AS A WRITER, I’m drawn to words. Perhaps that’s why I appreciate signs, slogans, even interesting messages on t-shirts such as “I put ketchup on my ketchup.” I spotted a guy in Faribault recently wearing a ketchup tee and told him I liked his shirt. I appreciated the humor. It was his second compliment of the day, he said. I’m not surprised given an American obsession with the condiment. I mean, my older brother squirted ketchup on his potatoes when we were kids. And most people can’t eat fries without ketchup. I can.
Then there’s the t-shirt I saw for sale earlier this year at a Czech celebration in Montgomery. In white letters on black fabric, the noun, Czech girl, was defined “like a normal girl but cooler.” I guess I will never be Czech cool since my heritage is German.
Nor will I hold Bohemian power or pride as printed on two buttons worn by a man in traditional Czech attire at the same Montgomery event. He was in the right place, Minnesota’s Czech triangle, to be sporting those ethnic-proud buttons.
But I saw one identifier in Montgomery that proved relatable. And that was “Hope Dealer” displayed on a downtown storefront window. Hope happens to be one of my favorite words, one I’ve leaned into often during challenging times in my life. There’s nothing quite like hope to focus thoughts on difficult days. In Montgomery, “Hope Dealer” marks a substance abuse treatment center, which offers hope to those who walk through the door. The noun applies to me when I offer hope to someone who needs to be uplifted, encouraged and supported, maybe even inspired.
Sometimes superheroes inspire as seen on a flashy purple car parked at a downtown Faribault Car Cruise Night this summer. Captain Marvel themed the car. The Minnesota license plate, CPTMRVL, did not escape my notice. This car owner clearly identifies with the positive superhuman powers of Captain Marvel.
Over in Northfield at Makeshift Accessories, a home-grown shop featuring art crafted from primarily recycled materials, I found a sign that fits me—MN G1RL. It’s made from Minnesota license plate letters and a single number cobbled together. The rustic look appeals to me. But mostly, it’s the words I appreciate. I am a life-long Minnesota girl. If I were to define MN G1RL, I’d write “like a normal girl but stronger.” You’ve got to be strong to survive our long, harsh winters (although they are not as long and harsh as they once were).
Whether you’re from Minnesota or elsewhere matters not. Whether you’re into superheroes or not doesn’t matter to me. Whether you’re Bohemian or German or some other ethnicity matters not either. Whether you douse everything in ketchup or not, I don’t care.
But it does matter to me that you hold hope. It matters to me that you can read that singular word and feel the optimism it carries. You can carry hope in your heart. And you can dispense hope within your community through your words and actions. While you do that, notice the signs, slogans and interesting messages that surround you, that are part of everyday life wherever you live. Words matter. So says this southern Minnesota writer.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Hearing, listening & the drone of war August 14, 2025
Tags: Alaska, commentary, hearing, listening, listening exercise, meeting, news, President Donald Trump, President Vladimir Putin, Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, war
IF I LISTEN CLOSELY, I can hear the incessant chirp of crickets beneath the steady drone of traffic rushing past my house. I live along a busy street, where noise is a constant except in the deep hours of the night. Even then, though, the lone blare of a siren may pierce the night silence, enough to awaken me.
I hear lots of sounds. But that’s not the same as listening. There’s a difference. Hearing is simply taking in sound waves. But listening requires intentional focus. Not only physically hearing, but also paying attention, picking up on verbal and non-verbal cues, remaining quiet.
Many of us are not particularly good at listening. It requires discipline, silence and an understanding that whatever we hear holds significance. Chirping crickets signal the end of summer. Screeching sirens indicate an emergency. And when someone is speaking to me, it means they have something to say. And I need to listen.
I consider myself to be a pretty good listener. As a journalist, I really honed my listening skills, a necessity in covering any news story, doing any interview. And on a personal level, I’ve always been more interested in what others are saying than in hearing my own voice.
Therein lies the problem. Too many of us like the sound of our own voices. If someone starts sharing their own story, their own challenges, we tend to interject our own stories. That’s when a push “pause” seems appropriate. Our listening skills need to kick in as we clamp our lips in silence and remember that the conversation is not about us.
So all of this leads me to the meeting between President Donald Trump and Russian President Vladimir Putin on Friday in Anchorage, Alaska, to discuss the war in Ukraine. Noticeably absent will be Ukrainian leader Volodymyr Zelenskyy. Now you’d think, given the war is raging in Ukraine, that Zelenskyy should be at the table. He asked to be there. But, if the two other leaders heard, they didn’t listen. A pre-meeting conversation between Trump and Zelenskyy isn’t the same as including the Ukrainian president in the summit.
From all accounts, the Trump administration is now billing Friday’s meeting as a “listening exercise.” I find that to be an interesting choice of words. I can’t imagine that either Trump or Putin will really be “listening,” based on past meetings between the two and observations I’ve made about them. But, hey, maybe this time they really will hear the crickets chirping above the drone of war, the blaring of sirens.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling