Days before the caucuses here in Iowa, the headline banner on Fox News would read things like, “Iowa, 1 percent of American population” and “Iowa, 94 percent white.” With their usual gift for subtlety, Fox News was apparently hoping to show the rest of the country just how irrelevant the opinions of Iowans are to the rest of the country.

I’m originally from a suburb outside of Chicago. Now, to most people outside of the Midwest, moving from Illinois to Iowa is like moving next door. Maybe this is true. The fact of the matter is that Iowa differs greatly from Illinois, Nebraska, Minnesota, South Dakota, Missouri or any other state.

Take Des Moines, for example. When I came out here I was used to living in the periphery of Chicago, which is just one unending mass of suburbs before the enormous urban sprawl.

I saw Des Moines for the first time last year and asked, “You call this a city? Where is the smog and the smell and the constant threat of carjacking?”

I mean, come on, where does Des Moines get off?

Doesn’t it realize that every major American city needs to be seedy and unpleasant, with the nice downtown areas segregated from the poor neighborhoods? It doesn’t even have one obtrusive skyscraper.

The nice thing about Des Moines is that it is so easy to get to. You can’t help it. If you’re on any of the major highways, you’re either going straight into it or you have to drive around it.

That’s quite different from the withering maze of highways that jokingly claim to direct you toward Chicago.

And then there is, of course, the daily life of Iowans. It’s easy for us from out of state to laugh off many Iowan customs as redneck, hick or just plain country. The chasm between myself and your average small-town Iowan became clear when a friend of mine asked me with incredulity, “You don’t have a burn barrel at your house?!”

No, sorry, we have municipal workers that take away our garbage. Although burning trash has its appeals, the weekly garbage pick-up is a nice amenity when living among other human beings.

Along with tractor pulls and 4-H, there were many Iowa customs I was not familiar with before I came. I’d had some experiences with farm life in Illinois, but it always seems different in Iowa.

If you’re from a small town in Illinois, you’re pitied for not being raised around the glory that is Chi-town. In Iowa, the reverse seems to be true. As clean as Des Moines seems to me, many Iowans pity people in Des Moines for living such a crowded, dirty and rushed existence. They take pride in small-town life unlike any other group of people I’ve seen.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t snicker when somebody with tapered jeans tucked into their boots with a green “4-H for life” shirt walks by, right?

I used to think so, but not so much anymore.

Not when I learned that the great aggie state of Iowa has the country’s highest literacy rate and simultaneously the lowest divorce rate. Not only has the Iowa school system been the gold standard in this country for the past 50 years, all that small-town pride seems well-deserved with such strong family values to show for it.

So maybe Iowa isn’t filled with your run-of-the-mill rednecks. It’s filled with your run-of-the-mill highly educated, family oriented, politically conscious, environmentally concerned and socially active rednecks.

As an import to the state of Iowa for a year and a half, I officially give Iowa my seal of approval.

My only reservation might be the environmental landscape. Iowa is flatter than the beats to a Hilary Duff song.

But still, it’s nothing compared to Illinois.

This is a little-known fact, but Illinois first gained prominence when God realized it would make a great bowling alley.

So when one of those lovely gusts of wind from the plains brings in the rich odor of pigs and cattle onto our campus, I’ll think of how I’ve grown to appreciate this state.

And when you see me with tears in my eyes from the overwhelming stench, just remember that those are nothing more than stinky tears of joy.