AS A LIFE-LONG MINNESOTAN, I speak Minnesotan. It’s hotdish, not casserole. Pop, not soda. Bars may be a sweet treat baked in a cake pan and cut into squares or a place to imbibe. And when someone is going Up North, it’s not to Canada, but typically to the cabin in the Brainerd lakes area or thereabouts.
I’m proud to be rooted in this state many consider fly-over land. On a road trip to the East Coast a few years back, folks, upon learning I was from Minnesota, reacted, “Oh, it’s cold and snowy there.” I’m just fine with non-residents thinking that. It is cold for much of the year. And it is snowy, too, most winters. But we have four distinct seasons to be appreciated in a state that is geographically diverse. Prairie. Woods. Bluffs. Rolling land. Farm fields. Cliffs that rise above the Mississippi River and Lake Superior. Wilderness. Lakes numbering 10,000-plus. All inside our spacious borders.
And outside “The Cities,” as we term the twin cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul, away from metro lights, the night sky is dark, expansive and filled with more stars than you can imagine. Sky and land defined my childhood home on the vast prairie of southwestern Minnesota. But even here in southeastern Minnesota, the sky is big as noted by a Boston visitor. She saw the Minnesota night sky for the first time as we drove her to Faribault from the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. The infinite number of stars impressed her. Northern lights (the aurora borealis), which I have yet to see, are also an attraction.
If I sound like I work for the Minnesota Department of Tourism, I don’t. That job falls to legendary lumberjack Paul Bunyan, unofficial tourism CEO. Clad in his signature buffalo plaid flannel, he is easily recognizable, much-loved and a trendsetter in fashion in the North Star State. I would venture to guess that nearly every Minnesotan owns a collection of flannel shirts. They are my go-to winter attire.
Did I mention that we don’t speak Fargo, even if that North Dakota city sits across the Red River from Moorhead, Minnesota? I’ve been told we drag out the “o” sound in a distinctly Minnesoooootan sound. Could be. I don’t necessarily hear it. I don’t deny, though, that we are obsessed about the weather. Conversations within our borders usually include one weather reference whether it be wind chill or humidity or “hot enough for you?”.
Minnesotans are known for a thing called “Minnesota Nice,” which I like to believe is true most of the time. We are a bit reserved, use phrases like “that’s different” or “that’s interesting” when we really don’t like something or disagree, but want to be nice by holding back our honest thoughts.
Our goodbyes are prolonged. Often, as visiting family is leaving my home, I find myself either standing in the driveway or window waving, waving, waving. That follows the hugs I’ve given only minutes earlier. You can’t get in too many goodbye waves.
Meat raffles, potlucks, ice fishing, lutefisk dinners (or suppers, depending on time of day), fish fries, snowmobile races, hockey, naming our snowplows, all are part of Minnesota culture. Even wood tick races (at the Woodtick Inn in Cuyuna).
I love this state where I’ve lived my entire life, even when I complain about the long winters and abundance of mosquitoes. This is home. Always has been. Always will be.
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IF YOU HAVE any questions about Minnesota, any observations, anything you want to share, please do. Just follow the rules of “Minnesota Nice.”
© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
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