The Rise (and Fall?) of Midwestern Might 

Between vice president Kamala Harris selecting Minnesota governor Tim Walz as her running mate and pop-princess Chappell Roan’s prodigious Lollapalooza performance, it seems the Midwest has abruptly captured the nation’s attention — and crowned its king and queen. 

The Midwest-centric strategy behind Harris’ selection becomes apparent after a glance at Walz’s resume. As a veteran and former public school teacher who grew up in rural Nebraska, the governor is a seemingly authentic representation of the moderate Midwest.

This rural relatability is what California-based Harris seems to have set her eye on, as the region is littered with significant swing states, including Michigan and Wisconsin. Harris’ populist pick combined with the upcoming Democratic National Convention in Chicago have thrust the region into a spontaneous spotlight. 

While Walz’s personal history and “plucky dad vibes” are a charming asset to Harris’ future-focused and unifying political message, it’s hard to imagine the intimate and authentic Midwestern “je ne sais quoi” persevering on a national scale. 

The Midwest’s persuasive powers come from its distinctly local, almost sneakily unobtrusive charm. Midwestern might comes not only from the region’s familial warmth and courteous culture, but also from said culture’s sincerity— it only works because it’s authentic, and it’s only authentic as long as it avoids the limelight. 

The political and pop-cultural image of the Midwest is rooted in ideological nostalgia, siphoning power from glossy, mirage-like images of tight-knit, diligent and dedicated families who spend their Sundays lending sugar to their neighbors. The region has assumed an oversized role in representing middle America despite it only being 12 states, emerging as the epicenter of traditional values and the persevering American dream. 

This makes any wide scale application of the midwestern lifestyle feel somewhat ornamental and inauthentic — even in the genuine case of Governor Walz. It turns the region’s powerful normalcy into a caricature, undermining the small-town sincerity the Harris campaign is trying to gleam onto.

Governor Walz has had immense success helping Minnesota’s middle class, lowering the price of insulin and enacting paid leave for workers. He started his political career as the first Democrat since 1890 elected to Minnesota’s notoriously conservative 1st Congressional District. Walz’s success emerged from face-to-face interaction with rural communities as he leaned into his farm-hand roots, teaching background and National Rifle Association endorsements.

Despite originally avoiding presenting as a cultural progressive when first elected in 2007, as governor Walz has steadily — and subversively — pioneered state-wide liberal policies by faithfully adhering to a framework which places reformist policy inside a traditional, grassroots, Midwestern framework. 

He has used his passion for pheasant hunting and experience as a public school teacher to advocate for gun control laws. He has justified protecting reproductive rights by establishing their importance to the traditional family structure. He has brought awareness to mental health and accessible healthcare by emphasizing his veteran status. 

Walz’s nuanced and informed identity has cultivated his political success and put him in the running for vice president. While seeing this kind of political candidate on a national scale ushers in a refreshing semblance of hope, there’s an underlying fear that Walz’s triumphant Midwestern authenticity will be contaminated by national demands — that populist progressivism will be eclipsed by polemic pressures and party lines. 

However valid these fears are, though, the alternative would be instigating further polarization in a country already divided. Although Midwestern locality is harder to sell on a national level, perhaps seeing a familiar face on screen will, in some areas, have the effect the Harris campaign is hoping for.

Maybe Walz will prove his work in Minnesota is a microcosm of shifting ideologies across the region. Maybe the Harris “feminionmenon” will burgeon a Midwest that mirrors the forward-looking, hopeful idiosyncrasy of the prospective Democratic ticket. 

Perhaps it will shed light on a diversified Midwest united by home — the place everyone comes back to regardless of if they were at the local Bass Pro Shop or a Pink Pony Club.