Minnesota Nice is a definite piece of Gustavus culture. During my three years here, I have come to conclude that Minnesota Nice is perhaps a complete representation of Gustavian culture; the good and the bad aspects of Minnesota Nice define the Gustavian identity. But what exactly is “Minnesota Nice?” It is a term that can be used positively or derisively, alternately implying genuine politeness or mere surface-deep politeness, one that barely conceals phoniness. Like all words, the meaning of Minnesota Nice is not definite, but a common definition can be agreed upon.

Minnesota Nice seems to rest on an attitude of non-confrontation and politeness, avoidant of disruption or distinctiveness. Since the Gustavus community is completely reflective of its Minnesota-oriented student body, it should come as no surprise that Minnesota Nice plays a large part in campus life, from student groups to classroom settings. Minnesota Nice permeates all levels of the campus, from our relatively homogenous student body, and to our large contingent of socially conscious “I-can-change-the-world” activists, to our large worship groups, to our friendly “frost-your-own” events. Not to mention Gustie Greeters, the epitome of “people who pretend to like absolutely everyone.” An examination of Minnesota Nice can offer insights into the true nature of Gustavus.

Minnesota Nice maybe stems from a Scandinavian solemnity— probably rooted in the fact that the upper reaches of Sweden (or the Eckman Mall in January) are too cold to even conceive of opening one’s mouth to breathe, (let alone speak). We are unable to divert our gazes from anywhere but locked firmly ahead, staring at the ground, silently hoping to die because at that moment our lives are completely intolerable. Small towns in Minnesota definitely carry on this tradition, and even those in big cities carry on in this demeanor.

My mother, growing up on the East Side of St. Paul, noted that there was a sort of “East Side” sense of humor; deadpan sarcasm with a subtle wit. That’s “big city” Minnesota Nice— even in a hectic city, you’re quick, but still reserved and quiet.

The fact that Minnesota Nice is its own distinct term seems to say that it is a concept distinct from actual nicety. However, I think Minnesota Nice can truly be nice. Why? The image of church basement potlucks full of politeness, community and bars is just too warm and fuzzy for me to dislike. What’s nicer and more wholesome than a fun exchange of hot dish in the church basement?

In fact, a 2004 New York Times article about flu shot shortages said that Minnesota was not having any issue because “even people considered most vulnerable [were] forgoing the shots so there will be enough left for others.”

Wow. Maybe this will happen again this fall? For the H1N1 fearful the answer is hopefully. But should we really bank on Minnesota Nice?
Because there can be a dark side to Minnesota Nice. Mrs. Johansen on the way home from the church potluck could conceivably make remarks about how horrible Mrs. Petersen’s tator tot hot dish was. Indeed, she probably does, or at least thinks them to herself. Simultaneously her husband could make— or think— similar expressions about how Mr. Petersen gained a spare tire since the last potluck. It is this distinction between thinking and speaking that I think is another aspect of Minnesota Nice.

Let’s be honest: I do not like everybody. I don’t think I hate anyone in particular, but I definitely do not like everyone. Is it nice to conceal or lie about your feelings toward other people? Or is it nicer to be honest when a problem arises? It’s probably Minnesota Nicer to do the former, but real-life nicer to do the latter, to avoid an explosion that’s even worse than an awkward conversation. I have seen many incidents on campus where people say something behind somebody’s back that they definitely would not say to their face.

A time and place I think Minnesota Nice is completely detrimental to Gustavus is in the classroom. While at times the intense Minnesota Nice present on campus can be charming, with our group celebrations and traditions, in the classroom it stifles expression and discussion, and dare I say it, learning. I see Minnesota Nice in the meek and prolonged pause that occurs after a professor poses a question to the class. Ostensibly the class could be “formulating their thoughts,” as many professors explain it away, but the collective peering at the floor on the part of the class could suggest otherwise. I think Minnesota Nice weeds out having opinions or expressing oneself. Tell me— if we are a shy people, we can assume that we are afraid of awkwardness. Tell me, what’s more awkward, asking a question that may or may not turn out to be “stupid” (is this why people don’t want to talk in class?) or staring at the floor silently, among others staring at the floor? For me, I find the floor staring remarkably awkward and far worse than discussion, even trivial or poor discussion.

I was struck by the men’s bathroom stall in the basement of the library. Someone scrawled, amongst puerile drug and alcohol references, proclamations of heterosexuality, accusations of homosexuality and incendiary pro/anti-frat graffiti, that it was the “true democracy wall.” Only in complete anonymity do people feel comfortable expressing themselves. That is the epitome of Minnesota Nice.

The point of a liberal arts environment is a lively exchange of ideas and learning from peers. If we were only to read books, there would be no point in meeting for class. My professor commented in one class session that “the ideas you wrote down” on a submitted prompt were “very impressive.” Then, she inquired, “Why did nobody want to share?” The answer is the Minnesota-Nice-imbued shyness. It instills a fear to disagree or express oneself. That is why I think the reaction to Jack Ohle’s presidency is so heartening. Not even that I take any side or the other, it is merely fantastic to see people have an opinion on something and speak and act on it in a campus situation. Take that energy to the classroom, and we might all learn something, because I’m sure you have fantastic ideas. Minnesota Nice doesn’t preclude good ideas.