When I tell people where I’m from, everyone is surprised at first, and then they never stop giving me crap for it.

Maybe I hide my accent, and maybe I’m good at vocalizing my progressive beliefs, but underneath all that, I am a Texan and I’ve learned that being a Texan at a top tier Chicago-area school comes with some difficulties.

In my freshman dorm, I had friends who loved to poke fun at my (very slight) accent. There were two of us Texans in my friend group, and when we said “y’all,” everyone else loved to respond with “w’all,” their makeshift contraction for we all.

This was the first ridicule I heard, but definitely not the last. Last year, the Texas State Board of Education voted to make huge changes in its history curriculum to convey more conservative views, such as illuminating the influence Christianity had on the formation of the country and presenting Republican policies more positively. How did I find out about this? A link posted on my Facebook wall from one of my NU friends along with her comment, “Your state is officially coocoo.”

Since I’m the Texan, my friends here sometimes see me as the campus representative of what they (and usually I) consider to be utter ludicrousness, and then they start to see me through this lens. This summer while I was studying abroad, we would often meet people who wanted to know about certain American traditions and ideals. Sometimes when I tried to answer, one of my friends would interrupt saying, “She’s from Texas,” as if that meant that I wouldn’t convey America well, despite my two years at Northwestern and my consistently democratic voting pattern.

The thing I struggle with the most is finding a balance between proving that I’m not a stereotypical Texan and pridefully defending my home state. Apart from the politics, I’ve always found it easy to love my state. The word Texas comes from a word meaning “friends,” and everyone I know always exhibits that. I get all caught up in the patriotic spirit, whether it’s for our state, our country, our or baseball and football teams. But my love for Texas usually stops when I take a look at the government.

Last year, I was always complaining about my state. I was embarrassed when my congressman who uncivilly yelled, “It’s a baby killer,” during Congress’s healthcare debate. I threw a fit when the current governor, Rick Perry, was elected Republican gubernatorial candidate because voters thought that his opponent, Kay Bailey Hutchinson, was too closely tied to Washington because of her years as a senator.

But in the past few weeks, I’ve found several reasons to stand up for my state on a political level as well. Joel Burns, a gay Fort Worth City Councilman, gave a speech during the Council’s meeting urging gay teenagers to stay away from suicide. The speech can now be found on Youtube as part of the “It Gets Better” campaign. I was first impressed that a gay man was serving on the city council of a Texas city, and doubly so because of this speech.

The second thing I’m excited about is the events that have unfolded in the gubernatorial race. All of the major newspapers have endorsed Bill White, the democratic candidate. At least newspaper editors are smart enough to realize that an idiotic Republican governor is worse than a Democrat, despite Texas’s commitment to Republicanism.

So even though I’ve spent the last two years shaking my head in disbelief at Texas politics so my Northwestern friends won’t pigeonhole me into the Conservative Christian box, right now, at least, my Texas pride is extending beyond football spirit and big bright stars to the acts of political and media leaders.

Let’s see if the rest of Texas can follow suit on Election Day tomorrow, so I can stop fighting against my state and start extolling its greatness.

Meredith Wise is a Weinberg junior. She can be reached at [email protected]