An Iowan's Perspective on Iowan History
Learning more about our past to shape a better future for Iowa
This piece was originally written for CultureALL’s blog.
The ultimate goal of CultureALL is to elevate individuals' behaviors and attitudes to a higher level of acceptance and collaboration for the benefit of our region. We do this through authentic, multicultural experiences that lead to a greater appreciation of diversity. We also work with businesses and corporations on their DEI planning to promote inclusivity within the workplace. If you are in need of cultural education or support in your DEI journey, please contact us a Explore@CultureALL.org.
I created The Midwest Creative out of a frustration that the place I call home seems to constantly be put into a box.
I get it. I see what news comes out of this place: the politics, the inhumanity, the faulty leadership and consistent ignoring of what most Iowans actually want. We get a bad rap because of some bad behavior, and it’s earned.
What gets lost in this stagnant idea of Iowa and the Midwest is how much joy, art, creativity, community, and authentic kindness actually lives here. That underneath your scope of vision you’ll find an ecosystem of boundless possibilities. You might just have to look a little further.
But on this journey to share with you what my Iowa looks like, my own perspective of my state, which had at times been narrow and without nuance, has shifted to better understand our collective history and our collective future.
Growing up in rural Iowa, I would walk through the halls of my school and see people I had gone to kindergarten with, people who looked just like me, participated in the same summer activities as me, rode their bikes down the same streets as me. Nearly all of us were of some denomination of Christianity, we mostly grew up in middle class families, and differences were rarely encouraged or celebrated.
“Iowa Nice” was the reigning ethos in my small Iowa town. We’d give you the two-finger wave as we drove past, or we’d help you carry your groceries to your car. But that was often as far as the gestures went, especially when welcoming new people to our community who were different from the rest of us. If you tried to introduce new cultural traditions or asked for more consideration for those outside of the status quo, the answer was almost always no.
This upbringing cemented in my head this idea of Iowa being unwelcoming. I focused on our stark lack of diversity instead of the diverse communities that already lived here. I believed most people held politics that were abhorrent to me, that they’d approach change with a hateful heart, and that Iowans were never going to develop more inclusive behaviors. I misunderstood Iowa’s capacity to grow into the welcoming home we all desire.
It wasn’t until I began working at CultureALL in January 2023 that I learned that I was not looking at the full picture of Iowa. I had never been introduced to key moments in our history where we welcomed newcomers with open arms and believed Iowa was a place for everyone.
The Legacy of Governor Robert D. Ray
In the spring of 2023, CultureALL’s Executive Director, Sherry Gupta, connected me with Stephanie Moris. Stephanie is Director of the Refugee Alliance of Central Iowa (RACI), which supports refugees by providing access to services, resources, and programs that will assure they are able to resettle and establish themselves in central Iowa.
Stephanie was in the midst of planning Des Moines’ World Refugee Day event, which celebrates and honors the experiences of refugees who have settled in Iowa. I served on the PR committee through CultureALL, so I spoke with Stephanie to write a story about the event.
Throughout our conversation, I began to realize that Iowa has long been home to people from all around the world. These new Iowans just lived where I didn’t. My lack of knowledge was simply a visibility problem.
Stephanie explained to me how refugees had survived wars and natural disasters, fleeing their homes, leaving behind everything familiar to wait for years in crowded and dangerous refugee camps. She talked about the anti-immigration and anti-refugee legislation enacted in the last ten years that made these experiences even more difficult.
That’s when Stephanie mentioned a name I had never heard before: Governor Robert D. Ray.
Governor Ray served as Iowa’s governor from 1969 to 1983. A Des Moines native, the Republican governor left behind a legacy of humanitarianism and support for civil rights. He enacted the first legislation in the United States that protected Native American burial grounds and established the Iowa Commission on the Status of Women. Richard Gilbert, husband of Iowa Writers Collaborative founder Julie Gammack, worked as Gov. Ray’s press secretary and has shared some wonderful stories about his former boss.
His work to welcome refugees to Iowa may be his most impactful contribution to our state.
Stephanie told me the story of how Gov. Ray developed Iowa into a leader in refugee resettlement after the Vietnam War. In the early 1970s, Governor Ray urged the U.S. State Department to increase the limits on how many refugees a state could resettle. His work allowed nearly 1,400 Tai Dam—a distinct ethnic group originating from Vietnam—to settle as a group in Iowa.
In 1979, he observed a documentary that showed refugees from Vietnam fleeing in a boat that fell apart in the water. He immediately knew Iowans had a moral obligation to help. He went to the federal government and said these refugees could resettle in Iowa.
Stephanie explained Governor Ray’s point of view:
“He said over and over that if we have the ability to help the most vulnerable in the world, then that’s what we were going to do.”
Iowans Don’t Know What They Don’t Know
As Stephanie shared this Iowa history with me, I reflected on the assumptions and biases I’d long held about the place I grew up.
I held on to the belief that Iowans were cold to newcomers when in reality, we had a proud history as a leader in humanitarian efforts, ensuring refugees have what they need to remake a safe home here.
This misguided belief was not without cause. My entire life, I’d heard calls from Iowa leaders to close down our borders and send Iowa troops to Texas to stop migration. I’d heard about banning travel from Muslim-populated nations and witnessed politicians legitimize white supremacist ideals.
But now, knowing that a beloved Republican governor turned my home state into a world-class leader, I had a much clearer understanding of our history and the potential in our future.
I was curious if other Iowans had more or less knowledge about Robert Ray and his legacy in Iowa. I conducted an informal research process (which means I texted the various group chats I’m in with different friends and family members) and asked 63 people if they had ever heard of Robert Ray or why he was important in Iowa history.
Overall, I received a pretty resounding “No.”
My brother-in-law, Kevin, learned who he was when he lived in Des Moines’ East Village and came upon the half-mile street named Robert D. Ray Drive. My mom recognized his name after she Googled him. My best friend’s mom, Jackie, knew he was a former Iowa governor but didn’t know why he was important. My dad knew him first by his support of Iowa newspapers before mentioning his refugee work. (My family has been involved with the Monticello newspaper since my grandpa began working there in 1956, and my dad was president of the Iowa Newspaper Foundation). A friend of mine had learned about Governor Ray’s legacy through his dad.
I may have been uninformed, but I am not naive. I know that despite Gov. Ray’s humanitarian work, Iowa has always contended with xenophobic, racist, and oppressive attitudes. Jackie told me that as a child growing up in the Midwest at the end of the Vietnam War, she witnessed “awful and racist behavior” towards refugees at her school. I know that we still contend with these problems today.
But as a young professional in my 20s who knows Iowans are capable of doing a lot of good, I feel cheated. I wasn’t taught about strong leaders like Gov. Ray, and because of that, I lacked a nuanced understanding of our collective strength to be better neighbors than we were yesterday.
Gov. Ray’s decisive, proactive, and compassionate leadership could serve as inspiration for every Iowan. We might be more united across our state, able to envision possibilities for more inclusive policies around immigration, refugee resettlement, and other issues facing minoritized communities. We might collectively learn what it takes to provide a supportive, comfortable environment for newcomers to thrive.
And every young Iowan could know that the way we did things yesterday does not have to be the way we do things tomorrow.
The more creative people I meet, the more cultures I encounter, the more kind, interesting, brilliant people I interact with, the more I believe in Iowans capabilities to be a place where all are welcome. A place where we create for the joy of creating, offer real, tangible support to one another, and we live with the intention of building a style of living that’s kind to everyone.
That’s the Iowa I want to live in, and it’s the Iowa I believe we are capable of becoming.
The Midwest Creative is a proud member of the Iowa Writers Collaborative. Please consider a subscription to my colleagues’ work to support storytelling across the state of Iowa. All of these authors provide content for free, with paid subscription options. Pick one or more, and help sustain this movement.
What a beautiful tribute. When I moved to Iowa I became friends with a girl who was a refugee from Vietnam. Her name was Lan Pham. She lived several blocks away from me and was in foster care with an elderly church going couple. LAN assimilated quickly to American life.
LAN soon chose a new name for herself. Tara Beyer. She had a party one afternoon at her home when we were in the Ninth grade.
At the end of the year she moved to another school district, and we kept in touch by phone. Her brother came from Vietnam to the Detroit area and she left Iowa to live with him and his family. Her brother committed suicide. Tara moved to Arizona and we lost track of one another. I moved to , then Florida.
Tara never spoke about her life in Vietnam. I never knew if she didn’t remember, or didn’t want to talk about it.
I moved back to Iowa and have wondered where she is now.
I was so glad to have had the opportunity to have my refugee friend. She so embraced living in the United States.
There were so many Vietnamese refugees resettled in Iowa during the late 1970s. I only know some of the story of my friend Lan.
I like your optimism, and I agree!