Curious Iowa: What does it mean to be Iowan?

Many have characterized Iowans over the years. Meredith Willson showed the world “Iowa Stubborn” in his 1957 musical “The Music Man.” W.P. Kinsella’s “Shoeless Joe,” cemented in cinematic history as “Field of Dreams,” branded Iowans as dreamers and doers. Grant Wood’s work showed the quiet persistence of folks living in a state where agriculture reigns king.

So, what does it mean to be Iowan today? In celebration of the second anniversary of The Gazette series Curious Iowa, we spoke with eight Iowans across the state to discover what being an Iowan means to them.

What are defining characteristics of Iowans?

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Chuck Offenburger has been writing about Iowa and Iowans for more than six decades. He spent 26 years at the Des Moines Register, where he wrote news stories and penned the “Iowa Boy” column. He also was a co-host of RAGBRAI — the famous cross-Iowa bicycle ride started by the Register — for 16 years.

Offenburger, who splits his time between Jefferson and Des Moines and continues to publish stories and commentary at offenburger.com, said Iowans are people who “pitch in and get involved.“

“It seems to me that a defining characteristic of being Iowan is what I’ll call ‘being a participant,’” Offenburger told The Gazette. “That’s the nature of a place with the low population that we have here, especially in our rural areas and small towns, but also in our urban areas where so many of us have our roots in smaller places.

“We all learn from our grandparents, parents and from personal experience, that for our various entities to operate, a majority of us have to show up, take part and get involved. That’s true for everything from our youth sports programs, to churches, schools, colleges, businesses, local governments and even some of our fire departments. What we learn as we do get involved, is that it’s not an obligation or duty — it’s actually fun and satisfying, most of the time. Iowa, when it’s done right, is a participatory kind of place. And that shapes who we are as people.”

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Terry Branstad was Iowa’s 39th and 42nd governor. He served from 1983 to 1998, and again from 2011 to 2017, in doing so becoming the longest-tenured governor in U.S. history.

Branstad was born, raised, earned two college degrees, and has spent the better part of five decades of public service in Iowa. While he was governor, he traveled to all 99 counties in the state each year.

And, as he is fond of reminding people, Branstad never lost an election in Iowa.

“Whenever there is a disaster, a tornado or something like that, it’s tremendous to see the way Iowans volunteer to come in and help, not just neighbors, but even people from far away,” Branstad said. “And that’s one of the things that I’m really proud of, is that Iowans are really wonderful, caring people. And when there is a problem, if there’s a neighbor that’s sick during harvest time, they’ll go in and help harvest their crops or plant their crops. Or they will be there to show that they care and help. And I think that’s a unique thing about Iowans.”

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Kevin Mason, award-winning author and assistant professor of History at the University of Northern Iowa, said the importance of the small things, like planting, mending, and helping others, is woven into the fabric of being an Iowan. Iowans are people who take pride in doing things the hard way, he said, even when easier routes exist.

“Iowans expect decency, modesty is mandatory, and small talk about the weather might be the deepest conversation you’ll have all week,” Mason said. “Community matters, as long as nobody asks too many questions or brings up anything uncomfortable. Too much talk of change makes folks shift in their chairs ... This is a place where quiet care speaks louder than words, and reputation reveals itself through what people do.”

He said that while the values of decency, modesty and quiet care still run deep, “they’re being tested by shifting demographics, evolving economies and broader national conversations that inevitably reach even the most rural corners.”

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Dana James, founder of Black Iowa News — an independent news organization that highlights Black perspectives and amplifies the voices of Black Iowans — said to discover insights into what it means to be Iowan, look to the actions of Iowans.

“Iowans boast about their state pride, strong Midwestern work ethic and values as if that’s the sum of their parts,” James said. “Watch what they do to see who they truly are.”

For example, James said, when George Floyd was murdered in 2020 by Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin, Iowans responded with protests demanding racial equity, police reform and change. A year later, Gov. Kim Reynolds signed the “back the blue” bill into law, adding qualified immunity for police officers, increasing punishments for rioting, and providing immunity to motorists who hit protesters.

“Iowans understood what defunding Planned Parenthood meant but ostensibly couldn’t understand the concept of defunding the police,” she said.

James said that Iowans capitalized on the tragedy of Floyd’s murder by police to enact laws making the state less safe for Black Iowans and others, and to thwart future protests.

“That’s what Iowans did. It’s 2025 now, and Iowans are in denial about who they’ve become,” James said. “Years from now, future generations won’t even know Iowa Nice was ever a thing.”

James said these actions, and others, like harming the land and air, electing lawmakers who legislate with hate, and embracing segregation and systemic racism, show Iowans’ true colors.

“Does that seem like a state where all its citizens have the ‘freedom to flourish’ as the state slogan suggests?” James asked.

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Connie Mutel, of Solon, has been an Iowan for 50 years. She has spent 40 years at the University of Iowa as a science writer and she has authored the Iowa conservation books “Sugar Creek Chronicle” and “Tending Iowa’s Land.”

Mutel said that her life has been focused on advocating for the health of nature in Iowa, which is the most intensely altered state in the United States. Mutel has come to know many Iowans who are defending Iowa’s natural lands.

