I HAVE PHOTOGRAPHED them from a distance, their long skirts swaying as they walk across Central Park toward me.
Now the young women are standing before me and I am confused for a moment until Nasteho Farah tells me she wants to look her best and asks me to photograph them again.
Friends, Nimo Abdi, a sophomore at Faribault High School, left, and Nasteho Farah, a senior.
I agree as I already envision the portrait possibilities—the expressive brown eyes, the warm skin tone, the way Nimo Abdi leans toward her friend, her hijab brushing Nasteho’s cheek. They are beautiful young women and I take only one shot, knowing I’ve captured a memorable portrait.
I love this image of a fest performer and her single audience member for the message it portrays– the one on one connection that helps us understand one another, no matter our culture or skin color.
These Faribault High School students are among those participating in the International Festival Faribault on Saturday, an event designed to connect cultures through music, arts and crafts, kids’ activities, international cuisine, education and, on a personal level, conversation.
That same little boy who was so intently focused on the musician performing in the band shell.
After I photograph the friends, we talk about their experiences living in Faribault. And what Nasteho shares with me so upsets me that I apologize to her for the utter disrespect shown to her and her friend, who stands silently listening.
The native of Kenya, a Faribault resident for five years and prior to that a resident of Rochester, Owatonna and Waseca, says she is criticized for the scarf she wears, for her culture, for her…
“They assume I’m a terrorist.”
Her words temporarily stun me and I can feel my jaw drop.
She doesn’t define “they” specifically, but says the insults, the prejudice, happens randomly—in school, in the streets, even at work.
A group of young Somali dancers perform on the band shell stage during the festival.
When I ask for examples, Nasteho mentions the middle-aged man who comes through the drive-through at McDonalds in Faribault where she works. He tells her she should stop wearing her head scarf. She’s talked to her manager about it and he’s been supportive. For now, she mostly tries to ignore the customer’s spiteful comments.
When she walks into other businesses, like the grocery store, she feels the stares. When driving, she’s been flipped off.
“There is no respect for Somalis,” Nasteho assesses.
Yet, she doesn’t seem visibly angry, choosing instead to speak up or to take the position that those who choose to attack her or her culture do not know her or understand her.
I admire Nasteho’s positive attitude. She tells me she didn’t experience prejudice living in Rochester—a larger and more diverse community—but that it’s been much harder in a smaller town like Faribault. She was too young to remember what life was like in Owatonna or Waseca.
Faribault High School seniors Shukri Aden, left, and Khadra Muhumed.
Faribault High School students Shukri Aden and Khadra Muhumed, who are volunteering with STOPS, Students Together Offering Peer Support, at the International Festival, have also been subjected to hurtful comments from those who tell them to go back to their own country or that they smell.
“I try to talk to them,” says Shukri, who has lived in Faribault for seven years, since she came to the U.S. at age 12.
She wants everyone “to be equal no matter what color you are…to get to know each other.”
Lul Abdi shows off beautiful wood crafts from Kenya and Somalia for sale at the fest.
And this FHS senior has dreams—of going to college to become a nurse and then returning to Somali to help those in need.
On this Saturday, at this International Festival, the words of these young Somali women evoke mixed emotions within me. I am saddened by those in my community who fail to see beyond the scarves, the culture, the skin color, the language.
Mother and daughter check out the artwork from Kenya and Somalia.
These women are not terrorists. They are someone’s daughters. They are high school students. They live here, work here, shop here, worship here.
Despite the clear prejudice which angers me, I feel hope. These young women possess a maturity and poise beyond their teenage years. They yearn for understanding, for respect, for the personal connections that define them as individuals.
And on this Saturday afternoon they are trying, through their volunteerism at the International Festival Faribault, to, as Nasteho says, “bring everybody together.”
A mother’s love and care, the same in any language, any culture, any skin color.
CHECK BACK FOR A FUTURE post with photos from the seventh annual International Festival Faribault. Thank you to the organizers and participants in this festival who are trying to connect cultures, to make Faribault a better place to live, no matter your culture, skin color or country of origin.
© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Commentary: I care about my neighbors, a free press, freedom & more December 3, 2025
Tags: America, bullying, censorship, commentary, Faribault, free press, government, journalists, media, Minnesota, news, opinion, Somalis
I CAN’T IGNORE the news. I want to, no, need to, know what’s happening on all levels from local to international. Perhaps it’s my innate curiosity or my journalism background that compels me to read and watch media reports. I feel an obligation, especially in these challenging times, to be as informed as possible.
What I’ve been hearing and reading from the federal government in Washington DC continues to concern me. Deeply. I can hardly believe the rhetoric, the hatred, the awfulness that is flowing like hot lava from fiery mouths upon this land.
The latest is the hatred directed by our president toward Somalis living in America, including some 80,000 in Minnesota. My community of Faribault is home to many Somali Americans. The president has singled out Somalis in Minnesota with his derogatory words and planned, targeted ICE raids here. I am proud of the mayors of Minneapolis and St. Paul and other leaders, including the Minneapolis police chief, for speaking up and standing strong for the Somali community during a Tuesday afternoon news conference. They recognize the threat to this specific demographic. And they value the Somalis who call Minnesota home.
“Who,” I ask, “will be next? Me, because my eyes are green?” Maybe he doesn’t care for green-eyed people. Or you? Because he doesn’t like something about you.
He certainly doesn’t care for journalists, especially female journalists. I realize a dislike of journalists is nothing new. But this president has gone well beyond “dislike” to outright meanness, bullying and name-calling. I never thought I would see the day when the leader of our country would chastise a reporter with “Quiet, piggy.” I never thought I would hear an American president call a reporter fat or terrible or ugly or any other adjective while hissing “fake news” at the media.
When the U.S. government launched a Media Bias page on the official White House website just days ago, I felt nothing short of outraged. This is the United States of America, where freedom of the press ought to mean something, where the media is independent of the government, where reporters have a right and a duty to accurately report the truth without fear of intimidation, public shaming, recrimination,… This newest tactic of naming a “Media Offender of the Week” ought to anger every single person in this country. I don’t care what side of the political aisle you sit on. This latest action speaks to censorship, to controlling the press, to propaganda, to anything but democracy.
I value freedom. I hope you do, too, enough to stand up for a free press, individual rights, freedom from fear, intimidation, oppression and all that threatens us. These are unprecedented times (yes, I recognize that may be an overused word, but it fits) in our country. I refuse to remain silent.
THOUGHTS?
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling