Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Into the country to pick rhubarb, but so much more May 31, 2023

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The gravel road past our friends’ Rice County farm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

EVERYONE OUGHT TO OCCASIONALLY take a drive into the countryside along back county roads and gravel roads trailing dust. It’s good for the soul, spirit and mind to route into a quiet place defined by fields and farm sites. Away from town. Away from houses clumped together in blocks. Into a wide open place where land and sky meet and space seems infinite.

Randy and I found all of that recently as we drove east of Faribault, passing fields sprouting corn, farm sites nudging the highway. We aimed toward our friend Barb and Bob’s farm, invited there to harvest rhubarb. It’s an annual spring rite for us.

Bird folk art. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

But for me, this is about much more than gathering rhubarb. It’s about enveloping myself in the peacefulness of rural Minnesota. When only the trill of birds, the roar of a tractor and conversation with our friends break the silence, I feel utterly, contentedly at home. I feel grounded and rooted and connected and transported back to the farm of my youth, albeit 120 miles to the west.

Formerly a smokehouse, this is now used for storing gardening tools. The rhubarb patch flourishes alongside the aged building. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

I never pull a single stalk of rhubarb from the patch next to the aged clay block smokehouse. While Randy harvests, I roam. With my camera.

Beautiful rural Rice County, east of Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

First, I pause to take in the rural landscape—fields, trees, gravel road below a clear blue sky. Oh, place of my heart.

A familiar rural site, a silo. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Then I head toward the silo towering over the farm site. Many times I climbed the ladder into the silo back on my childhood farm to fork silage and toss it down the chute to feed the cows. It was hard, smelly work. But when you worked on a dairy, livestock and crop farm 60-plus years ago, chores were labor intensive.

Barb’s “Star Shadow” barn quilt. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

From the silo, I turn my focus to the weathered plywood quilt block square displayed on the side of a tin-covered pole shed. The artwork, “Star Shadow,” honors Barb’s passion for quilting. It’s a nice addition to the building. I like barn quilt art, which surged in popularity perhaps a decade or more ago. There are places in Minnesota, like the Caledonia area in Houston County, where you can take a self-guided tour and view 59 barn quilts. For my generation, especially, quilts are part of our family history. Patchwork quilts layered beds, providing warmth on frigid Minnesota winter nights. I cherish remembrances of my paternal grandmother’s quilt tops, quilting frame and the quilts she gifted to me and all of her 40-plus grandchildren.

Apple blossoms. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

This visit to Barb and Bob’s farm brings back so many memories. I wander among the apple trees, most blossoms spent, and watch an elusive Monarch butterfly flit among the branches. I can almost taste the sweetness of apple jelly spooned onto buttered toast.

The growing pile of rhubarb. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

I check in with Randy, who hasn’t called me to help with the rhubarb harvest. He understands the pull I feel to photograph. Via photography, I notice details and that is such a gift. He’s gathered a growing stash of thick green stalks tipped in pink. Rhubarb seems such a humble fruit. Perfect for crisp, sauce or pie.

A tractor heads to a field with a roller to pack the soil. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

A tractor roars by then, dust rising around and behind as it pulls an unfamiliar farm implement down the gravel road. A roller, Randy notes later when we pass a packed farm field.

Randy carries discarded leaves away from the rhubarb patch. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Then quiet settles again. Randy gathers the pile of rhubarb leaves, tidying the area around the old smokehouse.

We visited near the lilacs. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

We head back toward the farmhouse, this time rousing Barb and Bob, who earlier did not hear Randy’s knocks. We settle in for a chat which turns into a lengthy conversation in the shade of trees, near the lilac bush, in their front yard garden. Birds sing. Butterflies fly. Words rise. Cold, filtered well water poured from a fancy pitcher into thick, hefty glasses quenches thirst. The four of us simply enjoy each other’s company. No hurry. Nowhere to be.

Birdhouse on an outbuilding. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

I step away to photograph several of Barb’s many birdhouses.

The shy farm cat. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

And then the orange farm cat appears. I excuse myself again, to photograph Fred, who requires significant coaxing to come closer. But he is skittish. My camera lens, followed by the click of the shutter scares him away.

Bird bath art on the farm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

I circle back to the conversation circle, passing a bird bath with a trio of ballet dancers centering that circle. They are graceful and beautiful and seemingly out of place in this rural setting. Yet, they are not. The countryside overflows with grace and beauty. The grace of silence and solitude. And the beauty of the natural world.

