love them. I know that they love me. South Dakotans are good people.

The older I grow, the more I have a deep desire to love my state again. I want to be proud of my roots, and for the most part, I am. I am proud to have grown up in a hard-working and loving family that instilled lifelong values in me: work hard, never take anything or anyone for granted, and be kind. BE KIND. If I have learned nothing else in my life, at least I have learned that.

I am so proud of who I come from, but where... that's a work in progress.

The longer I live in the Sioux Falls area, the more optimistic I become. Sioux Falls is filling with passionate people working tirelessly to make this city a beautiful place to live and visit. In the five years that I've been back in the area, I can't tell you how much has changed. Downtown has become a vibrant neighborhood with small shops and restaurants, an uptown area and a riverwalk has developed, and something new and exciting is always coming. Sioux Falls is on its way.

There is a lot I love about my home state. I love the city of Brookings more than I thought possible. I love the state parks and the lakes (go ahead and laugh, Minnesotans, but South Dakota's lakes are something). I love the Black Hills, now more than ever. Contrary to the beliefs of my younger self, I find myself loving the fields and the tractors. I love downtown Sioux Falls. I love my job. Most of all, I love my friends and family. I love the people.

South Dakotans are - honest to God - some of the nicest people you will ever meet. They will always pull over to help you change a tire, and they won't hesitate to invite you in for coffee. They will be the first to smile at you, and they will share whatever they have. And the TRUST. James and I booked a night in a cabin in a South Dakota state park a few years ago, and the check-in process was this: they left the key in the door for us, and we showed up whenever. The check-out process was just the same: we left when we wanted (they asked before noon, but how were they to know?), and we returned the key to its place in the lock. Trust.

Yes, I love South Dakotans. I don't love South Dakota politics, but let's be honest, there's not much to love about politics anywhere right now. But South Dakotans are good people. And that's what I love.

why is everyone super into Pizza Ranch?

When I was growing up, we frequented two (and only two) pizza restaurants: Pizza Hut and Pizza King. Pizza Hut was an obvious choice because we all had free personal pan pizza Book-It coupons to spend; plus their lunchtime buffet was a favorite. Pizza King is an independent pizza place in Brookings, and once we aged out of Book-It, we started going to Pizza King and we’ve never looked back.

Brookings did have other pizza places, but those were our two main spots. Sure, we’d pick up Papa Murphy’s pizza to take and bake from time to time, but it was never a standard.

You know where we NEVER went?

Pizza Ranch.

“Never” is not quite true, but I bet you appreciated the dramatic emphasis. I can think of only two occasions when I went to Pizza Ranch in high school: once because my high school band was having a fundraiser there for our new uniforms, and another time after my advanced biology class had just come from our field trip to the cadaver lab at SDSU.

This is that same trip - before the Pizza Ranch, but after the cadavers.

(That last visit is most memorable because the Pizza Ranch chicken was the exact same color of mottled grey as the cadavers we had just seen.)

Likewise, I almost never went to Pizza Ranch during my college years. I remember going there once during summer for a staff bonding dinner (luckily, I had just had my wisdom teeth out and couldn’t eat anyway) and once more in Morris (my college town) for someone’s birthday. Every time, the pizza was cold, the cheese coagulated, the meat questionable and grey. Even the cheesy bread left a thick coat of grease on the roof of your mouth. Nothing good ever came from Pizza Ranch.

After those few early college visits, I thankfully forgot about Pizza Ranch.

Until I moved to Luverne in 2013.

Luverne is in the southwest corner of Minnesota, just a few miles from both the South Dakota and Iowa borders. James works in Ellsworth, MN, which is just a few feet from Iowa. He invited me to a staff dinner at the very end of summer, and I said yes… before I knew it was at Pizza Ranch.

“PIZZA RANCH?!” I said. “NO.”

But it was too late. To Pizza Ranch I went, and not a single thing had changed since the last time I ate it. The pizza was still terrible – but this time, as I was now in my late 20s, it gave me a stomachache. So much for the iron stomach of my early 20s. All I had for dinner that night was a glass of Coke.

I walked out of Pizza Ranch, hoping I could continue to avoid it (and making a note to not say yes to dinner invitations anymore until I knew where we were going).

But alas, I cannot avoid Pizza Ranch.

James would recount endless stories about Pizza Ranch being served for staff inservices, similar fundraising events to my high school band uniform experience, buying his students Pizza Ranch as a reward… because people in my little part of the world are super into Pizza Ranch. This is completely outside of my understanding.

When I commuted to Sioux Falls, I did not need to have anything to do with Pizza Ranch. I could just drive or walk past it in scorn, trying not to let that tell-tale greasy chicken smell permeate my lungs. However, when I accepted my position in Luverne, little did I know I was dooming myself to more Pizza Ranch exposure than I ever cared to have.

I travel to Slayton once a month to meet with other directors in my system, and the place they choose for lunch is always Pizza Ranch. Not one of the three or four independently owned cafes in town, but Pizza Ranch. I ate with them there once, holding my breath so as not to actually taste Pizza Ranch’s offerings. Every time since, I have left immediately following the meetings, picking up a sandwich at a coffee shop instead. I feel guilty for not socializing, but truly, I just cannot handle Pizza Ranch. (And my coat smelled ALL DAY.)

I attended an all-manager training in Marshall several months ago, with the promise of lunch being provided. Guess what lunch was? You got it: Pizza Ranch. Once again, I had a can of Coke for lunch.

The Pizza Ranch in Luverne is always packed. I hear people in passing at the grocery store talking about eating at Pizza Ranch. I hear my coworkers telling about family dinners at Pizza Ranch. I needed to do some research to see what exactly drew people to Pizza Ranch, because it CANNOT be the food.

As I soon learned, Pizza Ranch is based in Iowa – their headquarters are actually in Orange City, which is practically our neighbor. That explains the loyalty aspect. I learned they are a Christian-based company, their vision being “to glorify God by positively impacting the world.” I live in a very religious area, which also explains why the community might flock to it. Christian-based companies, though, are not my cup of tea. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I do not agree with any company forcing their religious beliefs on those around them. And honestly? Christian-based companies don’t tend to do the right thing, even with their so-called “values” (I’m looking at you, Hobby Lobby and Chick-fil-A). Wikipedia also tells me that conservative presidential candidates like to stop at Pizza Ranches during the Iowa caucuses because of said “values.” Pizza Ranch, I’m out.

You can continue to eat at Pizza Ranch; I am certainly not making a call for a Pizza Ranch boycott (outside of my own home, that is). I just honestly want to know: why does everyone love Pizza Ranch so much? Is it the “local business” aspect? Is it the God stuff? Or is it… somehow… the food? It’s an honest-to-God question; I truly am curious. Any insight from you, my dear Midwestern friends, would be appreciated.

In the meantime, I’m going to Pizza King.