WHENEVER I DISCOVER a public mural that celebrates community, especially the cultural diversity of a place, I get excited. Such art builds community in a strong, vibrant, visible way.
Earlier this summer, while traveling through west central Minnesota, I found a pop art mural in the heart of downtown Willmar. Titled “Bring Some to Share,” the art by Minneapolis muralist Lili Lennox makes a bold statement on the exterior of Midtown Plaza Mall.
The public art speaks to the diversity of this city of some 21,000 which, when I grew up an hour to the south, was overwhelmingly White. Today Hispanics, Latinos and Blacks account for nearly 40 percent of Willmar’s population.
Thus the eight aluminum panels featuring flags of the USA, Somalia, Mexico, Honduras, India, Norway and the Karen National Union, plus the old Minnesota state flag, painted on slow cookers certainly represent Willmar today.
The location of the mural on Midtown Plaza seems especially fitting, The building serves as a business center and gathering space for East African immigrants. It once housed Erickson Furniture, a long-time regional business with connections to Faribault. The Erickson family also operated a furniture store in Faribault beginning in 1956 until its closure in 2025. The store has since reopened as Erickson Family Furniture, but is no longer in the Erickson family.
Faribault, slightly larger than Willmar at 25,000 residents, is also a diverse city with sizable Somali and Hispanic/Latino populations. And Faribault, too, celebrates its diversity via a public mural in the heart of downtown. “Love for All” features multi-hued hands signing the word “love” in American sign language.
I appreciate that Minneapolis artist Jordyn Brennan’s inclusive artwork depicts how this county seat town has evolved—no longer mostly all White, but rather of differing races. Today Whites comprise about 66 percent of Faribault’s population.
Statistics aside, Faribault and Willmar are examples of a changing rural Minnesota. Like long ago European immigrants, East Africans, Hispanics, Latinos and others come here for jobs, for opportunities, for a new life. They come to work, to start businesses, to raise their families, to pursue the American dream. Some have escaped war, poverty and other violence in their native countries.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that not everyone values the cultural diversity of cities like Faribault and Willmar. I’ve heard and read the derogatory comments, which I won’t repeat. Rather, it’s important to remember that all of us in Minnesota, except Native Americans and descendants of slaves, are either immigrants or the descendants of immigrants.
So let’s bring our crockpots brimming with assorted flavors to the table to share. Let’s celebrate each other by connecting in conversations, gathering in community and understanding that we are more alike than we are different.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Barns, an enduring symbol of farming June 25, 2026
Tags: agricultural symbol, agriculture, barns, childhood memories, commentary, cosmos, farm sites, farming, Hutchinson, Mantorville, Minnesota, photography, road trip, rural life, rural Minnesota, southern Minnesota, travel
IF A SINGLE BUILDING symbolizes agriculture in Minnesota, it is a barn.
Barns hold the history of farming within their walls. They hold the stories of farm families who labored therein. They hold memories—the heat of cattle, the lingering scent of manure, the pulse of milking machines, the scurrying of barn cats and much more.
Barns also hold heartaches and challenges and the satisfaction and rewards that come with farming.
To step inside a barn, or even to observe one from a distance as I did on recent trips out and about in rural Minnesota, is to understand the importance agriculture plays in this state.
Sure, farming has changed. Many barns no longer house animals, once a farm staple, as ag has shifted to crop farming. But at its core, this profession, this way of life, still centers rural parts of Minnesota, keeps small towns going. I saw that, from Mantorville to Faribault and from Faribault to Morris and back home.
Barns dominate farm sites just like grain elevators landmark many small rural communities.
While I see too many dilapidated barns fallen into heaps of rotting wood, I also see those that are well-cared for, still standing strong against the ravages of time and weather. I know that comes at a cost to the landowner. Keeping a barn properly roofed and painted is a major expense. I appreciate efforts to preserve barns built by generations past.
My ancestry traces to farming, to German immigrants who arrived in America, eventually making their way to southwestern Minnesota. There they found rich dark soil in which to plant seeds. Land upon which to build farmhouses, barns and other buildings necessary to the operation of a farm.
I am rooted in farming. I worked inside the barn my father built. I shoveled manure, scooped silage, pushed a wheelbarrow heaping with ground feed, carried pails brimming with milk, bedded straw, tossed hay bales from the hayloft, fed calves… I worked the land, too, picking rock and pulling cockleburrs. I carried lunch to my dad and uncles on hot summer days of baling hay.
There is nothing romantic about farming. It is hard work. It is a risky business affected by weather, markets, prices, too many factors out of a farmer’s control.
Yet, I will unequivocally state that I am incredibly thankful I grew up on a working farm. The lessons learned there about working together, about forging forward despite setbacks, about standing independent and strong are ingrained in me.
My dad laughed when I told him I wanted to be a farmer when I grew up. He knew better. There was nothing to keep me on the farm. And so I left, went to college, became a journalist. But even though physically-removed from the farm, I’ve always carried my ruralness within me, reflected in my writing and photography.
I find myself still drawn to rural scenes. A farm site. A grain elevator. A gravel road. Cattle grazing. Farm machinery, especially tractors, traversing fields. These all define agriculture. But it is the barn which symbolizes farming and the enduring strength and hope of a farmer.
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NOTE: I took these photos from the front passenger seat, either through the windshield or side window while traveling at highway speeds. Locations of several photos are not noted as I don’t recall the exact locations.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling