"Where is Oklahoma Anyway?"

Let me begin my blog with an apology...
I am sorry that I am not what you expected.

As a freshman, I have engaged in copious amounts of small talk. Each conversation begins with the general "what is your name?" and "how are you adjusting to college?" Once the question "where are you from?" is asked, people are always caught off guard by my response. They often look at me in awe as though I had completely obliterated their preconceived image of an Oklahoman. In all honesty, I am not really sure what they expected. I almost feel guilty for being an apparently poor representative of my state; I do not live in a tipi, have a heavy accent, ride a horse to school, or live on a farm. It seems that people fail to recognize that at the root of our beings, we are all essentially the same.

Since I have arrived in State College, nearly every day I am met with a new person who contributes to my collection of strange inquiries. All eighteen years of my existence have been in Oklahoma, so the realization that southern living is not common knowledge is somewhat baffling to me. Because the questions never fail to add humor and astonishment to my life, I have retained a mental list of some of my favorite questions that I have been asked so far.

"So... if you're from Oklahoma, what are you doing here?"
The answer to this question is simple: exactly what you're doing. I come from a line of Penn Staters. My parents both came here, as well as my father's siblings and his father. I had not intended to carry on the university legacy until I received my acceptance into the Schreyer's Honors College. I recognized that my education with SHC would offer me boundless opportunities, far surpassing anything I could find back home.

"WOW! What's Oklahoma like?"
One word: flat.

"Is it super hot there all the time?"
We are lucky enough to experience all four seasons, but I am in no way prepared for when this becomes a not-so-happy valley and I fear of contracting hypothermia while walking to class. At home we rarely have show, so when those sculpted white flakes fall from the sky, the town ceases to function. The grocery store is sold out of bread, milk, and eggs. To the outsider it would probably look like we were bracing for an apocalypse or nuclear warfare.

"Do you see a lot of tumbleweeds?"
Actually, we do. This just might be the only stereotype that I can confirm. It is a completely normal sighting to see a tumbleweed casually rolling across the street doing its own thing, whatever that may be.

"How many acres do you live on?"
This question I really wasn't prepared for. I suppose that between the moment I told a new friend that I was from Oklahoma he mentally jumped to the assumption that I lived on a farm and therefore must own a lot of land. Although many people do live on vast plots, I am in the middle of a residential area right off of Oklahoma State University's campus, so even if my family felt called to abandon our lives and pursue farming, it is geographically impossible in our current location. Again, sorry to disappoint with my normalcy.

"Where is Oklahoma anyway??"
This is certainly the question that I am asked far more frequently than any other, and each time it never fails to shock me. The best way that I can answer this is by countering with the question "do you know where Texas is?" while attempting to stifle my disappointment in Penn State's lack of geographical understanding of the United States. If they respond with a yes, I can easily inform them that my obscure, pan-shaped state, sits right above it; however, if they respond no (believe it or not, it's happened), then I wish them the best in life and just walk away.