Being "rural" doesn't make us hicks

For the most part, I consider myself just as aware of my surroundings as someone who lives in the twin cites. This was something that a few of my high-school friends began to disagree with after one year of college.

Last summer, four of my friends and I ventured up to Canada for what would be a memorable trip. Even though most of the trip consisted of dancing and partying, there was an instance in which my friends (who currently attend school in the twin cities) and myself did not see eye to eye.

Downtown Winnipeg can be a scary place for anyone. I was warned by my older sister to be cautious when walking at night. She advised me to stay away from people I didn't know and remain within my group of friends. When sharing this advice with my friends, they laughed and shook their heads-as if there was nothing to worry about.

They each had their "big city" stories involving police, gunshots, tasers and convicts. I couldn't help but feel like they pitied me for going to school at UND, and not experiencing life outside of the upper Midwest.

After pondering the conversation I came to two conclusions: First of all, it would be unwise for anyone visiting a city, even Grand Forks, to trust or interact with shady people on street corners, and secondly, if the life my friends lead in the city does involve gunshots and tasers, I should consider myself lucky to live and study in a community in which I feel at least a little safe.

I honestly don't believe that being used to the sound of gunshots and sirens makes people more refined than anyone I have grown up with in rural Minnesota and North Dakota.

My (newly-developed) city-girl friends failed to recognize that I, and many of the friends that I have met here, have been outside of this area many times before. This may come as a shocker to many big-city students here at UND. I have met a few people that treat me (a Thief River Falls, Min. native) as if I am part of some bizarre sub-species that has not quite evolved to their advanced level.

One example of this would be from a conversation I had with a certain west-coaster about New York City.

The said west-coast city slicker had visited New York recently and took it upon himself to school me about the mass population and architecture-as if my "hick" eyes had never seen anything like it before. That particular person did not give me the opportunity to say that I have visited that city and disagreed with most of his claims about the place.

People view this environment in different ways. Despite the barren tundra the upper Midwest can sometimes resemble, I think the people and places harbor a certain something that can't be duplicated in any other part of the world. Because I have lived in this area for sixteen years of my life, I sometimes feel bad for the Southern Californians and the like for attending this University without prior experience of the long winters.

My pity for the aforementioned people abruptly ends when I hear smug comments alluding to the people of this climate as "hicks."

Sometimes when I see a fifty-year-old woman in a tube top, driving a twenty-year-old ford with the windows down, pigs in tote, and the radio blaring "you could be a redneck" jokes, I think-yes, this could be a hick. For the record, I would like to say that there is a difference in the image mentioned above and the kind of people I encounter everyday.

A lot of students here are from small towns and may have embarked in a little cow tipping, but does this make them below the acceptable definition of what would be considered class? Behaviors in this part of the world may be foreign to people raised in cities, but to look down upon anyone in a superior manner is more inhumane than any "hick" behavior could ever be.