By Randi Dockter

I live in fly-over country. It is always great to have a vacation, but as I fly back into my country a smile spreads across my face. I see blocks of black land recently plowed. Light brown land that is fallow. All the colors in between with different crops that I could name if I were close enough. I see the tree rows and wonder how long ago they were planted to get so tall. I feel home. This land is a great expansive hassle for many travelers, but this country is part of my identity. 

I talked to many people in St. Louis. Everyone asked where I was from and said the name of my University incorrectly. I told them North Dakota. “Oh, cold up there?” the response from everyone. Yes, it is cold up here. Some facts they do not know: North Dakota is having an economic boom, there are three oil reserves here and today's technology can only get at 3% of our oil, and there are wind farms going up everywhere to help produce energy. So yep, its cold. There is still snow on the ground, and I love our small cities, so just visit North Dakota. This country is part of my identity. 

While in St. Louis, I had the pleasure of getting honked at, yelled at, and having rudeness bestowed on me like air. People were not so nice and loud. Everyone wanted money for this cause or that, and if they could not obtain money they wanted my cigarettes. In North Dakota, we honk to say hi to people not to critique their driving ability. We say hello, have a nice day, good morning, good afternoon, how are you? Just to be nice, not to drive people away, which happened to me more then once. That is my country, and it is my identity.