I didn’t think I would ever live in Kentucky.  But once I was there, I didn’t think I’d ever leave.

When most folks hear about Kentucky, they don’t have the most flattering images in their minds.  A common stereotype is of the slack-jawed yokel wearing overalls doing some sort of drunken jig while taking a swill from a jug that is cryptically labelled XXX.  But this pre-conception is not only highly offensive but is completely inaccurate.  Kentucky is home to a tremendously diverse set of people, and only a few of whom very vaguely resemble the pernicious stereotypes that we see on television.

Yes, it is true: in my three years in Kentucky, I did see a lot of poverty, a ton of obesity, and a soul-crushingly high rate of drug addiction (including alcoholism and tobacco abuse).  But what I observed most keenly was the warmth of the average Kentuckian.  Maybe I was naive, or looking to confirm my own optimistic biases, but I had a sensation that when people asked you, “how are you?” it was more than just a formality.  There didn’t seem to be any agenda on their ends: only an altruistic consideration.  Without delving into the other end of unfair stereotypes (i.e. undeservingly positive ones), I found their mindset to be very life-affirming – and I’ve worked hard to adopt it.

I didn’t expect to be so touched by this sincerity.  But I was.  And even though Iowans have their own particular style of homespun authenticity, I truly miss the southern hospitality and altruism that fundamentally define the identity of the Commonwealth of Kentucky.

Having only lived there for three years, I wholeheartedly admit that I am not an authentic “born and breaded” Kentuckian.  But I would like to believe that regardless of whichever state I may physically be in, I will always continue to carry that spirit of Kentucky with me.