In my kitchen cabinet is a gold-lettered treasure from Mullen, Nebraska. It’s a coffee mug. I got it at Big Red’s Café & Lounge, “A Hell of a Place to Eat” and other than Mom’s house, the only place to eat in the “The Biggest Little Town in Hooker County,” pop. 469.

It is also the only town, not counting the ghost town of Dunwell. Mullen is, inevitably, the county seat. It began life when the railroad came through the unique Sand Hill country of western Nebraska in the 1880s. By the look of other ads on the mug, the main businesses are those everybody in a remote small town would be doing business with anyway: the Mullen Co-op (gas and diesel equipment); Don and Teresa Hampton’s drilling business; Macke’s Grocery; the Abbott Bank.

In the news last week was another Nebraska county seat across the state, West Point, in Cuming County. At 3,500 or so residents, the hometown of Democratic vice-presidential candidate Tim Walz is almost in Iowa cornfield country and home to seven times as many residents as Mullen.

Nebraska towns, east or west, are so not New England towns — mid-continent, often surrounded by miles of undeveloped land, doggedly independent except for neighbors helping neighbors, resolutely dedicated to operations that would not fit into the space we have here: hog raising, cattle ranching, soybean farming. Never the scent of salt air. No hurricanes but a scary lot of tornadoes.

But Nebraska is a land of splendid sunsets and amazing bird migrations and a rugged, irresistible appreciation for the freedom and the responsibilities of living in wide open spaces. You are expected to behave yourself even when no one is watching.

Minnesota, where Tim Walz serves as governor and which he represented in Congress for six terms, covers both high and low land and so much water that its beauties are even more diverse than Nebraska’s. Readers and listeners have gotten to know a lot about Minnesotans from Minnesota Public Radio’s “Prairie Home Companion,’” the popular novels of William Kent Krueger and Louise Erdrich, and the mystery-thrillers of John Sandford and P.J. Tracy.

Minnesota is a border state. Canada lies across the way, with both countries sharing the Border Waters, a roadless wilderness area that attracts the hardiest hikers and canoeists. The shores of Lake Superior dominate miles of Minnesota’s eastern flank. Alongside is the vast Iron Range, which powered America’s growth for generations and now, thanks to intelligent conservation and resourceful mine engineering of smaller ore deposits, is being reshaped rather than simply left scarred.

The Twin Cities of Minneapolis and Saint Paul have faced dark times in recent years, with allegations of police brutality and racism culminating in the 2020 murder of George Floyd. Minneapolis has had to face up to being the primary symbol of racial violence in the 21st century.

Neither Minnesota nor Nebraska was a state until long after the American Revolution; neither was one of the 13 original colonies. Both have pioneer histories quite different from those of New England, with the sheer size of the land making all the difference.

One part of history we do have in common, and it remains an injustice. The early encounters of native tribes with the arriving Europeans usually ended in displacement, poverty and cultural obliteration for the original inhabitants. Public policy outright enforced those hardships. The determined voices of tribal people, helped by the brutal honesty of historians, journalists and novelists, have ended any excuse of ignorance.

Forthrightness and self-determination are a hallmark of the culture in both states. And in spite of all the imperfections humans take with them wherever they go, there is really such a thing as Midwestern Nice. People are no less opinionated than we coastal types, but they slow it down and find a way to say whatever it is less unkindly. They make it easier to swallow.

We New Englanders tend to pride ourselves on Yankee independence and stoicism, and like Midwesterners, believe we are smart enough and honest enough to see what’s going on. Those shared virtues would serve us well during this election year.

Lisa McGinley is a member of The Day Editorial Board.