Did you know Ohio is a meme? Yep.

Apparently, we’ve earned our very own catchphrase status among Gen Z, and not in a “look at this hidden gem of the Midwest” kind of way.

“That’s so Ohio” has become a go-to phrase for something cringeworthy, chaotic, or downright bizarre. I discovered this little cultural phenomenon while visiting my other home — the D.M.V. (D.C., Maryland, Virginia area) — a place that feels like a second heart inside my chest.

Every time I go back, I remember why I love it. The food, the energy, the people I adore. It had been far too long since my last visit, and this trip was pure joy.

I stayed with one of my best friends and we got to surprise a few others with my visit. Each reunion was met with squeals, hugs and the inevitable follow-up question: “Wait… does this mean you’re finally moving back?”

And for the first time in a long time, their attempts to persuade me to stay hit a little differently. Maybe it was the energy, maybe the familiarity — but then something else came up.

In the middle of a conversation about wild news stories and viral trends, someone casually said, “That’s sooo Ohio,” and everyone laughed.

I paused. “Wait, what?”

They explained: Ohio has become shorthand for absurdity, backwardness or something you definitely don’t want to be associated with. In meme culture, we are the punchline. Ouch.

So how did we get here? How did the heart of it all become the butt of the joke?

Part of the answer lies in what we’re projecting. Whether it’s bizarre headlines, viral TikToks or divisive news stories, what gets shared becomes the narrative. And when the most visible parts of our state are controversial or cringey, the reputation sticks.

But let’s be honest — some of that blame falls on us, too. We can’t keep dragging ourselves in the group chat of life and then be shocked when others don’t see the value we know exists here.

There’s a lot of internal criticism happening across Ohio. I hear it weekly, if not daily. People complain about the economy, the weather, the politics, the lack of opportunity, and yet, they’re still here.

We scroll past articles that make us question why we’ve stayed. But what we speak about repeatedly becomes the tone of our environment. Negativity begets negativity, and cynicism spreads like wildfire.

So if that’s what dominates the conversation, how can we expect to shift public perception — or more importantly, our own?

We need to start asking ourselves what we’re amplifying. Are we reflecting the worst parts of where we live, or are we trying to lift up the good? And don’t misread this — I’m not suggesting we sugarcoat reality or ignore problems.

I’ve never been good at keeping quiet. What I’m suggesting is intentionality. What energy are we adding to the room, the conversation, the community? Are we fanning the flames or trying to contain them?

This isn’t about a branding problem. It’s about a self-worth problem. If we keep allowing Ohio to be seen as lesser, we’re telling our youth there’s nothing here for them.

So they leave. And then we wonder why we lose our talent, our innovation, our future. If we want people to believe in Ohio, we have to start by believing in it ourselves–and speaking like we do.

No, we may never hear “that’s so Ohio” as a compliment. But we can absolutely shift the story. That work starts in homes, classrooms, coffee shops, and yes — even in memes.

And yes, while “that’s so Ohio” applies to the state, I think we can all see how our little portion of the state plays into the broader picture, therefore impacted.

So, from me to you, I ask: What story are you helping tell about the place you call home?

And how do we make “that’s so Ohio” something we’d want to say?

Mother, author, entrepreneur and founder of Dandelion-Inc, Lisa Resnick wants to hear your story. Share memories with her by emailing lisa@dandelion-inc.com.