“Our growing efforts to restore Iowa’s native woods and prairies have brought me tremendous joy,” she said.

She called these special places, and people, Iowa’s treasures. But, Mutel said Iowa is changing, along with the rest of the planet.

“Efforts to help others perceive and preserve the natural features that support human life have become more necessary; our failure to do so are reflected in our increasingly polluted rivers and eroding soils,” Mutel said. “We can do better.”

How do outsiders perceive what it means to be Iowan?

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The perception of Iowa by those who live in other states remains influenced by the “Iowa Nice” stereotype.

Dave Gould is an administrator at the University of Iowa’s Belin-Blank International Center for Gifted Education and Talent Development and a member of the honors faculty.

To the question of what it means to be an Iowan, Gould said, “There are lots of places I could have lived over the years — and many have mountains or oceans or other things. But there’s never been a place I’ve chosen to leave Iowa for. And the reason is really the people.” He told a story that he said captures that sentiment and epitomizes his feelings about one of his good friends — Peter Aguero, who hosts The Moth Radio Hour, from Queens, New York.

Aguero has visited Iowa City a dozen times for Gould and his events — typically coming a few days early or staying a few days late to walk around and meet new people. When Aguero was back in town at the end of April to visit Gould and participate in one of his final UI class projects, he asked Gould to meet him at 25 S Gilbert St. at 11 a.m. When Gould arrived, he found himself at Golden Tattoo — where Aguero was getting his forearm inked with a new tattoo — a Tiger Hawk with the words “Iowa Nice.”

“Peter’s arms and legs and body are the things that mark his life and what matters to him, and that this felt like a special place to him that he wanted to carry with him, that was one of the highlights of the spring for me,” Gould said.

Is what it means to be Iowan changing?

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Max Mowitz, executive director of One Iowa, described Iowans’ Midwestern sensibility as being fair-minded and common sense-focused.

Growing up in Iowa in 2007, when gender identity was added as a protected class in the Iowa Civil Rights Act, and 2009, when same-sex marriage became legal, Mowitz believed that there was a place for him in the state. He noted that xenophobia and racism were present during this time, despite being progressive in terms of LGBTQ rights.

“And the reason that it’s a little bit harder to talk about is because we’re in a moment where a lot of those people in power and (making decisions) in our state are not operating on those terms,” Mowitz, a transgender Iowan, said.

For Mowitz, community-making is a key part of what it means to be Iowan, and it’s taken on a new importance “as many of us are starting to feel really targeted and marginalized by the folks that make decisions in the state.”

“I still love my state,” he said. “I believe that the average Iowan is very kind and fair minded and hardworking, but I am starting to feel like Iowa doesn’t really love me back, which is not necessarily a value I was raised with.”

On July 1, gender identity will be removed from the Iowa Civil Rights Act. In previous years, transgender girls have been barred from playing girls sports in the state, gender-affirming care for minors has been banned, and restrictions have been enacted regarding transgender students’ use of school bathrooms and locker rooms.

“I would actually like for us to take a look at this current moment and how far afield we’ve gone from the typical Iowa values and take that as an opportunity to ask ourselves, what are the other ways that our state isn’t inclusive and safe for everyone and how can we right the ship, not only on LGBTQ issues, but also on welcoming immigrants and refugees, fighting for racial equality and racial equity?” Mowitz said.

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Mugisha Gloire immigrated to Cedar Rapids from the Democratic Republic of the Congo in 2000 at age 9. Two local women, Jannette and Sue, took him under their wing, bringing him to swimming lessons, Little League games and Fourth of July fireworks.

“That gave me a sense of belonging, a sense of there are people here that care about me,” Gloire said.

Today, Gloire is a nurse. He is the founder and executive director of United We March Forward, a Cedar Rapids nonprofit improving access to food and housing and sponsoring refugee families. Gloire is guided by the mission of giving back to the community that raised him. The nonprofit has served more than 500 refugee families to date, but recent changes by the Trump administration have affected the nonprofit’s partnership opportunities for refugee sponsorship.

He said that what it means to be Iowan is slowly changing, and not always for the better.

“I see it in the quiet hesitation of good people who used to speak out. I see it in friends considering leaving the state, I see it in elderly, young and disabled neighbors turning to food access programs. I see it in nonprofit leaders scaling back services or knocking on new doors for help. I see churches unsure of what to say or how to act in the face of growing need and uncertainty.”

“While the cost of living and emotional weight of these times are real, the heart of being Iowan doesn’t have to disappear. It can adapt and I believe that it must adapt,” Gloire said. “We can still choose to lean into compassion, belonging and community. We can still choose to love harder, even when it’s uncomfortable or inconvenient. I believe we need to fight for the kind of Iowa that welcomed me. A place where anyone, regardless of their story, can be lifted up and empowered to give back. This is the Iowa that I know. It’s the Iowa that I still believe in because Iowa is where I call home.”

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The Gazette’s Sara Konrad Baranowski, Vanessa Miller and Erin Murphy contributed to this report.

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Comments: bailey.cichon@thegazette.com