I am a veteran. My father served in the military, as did his father. I come from several generations of Iowa farmers on both my mother’s and father’s sides. I am a straight, white, middle-aged, middle-class, male with a Christian faith. I am a fifth generation Iowan (my current Texas residence notwithstanding), and I am a staunch supporter of the Second Amendment, capitalism, law enforcement, a secure border, a strong military, and a decentralized government. I stand during the national anthem, and MAGA flags do not bother me in the least bit. Obviously, I’m a Republican, right?

I think the death penalty is an offense to humanitarian principles in every case. I believe recreational marijuana use should be regulated but legal. I have supported gay rights since the last century. I am a staunch supporter of the First Amendment, activists, transparent government oversight, legal immigration, international non-intervention, peaceful protests, and women’s autonomy. I think when people kneel during the national anthem they are actually affirming, not contradicting, the principles of our country. Pride flags do not bother me in the least bit. I do not believe corporations are people, I do not believe money is speech, and I do not think it’s acceptable for people to suffer hunger or homelessness. Obviously, I’m a Democrat, right?

What to do with a voter like me? To the chagrin of those who enjoy putting people in partisan boxes; I am neither Republican nor Democrat. I enjoy good faith conversations in which people respectfully share ideas that differ from my own. I enjoy discovering evidence that compels me to change my mind. I reject extremism in all its forms, and I detest the personal vitriol that often accompanies it. I am an inquisitive voter, more interested in knowing how to think rather than being told what to think.

I am me, and I am not alone. I think more Americans are like me than the leaders of the two major political parties and their news media surrogates care to admit.

What happens to voters like me? In a perfect world our level-headed, open-minded, pragmatic approach to life’s complexities is normal. But in a bipolar political milieu in which “compromise” is a vulgarity, party identity suffocates principles, and opposing views are treated as existential threats, voters like me are caught in the crossfire of extremists on both sides; it is exhausting.

Voters like me yearn for common sense, decency, and an ideological marketplace where thoughts can be exchanged without fear of violence or personal attacks. We understand that freedom will always be messy because people will use their freedom to make life decisions diametrically opposed to the decisions made by others. Some people will wave MAGA flags in their yards in the same neighborhood where others fly pride flags. Some people will worship in churches, synagogues, mosques, and temples; others won’t worship at all. Some people will drive Fords where others drive Subarus. There will even be Hawkeye fans living among Cyclone fans! Freedom is indeed the foundation of a chaotic world.

Voters like me view the political landscape with genuine despondence. We are not comfortable with the condescending, tone-deaf priorities of the far left, or the militaristic, intolerant tribalism of the far right. We are heartbroken by the behavior of leaders from both major parties who pledge their allegiance to a united country while working tirelessly to manifest and leverage divisiveness. We are hungry for leaders who understand, as we do in our everyday lives, that 60% of something is better than 100% of nothing, and it is possible to disagree without being disrespectful. We believe the true value of diversity is not in ensuring every conceivable birth trait is represented at every level, but that every idea has a chance to be heard, and every experience respected. Voters like me tend to support candidates who never make it out of the primaries because their views are not sufficiently extreme.

I am not old, but I am not young. I have lived long enough to witness political differences metastasize from limited political discussions into every single aspect of our lives from the clothes we wear, to the cars we drive, and the beer we drink.

Perhaps this is how it is and I should work to accept the nature of things. Perhaps it is time to silence my inner optimist once and for all, and to accept that our inherently divisive, two-party system is here to stay. I could just grab my guns, and my copies of Thoreau and Marcus Aurelius, saddle my horse, and ride off into oblivion. Or, perhaps it isn’t too late.

As I have observed the early salvos of Iowa’s gubernatorial campaign, I am heartened by the actions of Rob Sand. With apologies to Mr. Sand, my initial impression was not good. He is the kind of idealist so devoted to his principles that he seems artificial. Rob is so sincere that he seems sanctimonious at first.

But I encourage a closer look, because he really is who he says he is. Rob is an authentic American unwilling to use the government to advance a personal agenda. He is an Iowan whose professional record demonstrates a commitment to prizing our liberties and maintaining our rights. He is a white-collar intellectual with blue-collar credibility. He is more concerned about what’s right than who’s right, even when it means admitting he is wrong.

It is too early to make a decision in this race; we don’t even know who will run in the general election. But Rob Sand is worth following. I will not say that I agree with Rob on all things, but I believe he will listen to all voices and treat each voter with basic human dignity. I believe he is more interested in finding common ground, than in making enemies. And I believe he is willing to work with anyone on behalf of everyone. For voters like me, that is a great start.

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Matthew Peterson served as the commandant of the Iowa Veterans Home from 2021 to 2022. He currently resides in Texas with his family.