From Iowa Nice to Iowa Kind

Ever since my family moved back to Iowa in 2024, I've had this idea I couldn't let go of.

Coming home felt like slipping back into something warm and familiar. My neighbors introduced themselves the week we moved in. My husband came home from his first day at work with wide eyes and said, "People are so nice here." And yes — they are. We are. There's something genuinely beautiful about the warmth of this place: the small talk, the wave across the driveway, the tater tot casserole that shows up when someone in the neighborhood is having a hard week.

But I also noticed the other side of it. Sometimes that small-talking, eggshell-walking, people-pleasing Iowa Niceness has unintended consequences that don’t serve us well. Conflict avoidance keeps us small and quiet, agreeableness erodes into resentment, and sticking to the surface leaves us feeling lonely. Iowa Nice has an underbelly — and I think most of us who have lived here long enough have felt it.

I don't want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. I love this culture. I was shaped by it. But I've become convinced that we are capable of something more — something with the same warmth and groundedness, but with more courage. More honesty. More depth. I want to help shift our culture from Iowa Nice to Iowa Kind.

This Thursday, I'm giving my first keynote on this concept for the Ottumwa Leadership Academy, and I wanted to bring you into it before I take the stage.

What is Iowa Kind?

Iowa Kind starts, maybe surprisingly, with kindness toward yourself. I know — that can sound a little soft, a little self-helpy. But stay with me. The research from Dr. Kristin Neff at the Self-Compassion Institute is clear: when we're running low on self-compassion, we tend to perform kindness rather than practice it. We smile and say yes when we mean no. We help from a place of people-pleasing rather than genuine care. We hold resentment quietly because we didn't feel entitled to say the hard thing. Self-compassion isn't indulgence — it's the foundation that makes authentic kindness possible.

Iowa Kind sounds like clear communication. This is the piece that surprises people most, because we tend to think of kindness as soft and agreeable — compliments and coffee and letting things slide. But real kindness often asks us to say the uncomfortable thing. To give the honest piece of feedback. To draw the boundary. As Brené Brown puts it: clear is kind, unclear is unkind. Some of my kindest moments have been deeply awkward, but also brave and honest and necessary.

Iowa Kind also chooses curiosity over comfort. In an increasingly divided world, it can feel easier to stay in our circles — people who look, vote, and live like us. But kindness, real kindness, asks us to stay curious about people who are different from us. Not to agree with everything, but to stay in relationship. The research on this is compelling: we are wired for cooperation, not just competition. We survive and thrive by expanding who we consider part of our community.

And finally, Iowa Kind looks like showing up. It looks like finding your particular way to contribute — not your neighbor’s way, or the leader you compare yourself to on social media’s way, or anyone else's way, but yours. Because kindness is not a personality trait. It's a verb. And there are a lot of different ways to practice it.

What Kind of Kind are you?

Which brings me to something I built that I'm pretty excited about.

Before the keynote Thursday, I put together a Kindness Style Quiz — a short, fun assessment that helps you discover your own style of showing up with Iowa Kind energy. There are 18 styles in total, and whether you're a Thoughtful Collaborator or a Strategic Trailblazer or something else entirely, I think knowing your style changes how you think about contributing to your team and your community.

And even if you've never set foot in Iowa, this one's for you too. Every leader has a kindness style worth knowing.

Take the quiz here → alliejonesconsulting.com/iowa-kind

I'd love to hear what you get. Hit reply and tell me.

With warmth and a little courage,

Allie