I recently returned from South Dakota, and honestly, the trip stirred up thoughts and feelings I wasn’t expecting.
There’s something about that part of the country that feels like the epitome of Americana.
The Badlands were fascinating with their strange rock formations and rugged beauty, but what struck me even more were the endless rolling plains. They felt almost sacred in their simplicity.
Cue Home on the Range:
“Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam,
Where the deer and the antelope play.
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.”
And yes—we saw all of them.
Well…technically bison, not buffalo.
That’s something I learned on the trip too. The United States has American bison. True buffalo actually live in Africa and Asia. But somewhere along the way, “buffalo” became the common American term, even though it’s not scientifically correct.
We also saw deer, antelope, and the cutest little prairie dogs imaginable.
Then there was Mount Rushmore.
And snow.
In late May.
Completely unexpected—but honestly? Kind of magical.
At Custer State Park, we learned more about the near extinction of the bison and the efforts to restore their population. At Devil’s Tower, we learned about Native American history and spiritual lore connected to the land.
But the part of the trip that impacted me the most happened somewhere I never expected—a comedy club in Rapid City.
Two of the comedians were Oglala Lakota, and they spoke openly about life on the reservation, the poverty many families experience, and the racism they still encounter when they come into town.
And it hit me hard.
Not because I was shocked those struggles exist—but because I realized how little I truly understood about them.
I spent many years living in Arizona, where reservations were nearby, but if I’m honest, I think I had blinders on during that period of my life. I saw them, but I didn’t really see them.
I mean, if you're a good human, you've got my vote. I don't care what you look like.
Now, at this stage of my life, I find myself deeply curious about people.
Curious in a human way, not a judgmental way.
I want to understand what shapes people. What brings them joy. What breaks their hearts. What traditions and struggles and histories they carry.
The conversation that night made me want to spend time on a reservation—not as some voyeuristic tourist experience, but to listen, observe, learn, and better understand a culture and experience very different from my own.
I told my husband that maybe I should have become a sociologist and psychologist.
Not that it’s too late.
But at this point in life, six more years of school doesn’t exactly sound appealing—especially with retirement on the horizon for him in another six years.
Still, I think part of me will always be a student of people.
And maybe that’s why I love travel so much.
The scenery, the food, the photos. And for the perspective.
Travel reminds us how big the world really is.
It challenges assumptions.
It teaches empathy.
It expands our understanding of humanity.
You can read books. Watch documentaries. Scroll social media.
But there is something profoundly different about standing in a place, talking to people, hearing their stories, and experiencing a small piece of their reality for yourself.
That’s where growth happens.
That’s where understanding begins.
And maybe that’s the real purpose of travel in the first place.
To learn.
To experience.
To understand.
To remember that the world is so much bigger than our own little corner of it.
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Remi Gibbs is a certified life coach, positive psychology practitioner, speaker, workshop facilitator, and author of Renovate Your Reality. She helps women in midlife reconnect with their purpose, advocate for their well-being, and design lives rooted in clarity, resilience, and authenticity.
If you’re ready to step into your next chapter with more confidence, self-trust, and support, let’s chat. Learn more at www.renovatedrealities.com or follow along on Instagram and Facebook @RenovatedRealities.
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