Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Exploring historic Oak Ridge, more than just a cemetery June 15, 2023

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Sign on the Oak Ridge Cemetery limestone crypt. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

THEY ARE PLACES of sorrow, of history, of art, of beauty. Of stories, too. They are cemeteries.

Trees fill the historic Oak Ridge Cemetery in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Decades ago, as a child, I feared cemeteries, thinking about the bodies buried in caskets beneath the ground. The unexpected death of my paternal grandfather when I was not quite eight shaped my thoughts then of graveyards. But my thinking and perspectives changed as I aged until I felt comfortable walking in a cemetery. I had accepted death.

The natural beauty of Oak Ridge, especially the oaks, is one of the things I most appreciate. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Today, exploring cemeteries is an activity I enjoy. I appreciate all they hold. Oak Ridge Cemetery, set on rolling hills on Faribault’s northwest side just off Second Avenue NW/Minnesota State Highway 3, is among the countless graveyards I’ve walked.

An informational sign about Levi Nutting. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

It’s Faribault’s first cemetery, incorporated in 1857, five years after the town was founded. The death of his 26-year-old wife, Mary, on Christmas Day 1856 prompted Levi Nutting to lead founding of an official cemetery. Nutting was a man of prominence. As an early area settler, he helped shape his community, serving as mayor and Rice County commissioner. Nutting also held several state government offices, including that of a senator.

Nutting family grave markers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Levi and many other Nuttings lie buried beneath the soil at Oak Ridge among the oaks and spruce and maple. This place feels like a hilltop island of peacefulness. Not that it’s quiet here. But a sense of calm and serenity in this spot of remarkable natural beauty prevails.

(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

History also infuses Oak Ridge, not only in names on gravestones, but also on informational plaques scattered throughout the grounds.

The burial spot of a Civil War veteran, flagged for Memorial Day. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)
Civil War veteran Michael Cook’s marker details his death. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

There are a whole lot of long ago dates inscribed in stone. The first known burial here was in 1850, before cemetery incorporation. Men who fought in the Civil and Spanish American Wars lie here. So do legislators, business leaders, farmers, paupers, immigrants and more, according to the Oak Ridge website.

Loving words on a husband and wife’s tombstone. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

“IN THEIR DEATH THEY WERE NOT DIVIDED” reads the message on the headstone of Rodney A. Mott and Mary Ripley Mott.

Markers like this can be purchased for unmarked graves. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Hannah Jane Rockwell’s marker, installed through Oak Ridge’s Sponsor a Marker for an Unmarked Grave Program, simply lists her name, birth and death dates, and then the loving words, “Mother to 10.”

A message written in a notebook at Jeremy’s grave. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Jeremy J. Weber’s black tombstone, still shiny with newness, is surrounded by expressions of recent grief. The 34-year-old father of three died in 2021. A waterproof case includes a notebook for messages and memories. Words written therein are loving, heartbreaking.

Beautiful urn art graces a grave. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Grief is undeniably here. I read that, see that, feel that. But I also feel the love. These were individuals with families who loved them and whom they loved. These were individuals who were valued personally and/or professionally. They were, above all, human beings who held a special place on this earth.

Fitting for Oak Ridge, oak leaves on a tombstone. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

Cemeteries reveal all of this, if only we take the time to walk among the tombstones, aged and new. Inscriptions, art, names, dates, memorabilia and flowers placed graveside all tell stories. That is the beauty within the boundaries of a cemetery like Oak Ridge, which rises high above a city founded 171 years ago, the place where Levi Nutting moved with his family in 1855, a year later his young wife dead.

The historic limestone pumphouse sits atop the hill, in the heart of the cemetery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)
This map shows a section of Oak Ridge’s lay-out. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

FYI: Oak Ridge accepts donations and welcomes volunteers to help with cemetery upkeep. Burial plots are for sale. And markers may be purchased for unmarked graves.

 

Mary the tortoise goes missing June 13, 2023

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Missing tortoise poster. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

HOW DO YOU LOSE a tortoise? I don’t have the answer and didn’t call to ask. But on Faribault’s east side, Mary the tortoise has gone missing.

I spotted a sign recently for the disappearing reptile on the corner of Ravine Street and Sixth Avenue Northeast. I’ve seen many lost dog and cat posters in Faribault. But a tortoise? Never.

Of course, I instantly thought of the fable, “The Tortoise and the Hare,” in which the slow-moving but determined tortoise wins the race against the confident, boastful rabbit. While the hare naps, the tortoise keeps going. In the end, the loser realizes that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t have been so mocking of the tortoise. It’s a good lesson for anyone. It’s OK to be confident, but not at the expense of putting down others.

Back to tortoises. Many years ago, one showed up on our driveway on a summer afternoon. What a surprise. No one expects an errant tortoise on their property. A cat or dog, yes. But an over-sized reptile, no.

My brave brave second daughter scooped that tortoise up, despite my motherly warning not to do so (hey, I didn’t know how the reptile would react), and carried it back home across busy Willow Street. How our neighbor’s tortoise escaped and then safely crossed the street still baffles me.

Just like Mary. What happened to her? And where, oh where, has that not-so-little tortoise gone?

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

When a motorist loses control outside our house June 8, 2023

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Damage done to the boulevard. Our bedroom was in the direct path of an errant vehicle. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

THE SQUEAL OF TIRES, followed by thuds, disrupted our almost-asleep state of being Tuesday evening. “What was that?” I asked Randy. I was more curious than alarmed.

We live along a busy street in Faribault. Odd and loud noises are not uncommon. But, on a week night at 11 pm, this did seem out of the ordinary. Randy waited a bit, then rolled out of bed to check. Curiosity will always get you. He saw nothing except a torn-up patch of boulevard grass outside our bedroom window. No vehicle in sight.

I asked if we should call the police. “What would they do?” Randy asked. He was right. We had nothing to report except the sounds and the displaced patch of lawn. The vehicle was long gone.

Black marks on the pavement show how the vehicle veered out of the traffic lane toward and over the curb. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

Morning shed more light on the situation. Black tire tracks curved toward the curb next to the boulevard. It is likely accurate to assume that a driver was going too fast down Tower Place (the hilly side street by our corner lot) and lost control while turning onto Willow Street. Oops. Should have slowed down and stopped at the bottom of the hill. We’re just thankful he/she did not continue on, plowing into our bedroom.

If I was a forensic investigator, I could determine the make and model of the vehicle based on this part left behind on the damaged lawn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

This is not the first time we’ve dealt with vehicle-related issues on our property. A tire once fell off a car and rolled down the hill, slamming into the side of our house, just missing the gas meter and pipe. Other times vehicles have jumped the curb on icy streets. One landed half-way across our side yard, taking out the stop sign on the way.

Lawn litter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

While outside examining the lawn damage and tire tracks Wednesday morning, I happened upon a rectangular box tossed on the grass near the stop sign. It was an empty box once containing 2.0 grams of Sunset Sherbert hybrid distillate disposable vape. Pluto Labs, THE FUTURE OF CANNABIS, LIVE RESIN, the box read. I don’t pretend to know much about cannabis, except that the Minnesota legislature recently approved the use of recreational marijuana. But that doesn’t take effect until August 1.

Then I flipped the box to read that this was a SCHEDULED 1 CONTROLLED SUBSTANCE… THE INTOXICATING EFFECTS OF THIS PRODUCT MAY BE DELAYED UP TO TWO HOURS. THIS PRODUCT MAY IMPAIR THE ABILITY TO DRIVE OR OPERATE MACHINERY, PLEASE USE EXTREME CAUTION.

It made me wonder. Did the out-of-control driver toss this empty box from his/her vehicle just before rounding the corner and then slamming into and jumping the curb onto our lawn? The dots seem to connect.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Make way for goslings along the Cannon June 5, 2023

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A family of Canada geese emerge from the grass growing along the Cannon River in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

EACH SPRING I ANTICIPATE the appearance of newborn ducks and geese in the wild. There’s something about these waterfowl that appeals to me. Perhaps it’s the cuteness factor. Or maybe it’s the reassurance that, despite the ever-changing chaotic world, some things remain constant. Eggs hatch. Ducklings and goslings emerge. And the cycle of life continues.

I spotted adult mallard ducks, including these drakes and hen, but no ducklings. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

This year I was a bit late getting down to North Alexander Park in Faribault, a prime viewing spot along the Cannon River for an adaptation of Robert McCloskey’s children’s picture book, Make Way for Ducklings. The book won the Caldecott Medal in 1941 and is a beloved classic about a duck family in Boston.

Parent and baby gosling along the recreational trail in Faribault’s North Alexander Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

On the recent day I went duck and goose hunting with my camera here in Minnesota, far from Boston, I found only goslings. No ducklings. I approached with caution. I’ve learned from experience that Canada geese are aggressively protective of their young. I already hold childhood trauma from enduring vicious rooster attacks. I don’t need to add to that.

I kept my distance from the goose family, relying on my telephoto lens to take me closer. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

And so I watched and focused, thankful for my zoom lens which allowed getting close to the geese without getting close. The young ones appeared to be at teenage stage, rather than vulnerable baby stage. Thus my trust of even the youngest rated zero.

Determined goslings assert their independence. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)

I was fully aware that the geese were aware of my presence. People occasionally toss bread to waterfowl here (something I wish they wouldn’t do), so they may have expected a hand-out. Not from me. I was simply there to observe and document while dodging excrement, one of the hazards of stepping into a Robert McCloskey scene.

Despite the caution, despite the need to watch my step, I will continue to delight in this annual rite of spring which draws me to the banks of the Cannon River in southern Minnesota. Far from Boston.

© Copyright 2023 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

 

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

 

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

 

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