On this day, I need this. To be in the serenity of this quiet place. To take in the countryside. To see the sky, the trees, the land. To talk with Barb and Bob. And then to leave with a clutch of rhubarb and the promise of warm rhubarb crisp pulled from the oven.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Becoming Wonder Women… May 30, 2023

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A coloring and activity book discovery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2023)

WHEN I WAS COMING OF AGE, women’s voices were growing louder, stronger as part of the women’s liberation movement. Women of the 60s and 70s sought equal opportunities and rights in society, in the workplace, in life in general.

I myself became the first female to join the Future Farmers of America chapter at Wabasso High School in the early 1970s. You can bet the boys eyed me with suspicion, wondered what business a girl had in a club that, up until then, was exclusive to males. But I didn’t care what they thought.

Obviously, I never went on to become a farmer, to marry a farmer or work in an ag-related field. But I covered agriculture while freelancing and also working for several rural weekly and daily newspapers. My FFA involvement, but mostly my farm background, proved useful in writing news stories and features.

And then there was the fact that I was a female journalist. That did not sit well with everyone in the small Minnesota town where I worked right out of college. I was opening disdained by more than one school and city official who preferred I not report on controversial topics. While their demeaning behavior and negative attitudes frustrated me, that did not deter me from covering public meetings and reporting what was said. I had an editor and publisher who backed me up. He knew I was just doing my job and doing it well and that no angry man would stop me.

Thankfully, attitudes toward women have improved through the years, personally and professionally. Not to say change is not yet needed. But women are generally treated better than decades ago. I doubt a public employee or elected official today would treat a female journalist the way I was in the late 70s and early 80s without repercussions. And I doubt high school boys would get away with openly questioning why a girl could join FFA.

This all provides the backstory to a recent discovery. I was waiting at my local community bank to do business when I noticed a handful of coloring books racked in a holder. I pulled out a Justice League Jumbo Coloring & Activity Book and flipped through the pages. And when I happened upon the FINISH THE PICTURE Draw the other half of Superman™, I nearly shouted, “YES!” Instead of drawing Superman as instructed, someone (a woman or girl, I expect) drew Wonder Woman.

As a woman, I felt such validation in that moment. Yes, women can be superheroes, too. Yes, women can break away and out and above and beyond and decide, no, I’m not drawing the other half of Superman. I’m drawing me—a strong woman.

THOUGHTS?

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

When you can’t get rid of a mattress & box spring because… May 27, 2023

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A full-size mattress and box spring fill the back of our van. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

MONDAY EVENING RANDY AND I crammed a full-size used mattress and box spring into the back of our van. It was not an easy task, but we squeezed both inside. We intended to drop the worn out set off at the Rice County Landfill the next day upon our return from a medical appointment in Northfield. Sometimes, though, plans go awry.

En route to Northfield early Tuesday morning, we noticed smoke billowing in the distance. Randy said he’d seen the same smoke on Monday, but much thicker, blacker. Burning tires type of smoke. The closer we got to Northfield, the denser the smoke, enough to warrant turning on the headlights. Smoke settled like fog upon the landscape. The air smelled putrid.

Before we left Northfield, we learned the fire was at the county landfill, a blaze which began Monday evening among all that trash. Still, we were hopeful we could drop off the mattress and box spring. What were we thinking? Randy turned the van off Minnesota State Highway 3 onto the road leading to the landfill. There a portable electronic sign flashed that the landfill was closed to the public and open to licensed haulers only.

So here we are, many days later, driving around with an old mattress and box spring filling the bulk of our van. The latest update from the county states that the landfill will remain closed to non-licensed haulers at least through Monday. There are health and environmental concerns related to the still smoldering (maybe still burning) garbage. I appreciate that local and state officials are monitoring, testing, protecting.

For county residents like us who need to get rid of household items, county officials have now provided a list of local licensed garbage haulers who are accepting things like mattresses and box springs. I called two haulers. One quoted me a price of $65, the other $70 for each piece. So we’re talking $130-$140, a price we don’t want to pay.

I then checked the county landfill website for disposal pricing. There are three options: $25 for each piece if they’re recyclable. What makes a mattress and box spring recyclable? I have no idea. Next, $35/each with prior permission. Finally $55/each without prior permission. Permission from whom? And why is prior permission needed? I appreciate clarity. (And I thought to myself, no wonder people dump mattresses and box springs in ditches if disposals costs range from $50-$110.)

What also remains unclear are how long the fire will burn/smolder, how the environment and air quality have been impacted, and how the health of anyone who’s breathed in that smoke has been affected. Randy and I traveled through that smoke, breathed it in on our drive to and from and during our time in Northfield.

And we live only eight miles from the landfill, which was near enough for that smoke to drift…and we did close the windows in our house Thursday evening because of a putrid odor. Was the smell from the landfill fire? I don’t know. As for that bed set, it’s still stuffed in the back of the van.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

No lions or tigers, but bears, oh, my May 26, 2023

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A fox climbs the wooded hillside behind our garage in January 2018. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo January 2018)

YEARS AGO, A VARIETY OF WILDLIFE frequented the wooded hillside behind our garage and spilled over into our and our next-door neighbors’ yards. Raccoons, woodchucks, opossums, skunks, even a fox once, and evidence of deer in tracks left behind. Such sightings were not unusual, even though we live in the heart of Faribault along an arterial street. But the Straight River runs only a few blocks away and our property edges Wapacuta Park atop the hill. Both make for inviting wildlife habitat. That doesn’t explain, though, why we no longer see an assortment of animals.

Deer in their natural habitat at River Bend Nature Center in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2022)

Now only squirrels and rabbits scamper through the woods and yard, along with voles and the mice I never see but which occasionally find a route into the basement of our aged house. (Within the past week, though, I’ve found two dead mice in our backyard. What’s with that?) Feral cats sometimes wander our corner lot, too. I expect other animals may roam my neighborhood in the cover of dark. I’ve heard coyotes howling while attending an evening concert at River Bend Nature Center in Faribault and while visiting friends just outside of town.

The only bears I’ve seen in southern Minnesota are dead ones, including this one for sale at a seasonal sale in rural Medford several years back. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

One wild animal I haven’t seen yet is a black bear. Typically, they don’t venture this far south from their northern Minnesota habitat. But that has changed in recent years. In late April, bear sightings were reported twice in my county of Rice. The first report came at 2:30 pm on April 26 and the second on April 28 at 9:33 pm, according to a bear sighting map published by the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources. Around that time Northfield police issued an alert about a bear and warned residents to keep their trash and bird feeders inside. I haven’t heard anything official about that bear since then.

Earlier, a bear and three cubs were spotted in Steele County, the county just to the south of Rice. That was at 2:12 am on March 7. A solo bear doesn’t seem nearly as frightening as a mama with babies. Just like human moms, the instinct is strong to protect one’s young.

As I studied the DNR bear reporting map, I was surprised to see so many sightings in the Twin Cities area, primarily in the north metro. Admittedly a higher density population may lead to more reports. Still. Olmsted, Mower and Winona counties to the southeast of Rice County also had numerous bear sightings. Winona County, especially, with many wooded areas and along the Mississippi River, seems a place where bears would feel right at home.

Up North at the cabin, surrounded by woods and water, a natural environment for bears. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2021)

When we stay at an extended family member’s lake cabin in the Brainerd lakes area of central Minnesota during the summer, we are bear aware. No leaving garbage outside, no doing anything that will draw bears in from the surrounding woods. We understand we are in their habitat.

But here in southern Minnesota, primarily among corn and soybean fields, I don’t expect bears. Yet, I suppose they didn’t expect humans to wander into their homeland either, among the lakes and forests of central and northern Minnesota.

TELL ME: What wild animals have you spotted in and around your home? I’d like to hear, whether you live in Rice County or elsewhere.

CLICK HERE to see photos of a bear that wandered onto an Up North Minnesota blogger’s porch recently.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Memorial Day remembrances & reflections May 25, 2023

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A soldier sculpture centers the Northfield Area Veterans Memorial. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

HIS STRONG STANCE, one boot planted in front of the other, ramrod posture all point to his disciplined military training. I am looking at a sculpture of a US soldier, a combat infantryman. As I study him, I gaze into his haunted eyes, eyes that, by my perception, reveal the horrors of war.

Standing strong in service to country, a life-size soldier replica. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Perhaps it is my own father’s stories of fighting on the front-line during the Korean War that shape my reaction to this soldier replica at the Northfield Area Veterans Memorial. But this could be anyone’s interpretation. That of a daughter, like me, whose father suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after leaving the killing fields of Korea. Or this could be the story of any active duty war veteran, the story of a spouse or child who lost a loved one on the battlefield, the stories of too many.

My dad took this photo of his buddies, including Ray Scheibe, left, in Korea. The photo is dated May 1953. Ray was killed in June. (Copyrighted photo by Elvern Kletscher)

This Memorial Day, I pause to remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice—their lives—to assure my freedom. My dad’s Army buddy and friend Ray was among those. Ray died the day before he was to leave Korea and return to his wife and infant daughter in Nebraska. My father witnessed Ray’s death and it broke a part of him.

Honoring fallen soldiers with a special monument at the Rice County Veterans Memorial in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

These are the personal details we need to remember on Monday, a national day of mourning and remembrance for those who died on the battlefield. Veterans’ memorials and parades and programs all provide ways to honor the brave men and women who died in service to country. But their stories are equally as important. These are, after all, individuals with friends and families, likes and dislikes, histories written long before they were drafted or enlisted and then called to war.

“The Walk of Remembrance” imprinted with veterans’ names and military information edges the Northfield Area Veterans Memorial. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)
A paver at the Rice County Veterans Memorial honors Sgt Donald E. Ponto, killed in action in Korea. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
A full view of the Northfield Area Veterans Memorial. The stones represent each branch of the military. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Many Minnesota communities have veterans’ memorials. While designs differ, they share the commonalities of a centerpiece sculpture, sometimes a soldier or an eagle or some other strong symbol; pavers with veterans’ names imprinted; American and other flags; and ways to recognize all branches of the military. It is the names, accompanied by the initials KIA, which break my heart. KILLED IN ACTION. I recognize the intense pain and heartbreak experienced by loved ones back home. The grieving families. The Gold Star Mothers, a mother who lost a child in service to country. The fatherless children, like Teri, the infant daughter of my dad’s buddy, Ray. Overwhelming grief imprints upon those stone pavers.

An eagle at Veterans Memorial Park in Morristown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

This Memorial Day, I encourage you to reflect on the war dead whom we honor on Monday. Walk through a cemetery and pause at the graves marked by small American flags. Attend a Memorial Day program not out of a sense of obligation, but out of gratitude. I feel thankful for a free press. Not every country has such freedom.

My dad carried this memorial service bulletin home to Minnesota from Korea. In the right column is listed the name of his fallen buddy, Raymond W. Scheibe. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Spend time at a veterans’ memorial beyond a precursory walk through. Appreciate the words, the names, the symbols, the artwork. And, if a soldier sculpture centers the memorial, look into his eyes and remember this biblical quote pulled from the memorial service folder my dad carried home from Korea: Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends (John 15:13).

Fitting words engraved in stone at the Northfield Area Veterans Memorial. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

That July 31, 1953, service folder from Sucham-dong Korea lists 28 soldiers who died on the battlefield, among them my dad’s beloved buddy, Raymond W. Scheibe, age 22. It is my dad’s grief and trauma I see when I gaze into the eyes of that soldier sculpture in Northfield. War carries so much death and loss and pain. I vicariously understand that. This Memorial Day I remember, reflect, honor, carry on my heart the heaviness of war.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

“So much snow,” yup, that’s winter in Minnesota May 23, 2023

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Our three snow removal shovels. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo December 2021)

DISCLAIMER: If you don’t want to read the words snow or winter, then stop reading. This is a post about both. But also about spring. And a book.

Three prompts led me to write on this seasonal topic. First, when I was scanning my mom’s journals recently, I came across a May 11, 1966, entry in which she wrote, “Snow on the ground.” This didn’t surprise me. Occasionally snow falls in southern Minnesota in May. While I don’t recall the 1966 snow Mom references, I do remember driving back from my native prairie once on Memorial Day weekend to see snow atop a car in New Ulm. That would be at the end of May.

Secondly, a few weeks ago, Randy asked whether he should put the snow shovels away. I encouraged him to wait. And he did, until he felt confident the possibility of snow had passed. It has. I hope.

Finally, a new children’s picture book, So Much Snow by Minnesotan Kristen Schroeder, prompted this post. The book recently won the 2023 Minnesota Book Award in children’s literature. It’s as if Schroeder had the winter of 2022-2023 in mind when she penned this story. This past winter proved among our snowiest ever in Minnesota. The winter we thought would never end.

With minimal words per page, Schroeder writes the story of a week-long snowfall. Day after day after day the snow piles high around a menagerie of animals. Rabbit, fox, bear, moose… Illustrator Sarah Jacoby’s art has a dreamy, soft quality, just like the falling snow. That both artist (from Pittsburgh) and author understand winter is clear in their work.

Eventually, the sun shines, the snow melts, the grass greens. And spring, so it seems, has arrived. But then, a last page surprise. You can probably guess what that may be. It happens here in Minnesota seemingly every year. Just when we think winter has ended…

FYI: To read a short interview with Kristen Schroeder, click here.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Love in a bouquet of lilacs May 18, 2023

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Wisconsin lilacs from Randy. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

IN 41 YEARS OF MARRIAGE, Randy and I have always been together on our wedding anniversary. But this May 15, he was 583 miles away in Lafayette, Indiana. Monday didn’t feel at all like a celebratory day with my husband gone. But I understood. He left southern Minnesota on Friday to attend our son’s graduation with a master’s of science degree from Purdue University. My vestibular neuronitis symptoms made travel and attending the Sunday evening commencement unmanageable. This was one of those moments in life when I experienced profound disappointment.

And so our anniversary passed on Monday with a phone call and loving text messages exchanged. I knew Randy would be home the next day, which was a gift in itself.

When he rolled into the driveway at 1:15 pm Tuesday after an overnight stay with our daughter and her husband in Madison, Wisconsin, my heart filled with gratitude for his safe return and overflowed with love in his presence. One long embrace later, and we were unpacking the van.

And then Randy said, “I have one more thing.” This dear dear husband of mine reached into the back of the van and pulled out a bouquet of lilacs. I stood there, overwhelmed with emotion at his thoughtfulness. I cried. We embraced again. Each May Randy cuts a bouquet of lilacs (usually at a city park) and brings them home to me. It’s part of our history, our story.

This May that story began in Madison, 271 miles to the southeast of Faribault, about a half-way point to Lafayette. When Randy stayed with Miranda and John en route to Indiana, he noticed lilacs blooming on the next-door neighbor’s bush. So on the return trip and his second overnight stay, he remembered those lilacs, asked for permission to take some and then cut two generous branches. John found a vase. Randy added water and then the lovely lilacs.

Some 4.5 hours later, Randy was pulling that clutch of lilacs from the van. I smashed the woody ends with a hammer for better water intake, added more water to the vase and then set the bouquet on a vintage chest of drawers. Soon the heady scent perfumed our living room.

Now each time I pass those lilacs, breathe in their intoxicating sweetness, I think of my dear dear husband. I think of his love for me and me for him. And I think of how something as seemingly simple as a bouquet of lilacs gathered in a Madison yard bring me such joy. Randy’s unexpected gift compensated for his absence on our 41st wedding anniversary. I feel so loved and cherished.

Thank you, Randy, for your thoughtfulness and love.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

About greeting cards & why I value them May 17, 2023

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Among the many retirement cards Randy recently received. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

I’M OLD SCHOOL. I like to give and receive greeting cards. Why? It’s personal. Much more personal than anything sent electronically.

All of the cards in this boxed set are verses I wrote. (Source: Warner Christian Resources)

I also happen to write freelance greeting card verses for a faith-based publishing company in Anderson, Indiana. I’ve done that for years, so long I can’t recall when I started. But I appreciate that Warner Christian Resources (formerly Warner Press) prints the writer’s name on the back of each card. Currently, all the cards in the boxed set, “Sympathy—Classic Condolences,” are printed with verses I penned. Order a box of these 12 cards, four designs (click here), and you’ll read my verses and see my name on the backs of the cards. I have one other card in a 2023 get well collection.

Typically I sell a handful of verses during each annual submission period. So while not particularly lucrative, writing greeting card verses for Warner challenges me. It’s not easy coming up with new ways of delivering a message. Kind of like writing poetry, every creative word counts.

Now back to greeting cards in general. I value them. They require time to choose or craft. They require putting pen to paper to sign and/or add a personal note. They require a stop at the post office or a mailbox if mailed. In other words, greeting cards take time and effort to send or give. And to me, that says something. That someone is thinking about me or I of them. That they care, that I care.

A downward view of some of Randy’s retirement cards. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Recently, we’ve received an influx of greeting cards, starting with congratulatory wishes for Randy upon his recent retirement (well, sort of retirement as he eases into it by working fewer days each week). When I posted about his retirement, I encouraged you, my readers, to send cards. The many greetings that filled our mailbox humbled us. For Randy to receive cards from blog followers who took the time to choose or craft, sign and send greetings shows me what kind and caring hearts you have. Thank you.

My friend Valerie colored this postcard for me and wrote a get well message on the back. She knows how much I like to hang laundry on the line and how I colored when my vestibular symptoms were the worst. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Recently, I’ve also received get well cards as I deal with the difficult symptoms of vestibular neuronitis. Anyone who’s ever faced a health challenge understands just how much a card means when you’re not feeling well. Such cards uplift, encourage, show that someone cares about how you’re doing, how you’re feeling. I understand that and try to always mail cards to friends and family who need encouragement.

Lastly, Randy and I celebrated our 41st wedding anniversary on Monday. We’ve received a few cards. Early on in our marriage, we got lots of anniversary cards every May. Now? Not many. Maybe after you’ve been married for as long as us, the thought is not even there to send a card. I have a sister-in-law who considered it weird that I would mail an anniversary card to her and her husband. No matter her opinion, I still send them a card each year.

How about you? Are you old school like me and still appreciate greeting cards? Do you send them, receive them? Or do you prefer to convey wishes in another way, or not at all? I’d like to hear.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Reflections on commencement from the mom of a postgraduate grad May 16, 2023

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An edited computer screen image of students about to graduate Sunday evening from Purdue University. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

“YOU ARE READY and the world needs you….The world needs your energy and talents.” Versions of those statements are likely being repeated by keynote speakers during college commencements across the country. Sunday evening, Kathleen Howell, professor of Aeronautics and Astronautics at Purdue University, delivered those words to master’s and doctor of philosophy students receiving their diplomas, my son among them.

Purdue’s Boilermaker mascot was on-site for weekend commencement ceremonies. (Photo credit: Randy Helbling)

From hundreds of miles away in southern Minnesota, I watched livestreaming of the lengthy ceremony. My vestibular neuronitis symptoms prevented me from making the long trip to Indiana. But Randy was there, sitting in packed Elliott Hall of Music for hours waiting to see Caleb walk across the stage to accept his master’s diploma.

Purdue’s college president, left, and other staff filled the stage Sunday evening in this computer screen photo. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

As speakers go, Howell did a stellar job of addressing graduates, reflecting on their time at Purdue and the future. And I’m not just saying that. I’ve attended college commencements thrice through the years and have heard some not so good speakers, especially the Wisconsin politician who apparently thought he was at a campaign rally rather than a university graduation.

The rising moon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

But back to West Lafayette, Indiana, and that speech by Howell. She shaped her address around a quote from President John F. Kennedy’s “moon speech,” quite appropriate given her area of expertise and involvement with the space program. In his talk about space exploration at Rice University in Houston, Texas, in September 1962, JFK said, “We chose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard.”

Graduates, families and friends gather pre-commencement at Purdue Sunday evening. (Photo credit: Randy Helbling)

Howell took that quote and expanded, suggesting grads reflect on what they’ve learned and the lessons they’ve learned. How they’ve chosen the things that are hard, pushed through hard times, modified their paths, come out stronger and more resilient. Her words, I expect resonated with many. They did with me as a parent. Howell encouraged the new degree-holders to trust themselves, to always recognize that not everything is accomplished alone. I appreciated her specific acknowledgment of those who supported, continue to support, these new graduates.

All in all, Howell’s keynote address was upbeat, uplifting, encouraging. I never once just wanted her speech to end so the ceremony could proceed. But when it did and doctorate candidates began the process of being “hooded,” I admittedly grew impatient.

Caleb, pre-commencement. (Photo credit: Randy Helbling)

Eventually, Caleb walked across the stage and I found myself overcome with emotion. He’d worked hard, met challenges to reach this point and I felt incredibly proud and grateful and many other feelings rolled into that moment. Howell’s speech caused me to reflect on Caleb as a little boy and his interest in space, not space travel as much as the solar system. He even had a star chart. His star, though, shines not in the skies, but in computer science. Caleb will be among those Purdue students who go on to create technological advancements. He’s already off to a good start with his undergrad accomplishments, independent research and work experience in the years between earning his bachelor’s (from Tufts University) and master’s degrees.

For all those parents who are watching their “kids” graduate, this is your moment, too. As Professor Howell said, none of us can do this alone. Not us. Not these new graduates. And especially not the first men on the moon.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Connecting with my new neighbors via “Amazing Africa: A to Z” May 15, 2023

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(Book cover credit: Artika Tyner’s website)

BUSY PATTERNS. Bold hues. Strong images and words. All define Amazing Africa: A to Z, a children’s picture book co-authored by Minnesotan Dr. Artika Tyner and Ghanaian Monica Habia and illustrated by Reyhana Ismail of the UK.

Somalians are very much a part of the Faribault community, photographed here at a Downtown Car Cruise Night. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

For a community like mine, with a sizable Somali population, this book proves a natural draw. I always appreciate learning more about my new Faribault neighbors from the east African country of Somalia. The more we know about each other, the more comfortable and connected we feel. Disconnect and conflict often arise from lack of knowledge, fear of the unknown and differences. Differences in dress, food, language, culture, faith.

Nigerian-themed quilt art by my friend Susan Griebel. The fabric is from the collection of her mother-in-law, Margaret Griebel. Margaret’s husband was a Lutheran missionary in Nigeria, where the family lived. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

This book bridges differences via facts and art that carries a signature African style of intense patterns and colors. With every new bit of information, with every turn of the page, I feel more and more connected to this continent of 54 countries. For example, the word hospitality, chosen to represent the letter “H” in this alphabet book, strikes me as exactly what I hope for in Faribault. Africans believe no one is an island; rather everyone is part of the community, the text reads in part. Two clasped hands visually reinforce that belief.

Lul Abdi shows off beautiful wood crafts from Kenya and Somalia at a past International Festival Faribault (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Events like the Faribault Diversity Coalition’s summer International Festival Faribault and now occasional public talks by immigrants and others are ways we join hands and grow community. I’ve seen the art of my neighbors from Africa. I’ve heard the music, tasted the sambusa, admired colorful clothing… Faribault’s newest residents add a depth and richness to my southern Minnesota city.

A sign posted in a downtown Faribault business storefront window several years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Consider African proverbs, chosen in Amazing Africa: A to Z to represent the letter “P.” These wise sayings span cultures. The authors include this powerful Swahili proverb, among several, at the end of the book: “Unity is strength, division is weakness.” If only we all read and take those words to heart. I firmly believe that we, as individuals and as community, need to be here for one another. We truly are stronger when not divided.

A sign lists Somali food sold at a past International Festival Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

As I read of 1,000 languages spoken throughout Africa, I think of the Somalians now living in my community. Many have overcome war, poverty and other unimaginable challenges to settle in Minnesota. And now they must also overcome language barriers and resentment. If only we would all pause for a moment and remember that, for most of us Minnesotans, English was not the native tongue of our immigrant forefathers. Mine spoke German. Others spoke Norwegian, French, Dutch…

A wood sculpture from Africa, artist unknown, and titled “Seated Maternity Figure.” Exhibited at St. Olaf College, Northfield, in 2015. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2015)

I certainly can’t pronounce all of the words published in this book about Africa. Words like Uhuru, Yamoussoukro, Ugali and more. But I can appreciate the beauty of language, the way these words speak the rhythm of the continent of Africa.

Bisa Butler inspired art created by fourth grader Ilwad and exhibited at a Student Art Show in Faribault. Butler is an award-winning African American textile artist. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo March 2023)

Africa is the story of slavery, of dancing, of the world’s largest waterfall, of greatness, of so much richness and depth. You’ll find that, see that, read that in Amazing Africa: A to Z.

FYI: Dr. Artika Tyner, co-author of this book (and many others) and also a motivational speaker, educator and attorney, will speak on her journey towards justice from 6-7 pm Tuesday, May 16, at Buckham Memorial Library, Faribault. She is part of the Southeastern Libraries Cooperating 2023 Minnesota Author Tour. In her work, she focuses on racial and economic justice and social change. Tyner founded the nonprofit, Planting People Growing Justice Leadership Institute.

I previously reviewed Tyner’s children’s book, Justice Makes a Difference—The Story of Miss Freedom Fighter, Esquire. To read that book review, click here.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling