My protest sign focuses on human rights while another sign I created calls for ICE to get out of Rice County and Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
I PULLED OUT my long johns, wool socks, stocking cap, mittens, hand warmers, winter boots and scarf. Then I pulled out my parka and my protest sign: STAND UP FOR HUMAN RIGHTS.
This photo shows just a section of the protesters lining Minnesota State Highway 60 on Saturday. Protesters meet here weekly at 11 a.m. for an hour of peaceful protest. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
Just before 11 a.m. Saturday, Randy and I joined others outside the Rice County government services building along Minnesota State Highway 60 for our fourth protest there and the fifth in Faribault. Each week numbers grow, this time reaching some 80 of us stretched along the sidewalk with our signs.
Bundled up in 25-degree temps, a protester displays a sign against ICE. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
We are not agitators or paid protesters as some claim, but rather ordinary Minnesotans united, called by our morals, our compassion, our concerns, to publicly say we are not OK with what is happening in this country. We are Minnesotans who care about immigrants and refugees, about freedom, about the Constitution, about due process and much more. We are concerned about the presence of ICE agents, whom we want out of our community, out of our state, after two-plus months of occupation.
If you look closely at the banner on the lamp post, you will see a photo of a local veteran. Many veterans have joined the Saturday protests, recognizing the importance of standing up for freedom and Constitutional rights. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
And so we protest, week after week in our community an hour south of Minneapolis, because our city, too, has been impacted by ICE. People have been taken by federal agents from an apartment complex near the public library, by the railroad tracks near the turkey processing plant, from the trailer parks… It’s documented in videos. Warning horns blare, whistles sound, bystanders yell, sometimes. ICE has parked for hours in a neighborhood with Hispanic families. Watching, intimidating, silently threatening. Agents have photographed license plates at a gas station. This is reality in my city of 25,000.
School attendance has dropped. People are afraid to go to work, afraid to go grocery shopping and/or to food shelves (because ICE is watching), afraid to go to the doctor, afraid to leave their homes for fear of being taken by ICE. Legal status doesn’t seem to matter, only skin color, although even white people have been detained (with two killed) in Minnesota. Neighbors, churches and more have rallied to help with grocery shopping and delivery, walking kids to bus stops, giving co-workers rides. That support matters as does participating in protests. I’ve personally been thanked by Latinos and a Somali man for protesting.
This is why I’ve become an activist. This is why I use my voice as a writer and photographer. That is why I’ve started volunteering at a local food shelf. No one should live in fear of simply going about their daily lives. I am also doing this for my young grandchildren. I want them to understand the importance of speaking up for others. I want them to realize, when they are old enough, that their grandma did not remain silent in the face of atrocities inflicted by the federal government upon its people.
One protester drew on history to create his protest sign. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
There is value in publicly taking a stand, especially in a city like mine which votes red. (Well, certainly not all of us.) Every protest brings out some who object to our activism as they drive by. That is their Constitutional right. They flash middle fingers, shout profanities, sometimes drive aggressively close, raging mad. That is not OK, potentially endangering people protesting in a public space. But we remain undeterred in raising our voices.
Cold winter weather has not stopped Minnesotans from bundling up to speak up. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
ON TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 10, a group of county residents are going to the Rice County Board of Commissioners meeting to speak about the impact of ICE on the community. That will happen during the open comments portion of the meeting at 8 a.m. I’m not part of that group, but was made aware of it. I’ve felt for a while that our local city and county government officials need to address this topic. ICE is certainly having a negative impact on the health, safety and well-being of county residents both directly and indirectly. That should not, and cannot, be ignored.
We must all do whatever we can, whenever we can, however we can to speak up, help and love our neighbors, and stand strong in the face of tyranny and injustice.
An eye-catching goalpost sign marks a food collection point just outside the sanctuary of St. John’s Lutheran Church, Lakeville. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
AS I WRITE, the Super Bowl is playing out on the television screen in the next room. I could care less.
But I do care about the Soup Per Bowl Sunday that played out this morning in a south metro church. I was there attending a pancake breakfast fundraiser for kids going to summer camp. That includes my young granddaughter.
Donations collected at St. John’s for a food shelf. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
After a hearty breakfast of pancakes with blueberry sauce, cheesy hash browns and sausages, I headed to the narthex on my way to the 10:30 a.m. worship service at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Lakeville. Just outside the sanctuary, I spotted a large collection of filled grocery bags. Turns out this was this faith community’s version of the Super Bowl.
Looking down into bags filled with food and personal care products. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
At St. John’s, it was a Soup Per Bowl of Kindness, according to associate pastor Nathan Lyke. And that kindness came in grocery bags filled with cans of soup, spaghetti, peanut butter, cereal, granola bars, flour, hot chocolate mix, toothpaste, personal hygiene products and much more. A generous outpouring of donations for a designated food shelf.
All across Minnesota, faith communities, individuals and nonprofits are stepping up to feed others, as noted in the day’s Old Testament reading from Isaiah 58, specifically verse seven, “to share your bread with the hungry.”
Gratitude expressed for generosity. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
I personally know of people who are donating money and food, collecting monetary donations from family and friends, buying groceries and/or delivering food to food shelves for bagging and distribution to people sheltering in their homes because of ICE. I know of people proxy-shopping at local food shelves and then taking groceries to people sheltering in their homes because of ICE. I know of local churches collecting food and delivering to people sheltering in their homes because of ICE.
This story is repeating through community after community in my state. I’ve never been more proud to be a Minnesotan, to live in a place where we take care of each other, where Super Bowl Sunday means much more than a football game.
The service program cover featured an historic photo of Native Americans incarcerated at Ft. Snelling following the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862 prior to their deportation from Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
WE GATHERED. On a day when I learned that a friend, an American citizen, was recently racially-profiled and stopped by ICE. On a day when I learned that ICE vehicles have been parked in my neighborhood. On a day when several Minnesota children were released from federal detainment in Texas. On a day when the border czar announced the draw-down of 700 federal agents (out of 3,000) in Minnesota. On this early February day, 75 of us gathered for an “Evening Prayer Service for Our Nation” at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault, Bishop Henry Whipple’s church.
The prayer service was open to anyone who wanted to attend in a church I’ve always considered especially welcoming and focused on serving community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
I needed this service of prayer, scripture, Psalms, reflection and hymns to quiet my troubled spirit. But I needed, too, to hold space, to sit and stand and sing and pray in community, in support of anyone—especially our immigrant and refugee neighbors—illegally stopped, taken and/or detained by ICE.
A couple leans on one another during the service. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
This was not a protest service. Rather, this was a reflective, prayerful, unifying, worshipful coming together of people in my community who care deeply about their neighbors and about this nation.
People arrive for the 7 pm service inside the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
The Rev. James Zotalis welcomed attendees to the event held inside the massive Episcopal cathedral completed in 1869 under the leadership of Bishop Whipple. “Welcome to the Whipple building,” Zotalis said in opening his short homily. “This is the real Whipple building.”
Gathered inside the cathedral for the prayer service. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
He contrasted the beautiful church to the stark seven-story Whipple Federal Building 50 miles to the north that bears the good bishop’s name and which is now a temporary detention center for those detained by ICE in Minnesota. Conditions inside have been described as “inhumane” by officials who have visited the facility.
A portrait of Bishop Henry Whipple hanging inside the cathedral. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
The cathedral, Zotalis said, is a place of love and peace, its ministry modeled after that of Bishop Whipple and his first wife, Cornelia. Arriving here from Chicago in 1859, the couple had already served in dangerous areas of that city, connecting with people in tangible, helpful ways, much like we see Minnesotans stepping up and helping others today.
The Rev. Henry Doyle, left, a church member, and the Rev. James Zotalis, right, start the service with a processional. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
With a repeated directive to “always say no to evil,” Zotalis said Minnesotans have done just that since the invasion of our state by masked federal agents two months ago. He listed specifics: bringing food to people afraid to leave their homes, providing rides, offering free legal aid and peacefully protesting.
Among the many hymns we sang was #482, “Lord of all hopefulness.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
“Love your neighbor as yourself” was emphasized often in love-themed Scripture readings (Luke 10:27, I Corinthians 13:13, I John 4:11) during the Wednesday evening service. Like the good people of Minnesota today, Bishop Whipple showed that love long ago in his ministry to the Dakota people locally, across the state and during their imprisonment after the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862 at Fort Snelling, where the Whipple Federal Building is located. Whipple faced death threats for those who opposed his compassionate work with Native Americans.
Death. In a time of remembrance during Wednesday’s service, attendees could speak the names of “deceased and alive during this time of tragedy and strife.” I spoke first: “Renee Good.” Then another voice: “Alex Pretti.” And then an attendee read the names of 32 individuals who died in ICE detention in 2025. Thirty-two.
A woman holds a prayer book used often during the service. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
Many times my emotions verged on tears. As we asked, “Lord, keep this nation under your care.” As we sang “America the Beautiful.” As we prayed a Collect for Peace. As I thought of Jesus, who also lived in troubled times and who served with love and compassion.
Theme words of love, compassion, mercy and neighbor threaded throughout the service led by the reverends Zotalis and Henry Doyle. I could feel those words. And I could feel, too, the collective sense that we all needed this evening of prayer, scripture, Psalms, reflection and hymns to quiet our troubled spirits.
A wish on the Wish Wall at Buckham Memorial Library, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
I happened upon this project a few weeks ago while walking through the hallway connecting Buckham Memorial Library to the Faribault rec center. I knew I needed to write about this effort to gather comments in a time of much uncertainty and turmoil in America as we approach the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence.
Posting a wish at the Carleton College Library during the project launch. (Photo by and courtesy of Zachary Spindler-Krage, Division of Communications, Carleton College)
Weeks into the project, Wish Walls, set up in eight locations throughout Rice County, are generating high interest and participation. “The public has really embraced the opportunity to express their feelings about America on its birthday. We originally hoped we’d get 200 responses total. I suspect now that we’ll get three times that number by the time we take down the Wish Walls (around February 16)” said Serena Zabin, professor of history and liberal arts at Carleton College in Northfield. She teaches the class, HIST 216: History Beyond Walls, that is leading this civic engagement effort.
The Wish Wall in the hallway outside Buckham Library had only two wishes when I photographed it several weeks ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
WISHING FOR UNITY & MORE
And what are people in Faribault writing on those Wish Walls, which I checked on January 21-22? Answers range from personal to general. Some common themes emerge with wishes for love, happiness, respect, kindness, empathy… I especially appreciated the wish that we would “…learn to be color blind. We are more the same than we are different.” That resonates.
One simple wish at the Oasis. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
I felt the deep concern of the writer who hopes for a return to “humanity.” Another wishes “that we wouldn’t be so politically aggravated.” Another holds one singular wish: Unity.
Posted at the Oasis. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
There’s a lot of thought and emotion behind these written words posted on local Wish Walls. When I read about desires that no one go hungry, that all can access medical care, that we ought to help our neighbors, I felt the love of community.
Sharpies and cards for writing wishes at the Buckham Library Wish Wall. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
REVIEW, ANALYZE, SUMMARIZE, LEARN
When the Wish Walls come down, the Carleton College history class will review, analyze and summarize the comments, looking for patterns and common themes, determining whether location impacted responses and more, according to professor Zabin. Results will be shared via social media through the college and the county historical society and at the county fair.
Students will also compare comments with historical research they are doing on the commemoration of the 1876 Centennial, Zabin said, with a goal to answer this question: If there had been Wish Walls around Rice County in 1876, what responses might people have posted?
Penning a wish for America during the project launch at the Carleton College Library. (Photo by and courtesy of Zachary Spindler-Krage, Division of Communications, Carleton College)
I appreciate the work of these students, who are monitoring the Wish Walls, making public presentations and researching. What they learn will not only be invaluable in connecting them with local communities, but will also provide useful information and insights for those of us who call Rice County home. Responses and reports will be kept in a time capsule by the county historical society.
At Faribault’s senior center, Buckham West, a wish for Americans. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Via this nationwide project, people from across the country are sharing their thoughts about America’s future. There’s much to contemplate during this 250th year anniversary of the Declaration of Independence and the birth of our nation in the context of today in the U.S.
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FYI: Wish Walls in Rice County have been placed in Faribault at Buckham Memorial Library, Buckham West and The Oasis 55021; in Northfield at the Northfield Public Library, FiftyNorth Senior Center, the Key Youth Center and the Carleton College Library; and at the Lonsdale Public Library.
(Promo courtesy of the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour)
FIFTY MILES FROM THE NON-DESCRIPT Bishop Henry Whipple Federal Building currently housing ICE detainees in Minneapolis, a beautiful, aged cathedral rises high in the heart of Faribault. Wednesday evening, February 4, that magnificent, massive cathedral—Bishop Whipple’s church—will center a community gathering.
The historic Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour, 515 Second Avenue Northwest, across from Central Park in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2025)
Beginning at 7 p.m. the historic Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour will open its doors for “Evening Prayer for Our Nation” in support of Faribault’s refugees and immigrants. The Cathedral’s pastor, the Rev. James Zotalis, and the Rev. Henry Doyle will lead the event, which includes prayers, readings, music and teachings from Bishop Whipple.
Organizers also promise networking opportunities and information about ways to help others.
A mural on the back side of the Central Park bandshell in Faribault features a portrait and information about Bishop Henry Whipple. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Bishop Whipple, who shepherded this congregation while serving as the first Episcopal bishop of Minnesota beginning in 1859, would surely be pleased with the upcoming gathering just as he would surely be displeased with the imprisonment of detainees at the federal building bearing his name. He would likely be standing alongside protesters protesting immigration enforcement and asking to visit detainees inside.
This clergyman focused his ministry on “justice and mercy for all.” And that is evidenced in his ministry to the Dakota both in Faribault and parts west in Minnesota and then at Fort Snelling. Whipple went to the fort and ministered to the Dakota held captive there following the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862.
When 303 Dakota were sentenced to hanging after the war, Whipple traveled to Washington DC to ask President Abraham Lincoln to spare their lives. Lincoln pardoned most, but 38 were still hung in the nation’s largest mass execution.
Encouraging words posted near a garden in the heart of downtown Faribault many years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
If Bishop Whipple was alive today, I expect he would be doing everything in his power to help anyone threatened and/or taken by ICE and CBC. But because he is not here, it is up to us to help. I know many people in my community are helping quietly behind the scenes. Walking kids to bus stops. Giving co-workers rides. Delivering groceries. Donating money and food. Volunteering.
Wednesday evening’s “Evening Prayer for Our Nation” is needed, too. It’s needed to bring people together in community, to unite, to uplift, to pray, to share, to recharge, to publicly support our neighbors, to find tangible ways to help. Bishop Whipple would feel grateful. He cared. And so should we.
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FYI: Whether you live near or far, Faribault nonprofits are in need of donations to help families sheltering in place during ICE operations in Minnesota. This is not just a Twin Cities metro enforcement. Many communities in greater Minnesota, including mine, are suffering.
Somali men gather on a bench in downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)
HE ARRIVED IN MINNESOTA as a teenage refugee from Somalia. Today Ibrahim Khalif heads the nonprofit Faribault Youth Empowerment Center. And Thursday evening this well-spoken young man with a sense of humor spoke to nearly 60 people at Buckham Memorial Library. We gathered to learn about Somali history and culture in a “Building Bridges Across Cultures” talk.
I am a firm believer that knowledge, understanding and personal connections do, indeed, build bridges.
Ibrahim presented a whole lot of information with accompanying slides. So, rather than attempt to cover everything, I’ll share some highlights.
The Somalian culture is an oral culture, Ibrahim said. That was not new to me, mostly because I’ve heard complaints through the years of locals fearing the Somali men who gather on street corners in downtown Faribault. I knew these men met outside to chat and share news, much like men everywhere meet for coffee and playing cards. Many Somalis live above businesses in downtown Faribault and street corners are their front porches.
ARRIVING IN FARIBAULT
In the early 2000s, Somalis began arriving in Faribault, many from refugee camps, Ibrahim said. They fled a civil war that started in 1991 with faith-based organizations—Lutheran and Catholic—helping them resettle in America. Ibrahim showed before and after the civil war pictures of Somalia that revealed absolute devastation. He also showed images of crowded refugee camps.
Minnesota is home to the largest population of Somalis, some 25,000, outside of Somalia. Thousands call my community home. Ibrahim shared that they came to Faribault for a quiet life, to be close to family already here (family is deeply-valued), for the education system, affordable housing and jobs not requiring English-speaking skills. He specifically named the local turkey processing plant as a place of employment.
Challenges upon arrival included, as you would expect, language barriers, an educational system unprepared for an influx of Somali students, difficulty making friends, racial discrimination and more, Ibrahim said.
VETTING
While I was taking notes, I starred Ibrahim’s statement that refugees undergo rigorous security vetting and screening by the FBI before they are allowed into America. I found that especially pertinent in these times when Somali refugees have been targeted by the federal government and called “garbage” by the president who wants them out of the U.S. Yes, Somalis are worried, Ibrahim acknowledged. Yet, he sounded upbeat, emphasizing several times how much he loves Faribault.
LEARNING
I appreciated that Ibrahim engaged us via asking us to repeat Somali phrases that will help us connect with our Somali neighbors. I admit, I struggled. But I tried and trying is a start. He encouraged us to love each other, to break the ice even with something as simple as a smile. To build partnerships.
But a hug or a handshake with someone of the opposite sex, unless initiated by the person, is unacceptable in Somali culture. Both my friend Ann and I publicly admitted breaking that cultural rule, unbeknownst to us. I am a hugger.
I am also an appreciator of personal details, like Ibrahim’s memory of drinking water from a dirty creek in Somalia and how much his elderly parents miss goats and cattle.
LAUGHING
I also appreciate Somali food, enjoying a savory sambusa Ibrahim brought in a heaping tray to the event. When an audience member asked about his favorite Somali food, Ibrahim replied, burgers and fries. The crowd erupted in laughter.
It felt good to laugh. In the midst of everything happening in Minnesota with ICE, we need laughter. And we need individuals like Ibrahim, standing strong and helping build bridges across cultures.
A hope medallion gifted to me by my friend Beth Ann many years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
IN THE MIDST of the invasion of Minnesota, not just Minneapolis, by armed masked badge-less federal agents who are violently detaining and taking people, even fatally shooting them, I am trying to find hope.
And that comes to me in big and small ways. Never underestimate the power of your voice, the power of your compassionate words and actions no matter who you are, where you live.
In the speeches of legislators in Washington, DC, on Wednesday, I heard praise for the strength of Minnesotans. I heard concern for our country and our democracy. And I listened to Minnesota Senators Amy Klobuchar and Tina Smith boldly, loudly call for this federal invasion to stop. That’s me paraphrasing their messages. To hear them say they’ve never felt more proud of Minnesotans brought me to tears.
A hope stone that sits on my desk. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
THE WORDS OF A POET & A MUSICIAN
Then there are the words printed on a card that arrived in my mailbox from a blog reader, who has countless times sent me uplifting notes, cards and more simply because she is a kind, compassionate, caring person. On the front of that card were these lines from poet Emily Dickinson: Hope is the thing with feathers/that perches in the soul/and sings the tune without the words/and never stops at all. Roxy has followed my blog long enough to know that “hope” is one of my favorite words.
And then there are the words penned and sung by Bruce Springsteen in “Streets of Minneapolis.” Springsteen doesn’t hold back in his just-released anti-ICE protest song. …Against smoke and rubber bullets/By the dawn’s early light/Citizens stood for justice/Their voices ringing through the night… He specifically references the whistles and phones the people of Minneapolis (and throughout Minnesota) have used to alert people to ICE’s presence and to document their actions. He unleashes strong words against ICE and federal government leaders and officials. Several people sent me links to that song because they knew I would appreciate the lyrics, the ways in which creatives can powerfully protest.
Words from Mr. Rogers in a front yard in the small town of Nerstrand, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
SO MANY HELPERS
Another blogger friend has uplifted me many times in recent weeks by sharing about protests, vigils and more in Ann Arbor, Michigan, where she lives. It helps to know that Beth and others across the country and world are lifting up Minnesotans, protesting wherever they live, fighting for what is moral and right.
Ruth, a blogger friend from Pittsburgh, is knitting red “Melt the ICE” hats using a design from the 1940s. Norwegians knit and wore the pointed, tasseled hats to visually protest against Nazi occupation of their country. Proceeds from pattern sales will go to immigrant agencies to help those impacted by the actions of ICE. Ruth and other knitters are using their talents to protest, to help.
Mr. Rogers would be proud of all the helpers.
Closer to home, while walking Wednesday morning inside a soccer dome, I shared with several people about protesting and ways to help immigrant families locally. Others in my circle have donated money, via my direction, to a local food shelf and also to one in the south metro. Volunteers are delivering food to people afraid to leave their homes because of ICE. Minnesotans all across the state are stepping up to help their neighbors.
All of this gives me hope. Hope perches. Hope sings. Hope never stops.
Some places are culturally-diverse, others not. This new mural at the Congregational Church of Faribault United Church of Christ reflects Faribault’s diversity. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2025)
I GREW UP in southwestern Minnesota, in rural western Redwood County where diversity was absent unless you count religious affiliation or ancestry as diversity. You were either Lutheran or Catholic with a few Methodists, Presbyterians and Brethren thrown in the mix. And you were of German, Irish, Polish or Scandinavian descent, but mostly German. And your skin color was certainly white, unless you were among the Native Americans living on the eastern side of the county.
I left Redwood County for college in the early 1970s. Not much has changed in racial demographics in that rural area, population hovering around 15,000, with the exception of a sizable Hmong population resettling in small town Walnut Grove. Leaving the prairie, a place I loved and still love, broadened my perspectives.
Many Somalis live in downtown Faribault above businesses. They often meet on street corners to visit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)
Today I live on the eastern side of Minnesota in Faribault, a city of around 25,000 about an hour south of Minneapolis. Mine is a diverse community, home to many Hispanics, Latinos and Somalis. They work here, raise families here, open businesses here and add much color and culture to this city I’ve called home since 1984. Somalis are the newest of Faribault’s immigrants and the group which still struggles with animosity toward them. That makes getting to know them and their stories especially important.
Lul Abdi shows off beautiful wood crafts from Kenya and Somalia at a past International Festival in Faribault (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I’ve attended Somali cultural events, diversity celebrations, talked with local Somalis, photographed them, drank their delicious hot tea, eaten their savory sambusas, walked into their shops, tried to learn about and embrace these residents of Faribault.
I love living in a community with such diversity. Not everyone here feels as I do and would prefer Faribault remain white and non-diverse, as it was when they were growing up. That saddens me. I often think, if only people would take the time to connect one-on-one, to listen, they would begin to see that we are all human, even if different.
Somali children watch Faribault’s 2025 Memorial Day parade. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2025)
Instead of fearing others who may not speak the same language, eat the same foods, wear the same clothes, practice the same religion, we can choose to embrace one another. In an ideal world, that would happen. But it takes time, effort and an open heart and mind to get there.
(Promo courtesy of Buckham Memorial Library)
At 6 pm this Thursday, January 29, Buckham Memorial Library is hosting a talk, “Building Bridges Across Cultures,” by Ibrahim Khalif, director of Faribault Youth Empowerment. He will present on the history and culture of Somalia in the library’s Great Hall. The event is part of the library’s adult programming efforts.
This talk is certain to be interesting and informative. The title alone, with the words “building bridges,” reflects my feelings on what needs to happen in my community. A bridge gets you from one side to the other, to a different destination. But to get from one side to the other, you need to first build a bridge together then willingly cross it, not remain firmly planted and divided on a riverbank, unwilling to move.
The stories of six women from Mexico are featured on these panels in a traveling exhibit in the atrium of the Northfield Public Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
STORIES CONNECT US on a personal level. And now, more than ever, it’s important to hear and read the stories of others to grow understanding, acceptance and community.
An introductory panel explains the exhibit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
One of my favorite quotes in the exhibit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
“Chicāhuac” is an endeavor of Puentes/Bridges, a nonprofit that helps farming communities in southeastern Minnesota and western Wisconsin bridge cultural and language gaps between Mexican workers, farmers and communities. During the past 20 years, dairy farmers have traveled to Mexico to meet the families of their employees. Fifth-generation Wisconsin dairy farmer and co-founder of Puentes/Bridges, John Rosenow, sparked this public storytelling project.
A portrait of Oligaria by Olivia Villareal-Bishop. Oligaria worked on a dairy farm in the U.S. before returning to Mexico. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Many dairy farmers in both Minnesota and Wisconsin, including Rosenow, rely on Mexican migrants to milk and care for their cows. Two of the women profiled in the exhibit worked on U.S. dairy farms before returning home to Mexico.
As someone who grew up on a family dairy farm, I understand the value of skilled laborers committed to being there day in and day out to milk cows. Advances in mechanization have certainly made milking cows easier in the years since I left the farm. But it’s still not a job many would choose. Yet, these men (and some women) from Mexico are choosing this work to support themselves and their families across the border.
Those viewing the exhibit are invited to write messages to the women on individual postcards. Those will then be delivered by Puentes/Bridges to the women. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Support of family is a consistent theme running throughout the narratives of the six women featured in the exhibit. Their loved ones in America send money back to Mexico so their families can have a better life.
Veronica’s story, in Spanish, in the bilingual exhibit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
In her words, Veronica says, “I took the money Roberto sent and bought some land, built a house for us, built a house for his parents, raised three kids to be great human beings, and at one time cared for 17 people in our household.”
I’ve long understood the high value Latinos place on family, observing those strong ties while out and about in my community. The words of these six women reaffirm “familismo,” placing family needs above that of the individual.
A quote stresses the importance of community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Yet, the separation of families takes an emotional toll on those left behind in Mexico and those now living in America. “When they go, it’s so sad,” says Teresa. “One suffers a lot. You cry when they go. You don’t know how long it will take them, when they’ll arrive, how they’ll be treated, who will give them a little glass of water if they need it?”
Each of the six women have their own panel telling their stories. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Imagine if you were that mother—Concepciona, Doña Conchita, Fatima, Oligaria, Teresa or Veronica. I admire the strength of these women who endure much, who remain strong and resilient.
Among the many photos in the exhibit is this one of Fatima and her mom making tortillas. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Back in Mexico, these women grow corn, make tortillas, spin wool into yarn, run a school supply store and much more. They care for their families, honor and celebrate their culture, connect with and embrace their communities.
Their stories matter. They matter. And it’s important for all of us to understand that.
The atrium side/lower level entry to the Northfield Public Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
FYI: “Chicāhuac: Women’s Stories of Strength & Sacrifice from Rural Mexico to the Midwest” will be at the Northfield library until February 4. Then it moves to the Cannon Falls Public Library, opening there on February 5 through February 21. After that, Lanesboro, LaCrescent and Red Wing will host the exhibit. You can view the exhibit and learn more about Puentes/Bridges online at https://www.puentesbridges.org/ This exhibit stemmed from a 2025 trip to Mexico and a collaboration between Puentes/Bridges, the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire and the Wisconsin Latinx History Collective.
My cousin Jill Bode left this message at the memorial for Alex Pretti in south Minneapolis. (Photo credit: Jill Bode)
I HAVE EXTENDED FAMILY and friends living in south Minneapolis where ICE agents shot and killed two American citizens on the streets recently. First Renee Good and now Alex Pretti, both 37 years old.
My family has kept me updated on their participation in protests, their ICE sightings, their visits to memorials. I appreciate their first-person observations. And their activism.
A touching message from Felix, a former patient of Alex Pretti, an ICU nurse. (Photo credit: Jill Bode)
All images in this blog post were taken by my cousin Jill Bode at the memorial for Alex Pretti, an ICU nurse at the Minneapolis VA Medical Center. Veterans from all over Minnesota seek care at the VA. That includes my next door neighbor and my dad many years ago.
A view of the street by the Alex Pretti memorial where people continue to gather. (Photo credit: Jill Bode)
As hard as this whole situation is on me because I’m a Minnesotan and ICE is also in my community, it’s certainly much harder on my loved ones living in the epicenter of this massive, out-of-control enforcement effort by agents of the federal government. Jill and her husband, Mark, live about a mile from the place where Alex was shot and killed on Saturday morning. The granddaughter of a dear friend of mine was a neighbor to Alex and she’s taking it hard. We all are. My heart goes out to family and friends of Alex and Renee.
President Donald Trump promised “a day of reckoning and retribution” in Minnesota. I’m sharing that quote to remind everyone of his politically-motivated, threatening words, not to give him more voice.
Among the messages left at the memorial is one from a Louisiana veteran, top center. The pink building in the background is Glam Doll Donuts, directly across the street from where Alex was killed. (Photo credit: Jill Bode)
He underestimated Minnesotans—how tough and strong and determined we are, how we care for one another and also know right from wrong. We have a moral compass.
Take time to look closely at the messages left at the memorial. (Photo credit: Jill Bode)
To everyone across the country and world who has Minnesota’s back, who is supporting us via words and actions, thank you. I am grateful.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Continuing to raise our Minnesota Strong voices in Faribault February 9, 2026
Tags: activism, commentary, Constitutional rights, Faribault, free speech, freedom, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, injustice, Minnesota, Minnesota Strong, news, protests, Rice County
I PULLED OUT my long johns, wool socks, stocking cap, mittens, hand warmers, winter boots and scarf. Then I pulled out my parka and my protest sign: STAND UP FOR HUMAN RIGHTS.
Just before 11 a.m. Saturday, Randy and I joined others outside the Rice County government services building along Minnesota State Highway 60 for our fourth protest there and the fifth in Faribault. Each week numbers grow, this time reaching some 80 of us stretched along the sidewalk with our signs.
We are not agitators or paid protesters as some claim, but rather ordinary Minnesotans united, called by our morals, our compassion, our concerns, to publicly say we are not OK with what is happening in this country. We are Minnesotans who care about immigrants and refugees, about freedom, about the Constitution, about due process and much more. We are concerned about the presence of ICE agents, whom we want out of our community, out of our state, after two-plus months of occupation.
And so we protest, week after week in our community an hour south of Minneapolis, because our city, too, has been impacted by ICE. People have been taken by federal agents from an apartment complex near the public library, by the railroad tracks near the turkey processing plant, from the trailer parks… It’s documented in videos. Warning horns blare, whistles sound, bystanders yell, sometimes. ICE has parked for hours in a neighborhood with Hispanic families. Watching, intimidating, silently threatening. Agents have photographed license plates at a gas station. This is reality in my city of 25,000.
School attendance has dropped. People are afraid to go to work, afraid to go grocery shopping and/or to food shelves (because ICE is watching), afraid to go to the doctor, afraid to leave their homes for fear of being taken by ICE. Legal status doesn’t seem to matter, only skin color, although even white people have been detained (with two killed) in Minnesota. Neighbors, churches and more have rallied to help with grocery shopping and delivery, walking kids to bus stops, giving co-workers rides. That support matters as does participating in protests. I’ve personally been thanked by Latinos and a Somali man for protesting.
This is why I’ve become an activist. This is why I use my voice as a writer and photographer. That is why I’ve started volunteering at a local food shelf. No one should live in fear of simply going about their daily lives. I am also doing this for my young grandchildren. I want them to understand the importance of speaking up for others. I want them to realize, when they are old enough, that their grandma did not remain silent in the face of atrocities inflicted by the federal government upon its people.
There is value in publicly taking a stand, especially in a city like mine which votes red. (Well, certainly not all of us.) Every protest brings out some who object to our activism as they drive by. That is their Constitutional right. They flash middle fingers, shout profanities, sometimes drive aggressively close, raging mad. That is not OK, potentially endangering people protesting in a public space. But we remain undeterred in raising our voices.
ON TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 10, a group of county residents are going to the Rice County Board of Commissioners meeting to speak about the impact of ICE on the community. That will happen during the open comments portion of the meeting at 8 a.m. I’m not part of that group, but was made aware of it. I’ve felt for a while that our local city and county government officials need to address this topic. ICE is certainly having a negative impact on the health, safety and well-being of county residents both directly and indirectly. That should not, and cannot, be ignored.
We must all do whatever we can, whenever we can, however we can to speak up, help and love our neighbors, and stand strong in the face of tyranny and injustice.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling