Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

“From Somalia to Snow” offers insights into our new Minnesota neighbors May 29, 2024

A welcoming sign photographed earlier this year in the children’s section of Buckham Memorial Library, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)

KNOWLEDGE IS POWER. Not in the sense of personal power, but in understanding. And I am always about growing my knowledge and understanding, especially within my community.

Faribault, like many neighboring communities, is culturally-diverse, home to immigrants, refugees and those who have received American citizenship. Somalis. Hispanics. Latinos. And others from countries that fit anything but the mostly White European backgrounds of rural Minnesotans. We are a state evolving in diversity, and I embrace that.

Hudda Ibrahim’s book offers an in-depth look at Somalis living in Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)

Recently I met a central Minnesota author who was in town as part of an event celebrating Somali culture at the Paradise Center for the Arts. Hudda Ibrahim of St. Cloud, which has a sizable Somali population, was selling her books, including From Somalia to Snow—How Central Minnesota Became Home to Somalis. Although I didn’t purchase her book then, I eventually checked it out through my regional library system. That and her nonfiction children’s picture book, What Color Is My Hijab?

Hudda Ibrahim’s children’s book inspires girls to be whatever they want to be via Ibrahim’s empowering words and Meenal Patel’s vivid art. (Book cover sourced online)

After reading those two books, I have better insights into the backgrounds, stories, culture and challenges of my new neighbors. Ibrahim writes with authenticity. She was born and raised in Africa (Somalia, Ethiopia and Kenya), came to the U.S. in 2006, teaches diversity and social justice in St. Cloud, and works closely with Somalis there. From Somalia to Snow includes interviews with Somalis in Ibrahim’s community along with her observations, insights and recommendations.

I quickly discovered that I had much to learn, even when it comes to understanding the basics. A person of Somali ethnicity is not a “Somalian,” as I’d incorrectly said, but rather a “Somali.” I appreciate that about Ibrahim’s writing. She doesn’t presume her readers know, making her book a really good source of basic, yet detailed and thorough, information.

I often see Somali men visiting in downtown Faribault, where many live. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)

I especially appreciated her chapter titled “Integration and Assimilation” because I’ve heard the comments from locals about how Somalis need to do this and that because they’re living in America now. Ibrahim states that Somalis prefer to “integrate,” not “assimilate.” That makes sense to me, that our new neighbors want to retain their cultural identity while also adapting to their new home. I think back to my own maternal ancestors who settled together near New Ulm in southern Minnesota and clung to their German identity, speaking in German, following customs and traditions from the Old Country. The same can be said for Scandinavians, who still eat lefse and lutefisk. Cultural identity is important to all of us.

So is family. Like my German ancestors settled together, so do those who come from Africa. They want to be near people who get them, understand them, share a language and faith and customs and culture. Jobs and family (clans) brought Somalis to St. Cloud, Ibrahim writes. Many work in meat-packing plants, just like in my community.

This sign for Somali food was posted at a past International Festival in Faribault. I especially like sambusa, a spicy, meat-filled triangular pastry. It was served at the recent Somali-focused event I attended. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Others have pursued higher education and entrepreneurship, opening businesses which serve primarily their community. I need only walk Faribault’s downtown business district to see numerous Somali-owned shops and restaurants. I love the color and culture they bring. And I love Somali tea, which I tried at that event where I met Ibrahim. It’s tea mixed with milk and spiced with cinnamon, ginger, cloves, cardamom… The scent is heavenly, the taste divine. And I can buy it locally.

Faribault is a culturally-diverse city, as seen in this image taken during a car show in downtown Faribault in 2015. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)

Ibrahim’s book is packed with insights: Somalis value oral communication over written. They are good oral poets. Restaurants often do not have printed menus, primarily because they serve Somalis. Muslims memorize the Quran (with 6,666 verses), a process that can take years. Socializing and community are important. Barriers remain in healthcare. There’s just a whole lot to learn via reading From Somalia to Snow. It starts with an overview of Somali history and then takes readers into the lives, cultures and challenges of Somalis living in Minnesota today. Thanks to Ibrahim’s writing, I now have a better understanding of my new neighbors. And for that I am grateful.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Regarding Ukraine March 9, 2022

A peace dove themes this painting on burlap by Mexican artist Jose Maria de Servin. I purchased this at a recycled art sale in Faribault perhaps 10 years ago. It is among my most-treasured pieces of art. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2022)

I’M STRUGGLING, really struggling, with the invasion of Ukraine by Russia and the resulting death, destruction and humanitarian crisis.

Deaths of civilians, documented in a powerful image of a mother, her teenage son, her elementary-age daughter and a family friend killed by Russian mortar fire. Lying dead in the street, luggage beside them, as they attempted to reach safety in Kyiv. Photojournalist Lynsey Addario witnessed the attack and photographed the scene for The New York Times. That published March 6 on the front page. In a television interview, I could see and hear Addario’s pain, her grief. She struggled to photograph the deadly scene, terming this killing of innocent civilians a “war crime,” which the world needed to see. I saw. I cried.

I’ve seen, too, media images of bombed homes and other buildings. Utter destruction. I cry.

And I cry, too, over the “humanitarian crisis,” the endless exit of refugees from this country under attack. I can’t even count how many times I’ve cried over scenes of young mothers wheeling suitcases with young children clinging to their hands. I imagine my own daughter doing the same with my two grandchildren and the idea of that shakes me to the core. To see children clutching their stuffed lovies or a mom spoon-feeding soup to her preschooler roadside or a soldier cradling a baby…it’s overwhelmingly sad.

I wonder why, this time, I’ve felt such angst, such concern, such grief. War has always wrought death, destruction and exodus. But this seems different in sheer numbers of individuals and families fleeing. This seems different in the depth of evil behind what is unfolding in Ukraine. This seems different in the worldwide implications. I write this in the context of my life-time.

I think, too, my husband’s connection to Ukraine, where his ancestors resettled from Germany to then Russia (current-day Ukraine), deepens my sorrow. His forefathers once farmed the land around Odessa before journeying to America and a new life in North Dakota.

In prayer…just as Mary is depicted praying in this statue at the Holy Trinity Catholic Church Grotto in Waterville, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2016)

My feelings now are mostly of concern, angst, helplessness. Yet, there are three actions I am taking. As a woman of faith, I pray. I pray for protection of the Ukrainian people, some by name (given to me by friends). I pray for their leader, President Volodymyr Zelensky, and other world leaders. I pray for peace. And more.

I am also supporting and encouraging friends worried about people in Ukraine. Family of family. Friends.

I purchased this vintage tray at an antique shop in St. Charles many years ago. It’s likely from the 60s or 70s. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2022)

And, finally, I’ve pulled out my “peace” art as a visual reminder. Coming of age in the 1960s and 1970s, at the time of the Vietnam War, the word “peace” played into my everyday vocabulary. The peace symbol was everywhere. On posters, jewelry, drawn in my spiral-bound notebooks. Today, more than ever, I need visual cues that peace is possible. I need hope when I cry.

TELL ME: How are you reacting to the situation unfolding in Ukraine? If you have personal connections to Ukraine and feel comfortable sharing, please do.

ALSO, please take time to read my friend Paula’s post, “Spring in Europe.” You will be moved by the message from this US combat veteran and native Minnesotan living with her husband in the Netherlands.

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Welcome to Minnesota December 13, 2019

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This message posted outside Fourth Avenue United Methodist Church In Faribault is so fitting for the season and current debate on refugees and immigration.

 

“The inn is not full in Minnesota.”

Those words summarize a letter sent today by Minnesota Governor Tim Walz to U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo making it clear that Minnesota will continue to welcome refugees.

I am thankful for that strong statement. I live in a diverse community which includes many immigrants and refugees. They are an important part of Faribault, of our work force, of our local economy, of our schools…

My forefathers were once immigrants, arriving here from Germany. Did they always feel welcome? Probably not. But they worked hard and assimilated without giving up their heritage.

As we continue in this holiday season, I hope an attitude of peace and good will prevails. We are all just people with the same basic needs of food, clothing and shelter. And a desire to feel accepted and welcomed. Wherever we choose to live.

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling