A blizzard tore through the Texas Panhandle this weekend. Wipe that disbelieving frown off your face; yes, it snows in Texas. I awoke on my second morning home for the holidays to see white gusts blowing sideways outside my window. We were house-bound, and the snow rendered the roads so impassable that an 80-car pileup slammed into I-40, just outside Amarillo (which is about 120 miles south of my hometown, Perryton). On the rural plains, there are no trees, no tall buildings, no blips on the flat surface of the landscape to break the winds and provide a buffer from the onslaught of winter weather. Not only does it snow in Texas, but the conditions snowstorms bring are fiercer and more violent here than I’ve ever experienced in my going-on-8-years in the Northeast.

With not much to keep me occupied (I taught my sister to play Scrabble, started a jigsaw puzzle, and read four cookbooks cover to cover) I began to think about the misconceptions that plague my not-so-humble home state. As travelers, we encounter misconceptions (others’ and our own) with the regularity of delayed flights; this single phenomenon encompasses one of travel’s greatest challenges and the root of its greatest rewards. And it’s because we understand this that it’s our duty to dispel misconceptions wherever and whenever we are qualified. As a born-and-bred Texan who is actually quite fond of her home state, but whose first impulse upon telling others of her origins is to assure them that she isn’t, I think it’s high time to set the record straight. Please take a moment to get the cowboys-and-guns jokes out of your system. Now, coming to you straight from the Lone Star State, here are the five things every Texan wishes others understood.

Photo courtesy of IgoUgo member bmwhd

1. Texas is huge.
You probably know this already, at least in a vague sense, but I can’t count the number of times people have asked me why I don’t just drive from Dallas instead of connecting to Amarillo when I fly home (my hometown is a 7-hour drive from Dallas), or if I know someone from Houston or Austin or El Paso (distance-wise, that’s like asking someone from New York City if they know someone from Columbus, Ohio). Texas covers more than 266,000 square miles (by comparison, New York state comprises only 47,000) and makes up nearly 10% of the landmass of the entire 48 contiguous states. Doesn’t seem so unbelievable that it snows somewhere in Texas, does it?

2. Texas is beautiful.
I have a special affinity for the vast plains of the Panhandle, where nothing interrupts the huge, heavy sky, but there’s also the Hill Country in Central Texas, which turns azure in spring with a thick cloak of bluebonnets; countless picturesque lakes; and what is perhaps both Texas’ crowning glory and its best-kept secret: Big Bend National Park in West Texas, one of the country’s least visited (and therefore most untouched) natural treasures.

3. Texas is more than just Bush country.
We’re all well aware of the President’s connection to our state (though he was, ahem, born in the great state of Connecticut). No need to point it out. Yes, Texas is predominantly a Republican state; yes, hunting is one of its favorite rural pastimes; yes, you’ll get a healthy dose of cowboy hats, Wranglers, and thick Texas drawls in any non-urban area in the state (and sometimes in the urban areas too). Such is the picture of “Bush Country,” and it exists, but it’s such a small part of what Texas is. See point #1. Texas is also home to the indefatigable journalist Molly Ivins, rock legend Janis Joplin, Academy Award-winning actor and director Tommy Lee Jones, and former governor Ann Richards, whom I had the privilege of meeting once and experiencing her intelligence, charisma, and sharp-tongued humor in person. Need further proof? See more famous Texans.

4. Texas has soul.
Texans fought hard for their hugely inflated pride. You’ve probably heard of the Battle of the Alamo, when a Texan army of barely 200 men defended the storied mission for 13 days against more than 6,000 Mexican soldiers in the fight for independence. Commander William B. Travis’ famous letter, written shortly before he and his army were killed by Mexican troops, is as moving as any work of poetry I’ve ever read. (Texas did defeat the Mexican army in the end; it was the Battle of the Alamo that stalled Santa Anna’s troops long enough for Sam Houston to gather forces for the Battle of San Jacinto.) Today, you can visit the Alamo (and eat worth-the-trip-alone Mexican food) in San Antonio; in fact, Texas is chock-full of interesting history for the traveler. My favorite are the picturesque grounds of the Texas capitol in Austin; the capitol itself is the largest state capitol in the country (here’s a ripe opportunity to exclaim, “Everything is bigger is Texas!!”) and is made of pink granite that was quarried less than 50 miles away.

5. Texas is packed with culture.
I’m familiar with the tendency to reduce Texas to a single stereotype, but when I think about the vast range of cultural offerings, landscapes, and points of intrigue to be found here, it seems wildly irrational. Of all the states I’ve lived in or visited, Texas is the least disposed to a single “schtick.” Fort Worth, for instance, boasts the famous Stockyards and a thriving cowboy culture, but it’s also home to a collection of world-class art museums. Houston, usually known for its sprawling mass and big oil and gas business, also nurtures a hotbed of performing arts. And the much beloved Austin is at once the state capitol and a bastion of the weird and artistic (its claims to fame include the largest urban bat colony in North America; one of the music and film industry’s most buzzed-about annual events, South by Southwest; and a thriving community of progressive, locally owned businesses). The state’s strong Mexican presence can be felt everywhere, too, especially in Southwest Texas. And though it might seem an overstatement, I consider Tex-Mex, a glorious regional cuisine that I’ve yet to find done well anywhere else, to be nothing short of a gift from God.

Now that I’ve revealed myself to be (gasp!) a proud Texan, I’d love to hear about what misconceptions, as a citizen of the world, you feel compelled to diffuse. What dismantled misconceptions have marked the turning points in your lives as travelers?