I've written before on various regional differences I've encountered by living in different places at different stages of my life. I've always puzzled over the pre-packaged "regional maps" that the Census Bureaus and other such agencies use to conveniently compartmentalize states. For instance, how do you define the Midwest? On the surface, I'd say you might first include all of the Great Lakes states, but then what? If you throw in Iowa, I'd say Nebraska, the Dakotas, and Kansas have to be included too. And if you add those four, do you include Missouri and Oklahoma because they are mostly agrarian states as well? Stopping there seems appropriate, but the result is a region so large as to be almost meaningless. Can we really compare the culture of metro Detroit with that of Wichita?
In the final analysis, our state borders usually do not encapsulate regional differences very well. In the Great Lakes region alone, I can think of a few microregions. Stretching from Buffalo through Cleveland, Toledo, South Bend, and Chicago, up to Milwaukee is a largely urbanized region commonly called the Rust Belt. A spur of this region reaches up through southeast Michigan to encompass Detroit, Flint, Saginaw, and Jackson. The midsections of Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio are rather Great Plains like in their history and settlement. The southern reaches of those same states are very much oriented toward the Ohio River and the cultural patterns found in Kentucky and West Virginia. Wisconsin, Minnesota, and northern Michigan form a Scandinavian bloc, in terms of ethnic makeup, culture, and even weather.
Enter Colin Woodard and his very enlightening book,
American Nations. Woodard names and describes eleven distinct nations that each have distinct histories and cultures - all within the current borders of the United States. We must recall that nation and country are not synonyms, though they are often used interchangeable. A nation is a group of people who identify with one another and share a common history and culture. Sometimes nations have their own countries (the French have France), and sometimes nations find themselves without a country (think of the Kurds, the Palestinians, or the Basques). Woodard posits that there is no American nation like there is a French nation, but, instead, our country is made up of eleven, somewhat hidden, nations, whose particular values and worldviews continue to shape our politics.

When I opened the book and first saw this map, it was as though the scales fell from my eyes. No, not all of what I described above vis a vis the Midwest shows up perfectly, but it is a clarifying diagram regardless. I'd like to consider just a few interesting spots on the map.
Firstly, there is my current situation in Washington, DC. I'd say the District itself is rather a-regional, but it is situated at the nexus of three regions. To the north, encompassing the Maryland suburbs is the Midland nation, which has its origins in the pragmatic, pacifistic efforts of the Quakers and Germans in Pennsylvania. To the east and south is the aristocratic Tidewater nation, which was founded by the younger sons of English nobles as a manorial, class-based society built on the tobacco trade. And, finally, to the west, starting just past Arlington, is the Greater Appalachian nation. Originally a lawless and individualistic land, Appalachia was settled in the 17th Century by Scotch-Irish who had left behind their war-torn lands of Northern Ireland and the Scottish border.
In local terms, this means that there's quite a difference between Maryland and Virginia (beyond the fact that Marylanders are terrible drivers). Even closer to Washington itself, "national" differences can be felt. Alexandria and Georgetown, the oldest settlements in the area, were settled from the south, from the Tidewater culture. This can still be felt in the strong attention to social class still attached to these areas. Kennedy once called Washington the "city of Northern charm and Southern efficiency." I think this statement is essentially founded on the swirling of national cultures that exists in the Potomac lowlands.
The second interesting spot is Indiana. Indianapolis, Fort Wayne, and South Bend are all in different nations. I have always sort of suspected as much. South Bend is a Yankee city, aligned with the industrial, pro-government, pro-union sensibilities of the rest of Yankeedom - from Maine to Minnesota. Fort Wayne, though an industrial city, is definitely in the Midlands. There is a mind-your-own-business attitude throughout central Indiana, where government is often seen as more of a problem than a solution. This attitude has its roots in the Quakers and the German Protestants who founded the Midlands around Philadelphia as a refuge from repressive governments in Europe. Finally, southern Indiana (including, I think, most of Indianapolis) is definitely a part of Greater Appalachia, where there is a more intense reliance on family connections alongside a very intense suspicion of authority.
As for where the borders are, exactly, within Indiana, is a question unto itself. I'd say Indianapolis and south are Greater Appalachia. Muncie is a Midland city, as is Lafayette. The Region (the northwest three counties of Indiana) are definitely Yankee.
In any event, Woodard's analysis, though very interesting, leaves out a few considerations. While the historic narrative is well done, the author avoids the current urban/rural sociological differences. Additionally, Native Americans and African Americans are generally not a part of the conversation. While it's true that both groups have never had "nation" prominence in this country, they do influence the culture and society of the United States. In any event, it's a fascinating book.