Those of us from the North Star state will often joke about a thing we call “Minnesota nice.” You walk into a store, ask for something, a very nice person gets it for you, they smile, take your money, put it in a bag and send you on your way. It all seems so obsequious, so fake, so phony, that you really have no idea what the person in the store is really thinking–or do you? Is Minnesota nice, as many people not from Minnesota would have you think, just a bunch of passive aggressive baloney? I, for one, think not. Somebody drops an armload of books, and six people stop to help them pick up the mess. You spill your change at the grocery store and the same thing happens. You get a flat tire, and a highway patrol stops with lights flashing to make sure you not only don’t get run over while changing your flat, s/he may even lend a hand. A young lady had forgotten her wallet the other day and couldn’t pay for her coffee, so I did. Perhaps none of this is out of the ordinary and just reflects a kind side of human nature that just wants to help out, and you might encounter this anywhere in the world. Yet, I would venture to say that this helpful side to human nature is taken up a notch when you are in Minnesota where people are polite, helpful, and kind to a different degree than you might it in other places. When lost and disoriented in a strange grocery store, I’ve had managers take me straight to the thing I’m looking for, and they do it with smile on their faces and song in their hearts. The ethos of living in a place like Minnesota, where hardship in winter is real, where the number of hearty souls never really goes up, is a little different. There is a sense of community in Minnesota that I have not really experienced elsewhere. I think that “Minnesota nice” stems from a difficult common experience that leads to a great sense of community and social identity. I saw this in church, at school, out in public, everywhere. You may think I’m idealizing this all out of proportion because I live in exile in Texas, but I’m not comparing Texas, which has its own ethos, to Minnesota. Once you’ve experience life at minus 30 degrees below zero, you have a different perspective about what makes your ornery and cranky, you have different perspective on hardship, suffering and difficulties. If you can help someone out and do it with a smile on your face, why not? Certainly, all places have cranky, egotistical people, and Minnesota is no exception, but if you visit Minnesota, and you encounter kind, smiling people, who are willing to help you solve a problem or get out of jam, think about it. Why are they helping? Minnesota nice is not phony, although you might suspect it is. Why should someone do anything for no other reason than to help you? Perhaps our own cynicism regarding philanthropy says more about the sad state of our social relations than it does about the person offering to help. Self-interest should not be the only thing that drives our interactions with others. Last night at the grocery store the guy in front of me needed three cents so he wouldn’t have to carry off a ton of change, so I gave it to him. He was so startled and surprised, he didn’t know what to say. The clerk was flabbergasted. I was just trying to be nice.