Finn the duck. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2026)
DUCKS IN THE WATER. Ducks on the river bank. Ducks crossing a street. Ducks in a park, in a front yard, on a courthouse lawn. I’ve spotted ducks in all of these places, but never in a pet stroller.
Yet, early last Saturday afternoon, along came Finn the duck riding in the basket of a stroller pushed by her owner, Korey of West Concord. He was wheeling her past the Rice County government services building, which caused four of us to pause and inquire about the oddity before us.
Seems Finn was the sole duckling in last year’s hatch, leaving Korey with one option, to care for her. He raises over 150 “birds”—ducks, chickens, geese, guinea hens…and sells eggs.
Finn follows him everywhere. She even accompanies him into businesses like Lowe’s Home Improvement, her favorite store, according to Korey. The female duck sits on his shoulder. And if she flies off while at home, she always comes back.
The affectionate connection between the two is obvious. As Korey stroked her back, Finn’s tail wagged. Just like a dog.
He got the stroller recently, partially to protect Finn from dogs and other dangers while they’re out an about. I’m quite certain she’s relatively safe given Korey’s attentive care. Back home Finn has a wading pool for splashing and swimming. Yup, Finn is just a little bit spoiled.
A street scene in the heart of downtown Kenyon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2026)
TO WRITE A FICTIONAL BOOK, you begin with an idea, which births words. Words beget sentences, then paragraphs, then chapters. But the process is not quite that simple. Creating a work of fiction requires attention to detail from character development to dialogue to setting to plot. I’ve written short stories that have published, thus understand the craft.
I want to hone in on one word—details. They are a hallmark of a good story, of creative writing. And they are also the hallmark of small towns. Let me explain.
Just as you drive into Kenyon from the west, you’ll see this TARDIS in a residential yard. It’s the featured mode of transportation in the BBC sci-fi television show “Doctor Who.”
How many times have you driven through a community without really seeing it, without noticing the rich details that, like details in a story, make it unique, interesting?
I notice the little things. Perhaps it’s my journalism and photography background that draw me to look closer, beyond the surface. I seek out anything that is different, unusual, surprising. And I’m never disappointed.
Help wanted in Kenyon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2026)
Drive slowly around any small town or walk along Main Street with a focused perspective and you will soon see the details that integrate into the story line of a community. That includes Kenyon, a Goodhue County town of around 1,900 best known for its Boulevard of Roses.
Sign painter Mike Meyer, formerly of Mazeppa, painted the sign for the former Martin Fox Garage. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2026)
Minnesota State Highway 60, along which all those roses grow, runs right through the heart of Kenyon, intersecting with state highway 56. The intersection thrums with traffic. But I wonder how many motorists notice the bold Fox’s Garage Firestone Tires sign painted on the side of a stalwart brick building half a block away from that busy intersection? It’s an artsy nod to local history.
This memorial is located in the veterans park along Minnesota State Highway 56. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2026)
Nearby, at the Kenyon Veterans Memorial Park, I discovered Jacob’s Tree and a plaque honoring Jacob Wetterling and all missing children. It was an unexpected memorial in a place focused on veterans. But it also seemed fitting to honor the 11-year-old Minnesota boy who was abducted by a stranger in 1989, his remains found 27 years later. Jacob was, after all, a small town boy grabbed while biking to a video store.
The video store is closed, but the sign remains. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2026)
Kenyon once had a video store, now a tobacco and vape shop. The K-Town Video sign tells me that.
For a small town, Kenyon offers several downtown food options, including Che Che’s Lunchera at a former corner gas station. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2026)
Likewise, remnants of fuel pricing signage still banner a former gas station where today Che Che’s Lunchera food truck serves up Mexican food under the station canopy.
Old, faded signage posted long ago for snowmobilers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2026)
Details like these point to a town’s history, to its evolution. Back at the vets park, a fading vintage sign once directed snowmobilers to gas and food along a designated trail route.
The newest sign at Kenyon Meats. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2026)
I hold a fondness for signs and Kenyon offers plenty of homegrown signage. That includes clever and humorous messages posted outside Kenyon Meats along highway 60. I expect many motorists have noticed SMOKE MEAT NOT METH and DON’T FRY BACON NAKED. And now the newest—YOUR MOM LIKES OUR MEAT.
A tractor and a pick-up truck, rural hallmarks. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2026)
But it takes a turn onto a side street and through an alley to see an old John Deere tractor parked next to a pick-up truck behind a building. This is a farming community rooted in rural.
A basketball hoop in an unexpected place. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2026)
Along that same alley, next to the post office parking lot, I noticed a basketball hoop standing between dumpsters and a recycling bin. It seemed out of place until I realized there’s probably an apartment above the post office. The hoop hints at teens dribbling a basketball across the pavement on a hot summer evening, arms and legs flailing in a pick-up game, sweat beading their foreheads.
An honoring message on a door at the VFW. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2026)
Across the street at the Kenyon VFW, I spotted the silhouette of a veteran on a side door with an honoring message of “WE SALUTE YOU.” More characters, more dialogue, more stories. On this visit to Kenyon, I looked for details that often go unnoticed. And when I looked, I saw community.
Garbage I recently picked up from my yard. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2026)
DECADES AGO, when I worked a summer job with the Redwood County Highway Department through a government program for low income families, our crew of several teens was tasked one day with walking the ditches along a county road. That proved an eye-opening experience as we gathered litter. Most memorable among our finds were a dirty disposal diaper and a torn love letter. We spent our lunch break piecing together that heartbreaking love note.
Today I’m still picking up litter, now in my Faribault yard. Living on a corner lot along a high traffic street, my lawn gets plenty of garbage tossed by passing motorists. Every time I grab another beverage container, a fast food bag or box, a whatever that should have gone in the garbage or recycling, I wonder why people are too lazy to properly dispose of waste.
Photographed several years ago on a public recycling dumpster in Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
EARTH DAY BEGINS IN 1970
With those personal backstories, I’m grateful for ongoing efforts to educate all of us about taking care of our planet during annual Earth Day events. This marks 56 years since that celebration began on April 22, 1970.
I remember the early 1970s, when America was in the thick of an energy crisis. Prices rose at the pump. Fuel was in short supply. In some ways, all of this fueled an awareness that we need to conserve our natural resources, choose alternative energy sources, and respect and care for our planet.
(Black Beach book cover sourced online)
BLACK BEACH
Because I like to learn, I popped into the Faribault library recently with the intention of checking out children’s picture books about Earth Day. Others apparently had the same idea. I found only one book, Black Beach—A Community, an Oil Spill, and the Origin of Earth Day, written by Shaunna and John Stith and illustrated by Maribel Lechuga. But it was the only book I needed to root out the origin of Earth Day.
A large oil spill from drilling off the coast of Santa Barbara, California, on January 28, 1969, prompted outrage, action and the eventual establishment of Earth Day the following year. I high-recommend this book as an invaluable resource with an interesting, factual-based story, a timeline of events, additional information on Earth Day and actions we can take to advocate for and protect our environment.
A banner flies at a past Earth Day Celebration at Bridge Square in Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
NORTHFIELD EARTH DAY EVENTS
Libraries are always an excellent resource. At the Northfield Public Library, Earth Day Game Day will be held from 10-11 a.m. Saturday, April 25. Led by Science in World and Word class students from St. Olaf College, the event celebrates planet Earth with educational games and activities geared for 6-11-year-olds. Game Day is part of Northfield’s larger Earth Day Celebration.
I’ve previously attended the Northfield celebration, now in its 17th year. Activities are centered at Armory Square from 11 a.m.-4 p.m. Saturday, April 25, with workshops, eco exhibitors, crafts, a climate information session, farmers’ market, and more. Visit northfieldearthday.com for a full schedule of activities.
Other Earth Day Celebration weekend events in Northfield include clean-up of Riverside Park, a tour of regenerative Salvatierra Farms (from 1-3 p.m. Sunday), an Earth Day Contra Dance (from 7-10 p.m. Friday) and tree planting at the Carleton College arboretum.
Sky and trees in spring at Falls Creek County Park, rural Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
TREE PLANTINGS & MORE
Tree plantings are happening in other area communities during Earth Day week and on Arbor Day, April 24. At River Bend Nature Center in Faribault, staff will lead volunteers in planting trees to replace diseased ash. That’s set for 1-3 p.m. Wednesday, April 22, and from 10 a.m.-noon Saturday, April 25. The City of Faribault, a designated Tree City USA, hosts an Arbor Day tree planting ceremony at 9 a.m. at Batchelder Park. The same day, the Rice County Master Gardeners will give away tree seedlings from 3-5 p.m. at the Rice County Fairgrounds.
Additionally in Owatonna, the holistic wellness boutique Daisy Blue Naturals, 121 West Main Street, is hosting an Earth Day Storytime from 3:30-5 p.m. Wednesday, April 22, with Miss Midwest 2026, May Diddy. This includes a puppet show, book reading, activities and snacks.
This banner flew at the 2022 Northfield Earth Day Celebration. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
CARING FOR PLANET EARTH
Fifty-six years ago, Earth Day began in this country. To see how it’s grown and evolved is heartening. It takes each of us, individually and collectively, to do our part for this planet we call home. Whether that’s recycling, repurposing, composting, hanging laundry on the line, thrifting, planting trees and rain gardens, conserving water, and much more, we are responsible for taking care of Earth. That includes disposing of litter properly—not in a road ditch. And not in my yard.
An inflatable Easter bunny photographed in Courtland (west of Mankato) many Easters ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
LAST EASTER I FAILED as a mom. I failed to mail a chocolate bunny to my adult son who lives in Boston. It wasn’t that I forgot, but rather that I didn’t want to spend the money for a chunk of chocolate which seemed overpriced at the time. I also really didn’t think my son cared all that much about getting a bunny from me. He did.
So this year, more than a week before Easter, I picked up a 3-ounce solid chocolate bunny for $2.97 and mailed it for $8.10. Not exactly fiscally smart. But sometimes you can’t put a price on tradition, love and expectations of a loved one.
A stained glass window inside Holden Lutheran Church, rural Kenyon, depicts the crucifixion of Jesus. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
That got me thinking about Easter traditions, both secular and faith-based. Easter, for me, has always been a mix of each with the primary focus on celebrating Christ’s resurrection.
Eggs dyed with my mom several years before her death. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
As a child, I dyed eggs with my five siblings and parents, something I continued with my three children. As a child, I set my repurposed yellow plastic cottage cheese container, filled with plastic grass, on the kitchen table. The next morning my siblings and I awakened way too early to search for our Easter “baskets” hidden somewhere inside our farmhouse.
I’m sure Mom would have preferred we slept in. But you can’t curtail a child’s excitement over getting candy, a rare treat back in the day. The goal was always to find our baskets before heading to worship services at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Vesta.
If we could get away with it, we inked our arms with temporary tattoos from the Easter egg dyeing kit. Mom preferred we wait until after church to stamp our skin. But we kids didn’t always listen.
We did, however, listen when Mom told us to get ready for church, the boys in their suits or other dress clothes and us girls in our Easter dresses and bonnets. Or as my sister still reminds me, in the ugly yellow daisy dress handed down from me to her.
My vintage 1960s purse, which I still have. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I still remember with great fondness the ensemble—a lime green skirt and jacket with a sleeveless floral top—stitched by my godmother one Easter. I carried a lime green purse, completing the fashionable look. Oh, how I wish I still had that 1960s outfit. Perhaps my granddaughter could wear it. Or maybe not. She might just tell me, “To be honest with you, Grandma…,” as she did recently about a frozen cheese pizza she didn’t like.
My favorite Easter hymn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Once my siblings and I arrived at St. John’s in our Easter finery, we scampered up the steep steps to the balcony. There we joyously sang “I Know That My Redeemer Lives” with other Sunday School students. That remains my favorite Easter hymn.
While decades have passed since those childhood Easters back on the southwestern Minnesota prairie, the lessons I learned and the faith that grew inside me remain strong.
The risen Lord centers a trio of stained glass windows above the altar inside Trinity Lutheran Church, Wanamingo. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Now, as the aging matriarch of the family, I find our Easter celebration evolving. My eldest daughter and her husband often host Easter dinner. And if I don’t worship at my own church, Trinity Lutheran, I join her family for worship in their Lakeville church, ironically named St. John’s.
Halfway across the country, my son will likely be alone on Easter. But he will at least have the chocolate bunny I mailed to him from Minnesota, without fail this year.
Protesters line up along Minnesota State Highway 60 in Faribault two weeks ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo February 2026)
WE PULLED INTO THE PARKING LOT shortly before 11 a.m. Saturday, grabbed our signs from the back of the van and headed to the sidewalk. There Randy and I joined others filtering in to protest by the Rice County government services building along busy Minnesota State Highway 60/Fourth Street in Faribault.
For six Saturday mornings now, people have gathered here to raise their voices against aggressive federal immigration enforcement in Minnesota and against many other policies and directives of the Trump administration negatively affecting our lives (and that of our neighbors) and/or threatening our country. Whatever concerns someone—democracy, Constitutional rights, due process, tariffs, the economy, voting rights, authoritarianism, immigration—those topics are covered in signage and/or in conversations.
Saturday morning we stood some 40 strong in 15-degree temps with a biting wind. That’s about half our usual number. Some of the regulars were missing, but I also saw many new faces.
Protesting against ICE two weeks ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo February 2026)
ICE IS STILL HERE
Top on all of our minds remains Operation Metro Surge, the largest mass immigration enforcement effort in the country which saw 3,000 federal agents descend on Minnesota. That includes here in our community, home to many Latinos, Hispanics and Somalis.
Despite the announced drawdown of those agents, ICE activity in Faribault has not decreased since they started working here in early December, according to one protester I questioned on Saturday. He laughed when I inquired, a telling response. He’s a trustworthy source, a boots-on-the-ground individual who is active and informed.
Groceries and personal care items collected by a church in the south metro for those in need. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo February 2026)
THE PERSONAL & FINANCIAL FALL-OUT
To hear stories of retired teachers giving kids rides to school is simultaneously heartening and heartbreaking. Parents should be driving their children to school or walking them to the bus stop. But, because of ICE, others are doing that while they are sheltered at home, afraid to leave, not working, not going to the grocery store.
Food shelves have sprung up in schools and in churches, supplementing already existing nonprofit food shelves. The need is great. I recently started volunteering at a local food shelf.
Families unable to pay rent now face eviction. The Faribault City Council last week denied a request from the Faribault Community Action Center for $50,000 in emergency rental assistance. In neighboring Northfield, the city council unanimously approved an identical request from the Northfield Community Action Center.
Faribault is a blue collar community that runs red. Northfield is white collar blue.
A sign held at a previous protest. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
REACTIONS TO OUR PROTESTS
Whenever we protest, we are subjected to profanity, vulgarity and negative behavior from passing motorists among the overwhelmingly positive support. Based on my observations the four past Saturday mornings, the loudest and angriest are white women probably in their forties. I don’t understand the intensity of their angry outbursts. We just smile and wave, figuring we got to them with our messages.
Near the center of this frame, a protester carries a Rebel Loon sign. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo February 2026)
THE STORIES
I like to mingle when I protest. It’s a great opportunity to meet new people, to hear stories. Like that of an elementary school student who returned to classes last week after a two-month absence. Or the first-time protester whose husband, an immigrant, has worked mostly remotely rather than drive to his job in Minneapolis. Or the man who crafted a Rebel Loon (the Minnesota state bird) sign and was protesting for someone who could not be there for fear of ICE.
These are real stories of real people in my community. I may not know the little girl who returned to school or the protester’s husband or the friend of the Rebel Loon guy. But I do know that I care about the people in my community who have lived in, and continue to live in, fear of federal immigration agents regardless of legal status. Residents of my community have been racially profiled, stopped, questioned because they are black or brown, have an accent, dress differently. I have talked to a Hispanic woman, an American citizen, who was stopped by ICE.
This is why I protest in the deep cold of a Minnesota winter, standing beside others with signs, Minnesota state flags and peace flags in a town of 25,000 where protesting exposes you to criticism. It matters to my profiled and targeted neighbors that I am publicly standing up for them. They’ve told me so. I cannot remain silent. We are stronger together. Minnesota Strong.
The winter boots I wear while protesting. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
BREAD BAGS
We protesters brave the cold for those who cannot safely stand here. We wrap scarves around our necks, put on parkas, pull on long johns and ear flapper caps and wool socks and winter boots, sometimes adding foot and hand warmers. Several of us joked about returning next week with bread bags inside our boots for another layer of warmth, a throwback to our childhood days.
By then I’d been outside for an hour, my cheeks slapped red by the wind, my fingers and toes growing numb. But I was laughing, deep belly laughing, at the bread bag stories. It felt good to laugh with these protesters, to find comedic relief in the darkest of times.
Joseph Mbele shares stories, proverbs and culture on February 11 at Books on Central, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
Last Wednesday evening, Joseph Mbele, retired St. Olaf College professor of post-colonial literature, cultural consultant, author and storyteller, shared three African proverbs during a literary event at Books on Central. This man, who calls himself an African and a Tanzanian, held the rapt attention of attendees gathered in the used bookshop in the heart of downtown Faribault, home to many Somalis.
THE CROCODILE
While I enjoyed the two African folktales Mbele told, I really appreciated the proverbs. They are, by nature of a proverb, succinct. A few words carry a whole lot of punch. First up, this proverb: “Before you cross the river, don’t insult the crocodile’s mouth.”
Immediately the image of a crocodile’s sharp teeth popped into my mind. As it should have. This proverb, Mbele explained, is about being respectful to people in our relationships and in life in general. Be anything but respectful and we risk negative consequences. Snap.
THE BLACKSMITH
Second up this African proverb: “It’s because of man that the blacksmith makes weapons.” Thinking in African terms, the weapons would be knives and spears. I thought of guns. Mbele repeated the proverb, letting it sink into our brains. “It’s because of man that the blacksmith makes weapons.” The lesson here, Mbele said, is that we can be better than this—be kind, helpful and supportive—so we don’t need to bear arms/weapons. That’s an oversimplification, of course. But proverbs are not meant to be complex.
THE VISUALLY-IMPAIRED
Third, Mbele recited this proverb: “The one-eyed person only thanked God after he saw a blind person.” As someone with vision issues, that hit home. The proverb is a way of teaching gratitude, Mbele said. The contrast between seeing with only one eye and total blindness put the situation in perspective. The thought that there’s always someone who has it worse probably flitted through the minds of everyone in the bookshop.
THE STORYTELLERS
Mbele talked about the tradition of Africans sitting around telling stories to entertain and teach. Languages like his native Matengo, an indigenous language in Tanzania, are oral, not written. As he spoke, I began to understand the importance of folktales in African life. Stories connect people and, like proverbs, teach lessons.
Applied to my own community, Mbele explained that Somali men gathering on downtown Faribault street corners are simply socializing and sharing stories and are not to be feared. “It’s un-African to be by yourself,” he said of a culture that focuses on family and togetherness.
He even went so far as to say an African could be considered evil or a witch if living alone. That surprised me, but drove home the cultural importance of community and family. Now if only everyone in Faribault could hear these proverbs and insights from this native Tanzanian. Then perhaps they would not fear that which they don’t understand, like the Somali elders gathered on street corners downtown telling stories, sharing news or simply sitting in each other’s presence.
HE’S A MESMERIZING and engaging storyteller. He is Joseph Mbele, retired professor of post-colonial literature at St. Olaf College in Northfield, cultural consultant and author.
And Wednesday, February 11, at 6 p.m., Mbele will be the featured speaker at a free literary event at Books on Central, a volunteer-run used bookshop of the Rice County Area United Way. Located in the heart of historic downtown Faribault, home to many Somali immigrants and refugees, the bookshop seems a fitting place for Mbele to talk about the living tradition of African folktales and the role of the storyteller. Somali men gather on street corners in downtown Faribault to share stories and news.
I’ve heard Mbele speak at this bookshop previously. I absolutely cannot say enough positive things about the warm way he connects with the audience, the way he uses stories to teach, the way he genuinely cares about bridging cultural differences.
Love this book by Joseph Mbele.
As an author, his writing carries that same compassionate, culturally-connective message. He’s written Africans and Americans: Embracing Cultural Differences, Chickens in the Bus: More Thoughts on Cultural Differences, and Matengo Folktales.
Mbele knows of what he speaks and writes. Born in rural Tanzania, he studied and taught at a public university there; earned a PhD in African Language and Literature from the University of Wisconsin—Madison; and eventually landed in the English department of St. Olaf College in 1991.
His visit to Books on Central on Wednesday evening presents an opportunity to learn from a gifted storyteller about African folktales and culture in a comfortable setting back-dropped by shelves of books.
The stories of six women from Mexico are featured on these panels in a traveling exhibit in the atrium of the Northfield Public Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
STORIES CONNECT US on a personal level. And now, more than ever, it’s important to hear and read the stories of others to grow understanding, acceptance and community.
An introductory panel explains the exhibit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
One of my favorite quotes in the exhibit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
“Chicāhuac” is an endeavor of Puentes/Bridges, a nonprofit that helps farming communities in southeastern Minnesota and western Wisconsin bridge cultural and language gaps between Mexican workers, farmers and communities. During the past 20 years, dairy farmers have traveled to Mexico to meet the families of their employees. Fifth-generation Wisconsin dairy farmer and co-founder of Puentes/Bridges, John Rosenow, sparked this public storytelling project.
A portrait of Oligaria by Olivia Villareal-Bishop. Oligaria worked on a dairy farm in the U.S. before returning to Mexico. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Many dairy farmers in both Minnesota and Wisconsin, including Rosenow, rely on Mexican migrants to milk and care for their cows. Two of the women profiled in the exhibit worked on U.S. dairy farms before returning home to Mexico.
As someone who grew up on a family dairy farm, I understand the value of skilled laborers committed to being there day in and day out to milk cows. Advances in mechanization have certainly made milking cows easier in the years since I left the farm. But it’s still not a job many would choose. Yet, these men (and some women) from Mexico are choosing this work to support themselves and their families across the border.
Those viewing the exhibit are invited to write messages to the women on individual postcards. Those will then be delivered by Puentes/Bridges to the women. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Support of family is a consistent theme running throughout the narratives of the six women featured in the exhibit. Their loved ones in America send money back to Mexico so their families can have a better life.
Veronica’s story, in Spanish, in the bilingual exhibit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
In her words, Veronica says, “I took the money Roberto sent and bought some land, built a house for us, built a house for his parents, raised three kids to be great human beings, and at one time cared for 17 people in our household.”
I’ve long understood the high value Latinos place on family, observing those strong ties while out and about in my community. The words of these six women reaffirm “familismo,” placing family needs above that of the individual.
A quote stresses the importance of community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Yet, the separation of families takes an emotional toll on those left behind in Mexico and those now living in America. “When they go, it’s so sad,” says Teresa. “One suffers a lot. You cry when they go. You don’t know how long it will take them, when they’ll arrive, how they’ll be treated, who will give them a little glass of water if they need it?”
Each of the six women have their own panel telling their stories. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Imagine if you were that mother—Concepciona, Doña Conchita, Fatima, Oligaria, Teresa or Veronica. I admire the strength of these women who endure much, who remain strong and resilient.
Among the many photos in the exhibit is this one of Fatima and her mom making tortillas. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Back in Mexico, these women grow corn, make tortillas, spin wool into yarn, run a school supply store and much more. They care for their families, honor and celebrate their culture, connect with and embrace their communities.
Their stories matter. They matter. And it’s important for all of us to understand that.
The atrium side/lower level entry to the Northfield Public Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
FYI: “Chicāhuac: Women’s Stories of Strength & Sacrifice from Rural Mexico to the Midwest” will be at the Northfield library until February 4. Then it moves to the Cannon Falls Public Library, opening there on February 5 through February 21. After that, Lanesboro, LaCrescent and Red Wing will host the exhibit. You can view the exhibit and learn more about Puentes/Bridges online at https://www.puentesbridges.org/ This exhibit stemmed from a 2025 trip to Mexico and a collaboration between Puentes/Bridges, the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire and the Wisconsin Latinx History Collective.
Protesters stand along Minnesota State Highway 3 in Northfield at a NO KINGS protest. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2025)
ONCE UPON A TIME in The Land of Plenty, the leader of the land ruled like a king. Not a nice king. Not a kind king. But rather a mean-spirited one.
The leader had never been appointed king. It was a title he claimed for himself with oppressive authority. In truth, he’d been voted into his powerful position, not overwhelmingly as he declared, but rather in a close election. That should have been enough to tamp his crowing, rein in his overuse of superfluous adjectives and adverbs, deflate his super-inflated ego and encourage good behavior. But it was not to be.
ONE JANUARY DAY
Rather the self-proclaimed king, who’d been ousted from The Land of Plenty after his first tenure, determined to make up for lost time. Five years earlier, on an early January day, he attempted to retain power when his supporters stormed the castle. He claimed ignorance. Some believed him; many didn’t. Evidence doesn’t lie.
The king’s anger simmered, then boiled over when he returned to the castle feeling vindicated and empowered. A man of vengeance, he sought to punish any who opposed him. On the flip side, he freed those he considered wrongfully shackled. No one would do harm to him or his legion. No one. He was in charge. His decisions held absolute power. Only his voice mattered.
Threats. Intimidation. Cruel and demeaning words. Imprisonment. Deflection. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Conspiracy theories. All fit his mode of ruling. He would make The Land of Plenty great again, whatever that meant.
BROKEN PROMISES
He promised to end wars and claimed he had. He promised to lower prices. He promised to rid the land of strangers and foreigners. That sounded promising to all who supported him. No conflict, only peace. Fewer coins spent on food purchased in the town square marketplace. A strong land unlike any other, without foreigners roaming the streets, taking away jobs, committing crimes and creating chaos (his words).
Except it was the king creating chaos. Doing whatever he pleased. Causing discord. Divisions arose within the kingdom. World conflict increased. Prices spiked as the king imposed new taxes. The ruler of The Land of Plenty was viewed by millions as uncaring, ruthless, self-centered and far worse. Many felt his wrath.
SNATCHED, BANISHED
The king targeted strangers and foreigners who contributed greatly to the economy and success of the kingdom. They toiled in fields, wagon wheel factories, blacksmith shops, bakeries… Some even emptied his golden commode. But to the king, none of that mattered. “Go back to your homeland!” the king screamed. “We don’t want you here!” He decreed that the unwanted should be snatched, grabbed off the streets by his masked henchmen and banished. And so many were.
As the days, weeks, months and then a year passed since the self-proclaimed king resumed his rule, the situation in The Land of Plenty was far from fine. It was, in fact, rather awful, dire, especially for the lowly peasants who labored long hours for every coin. Many realized they’d been duped, led to believe in fairy tale endings. In happily ever after.
And so the story goes with three chapters unwritten, the ending unknown.
An anonymous mother’s story and commentary as written by Kate Langlais for her “I Am Minnesota” project. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
I ALMOST MISSED IT. “Anonymous Mother’s Story” positioned next to “The Young Mother” charcoal portrait in the “I Am Minnesota” exhibit by Faribault artist Kate Langlais. But there it was, tucked in the corner near the light switches in the Paradise Center for the Arts main gallery.
The exhibit features some 20 portraits and stories of first and second-generation immigrants from my community. None is more relevant than that of the young mother who now faces deportation and separation from her infant. Here are key words in her story: young mother. here legally. green card. application suddenly canceled. awaiting deportation. ankle bracelet. cruel and inhumane.
We’ve all heard countless media reports of people snatched from the streets and elsewhere by masked agents of the federal government, unlawfully detained without due process, separated from family, deported… That is, indeed, cruel, inhumane, heartbreaking and wrong. Even when immigrants are following all of the rules, all of the laws to legally live here, they find themselves targeted.
Martha Brown took this photo of the anonymous mother which is included, along with text, in the “I Am Minnesota” exhibit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
To read the story of this young mother from my area, to see the faceless portrait, and then to also view a photo taken by Martha Brown, candidate for Minnesota House District 19a, deeply touched me. Brown photographed only the young woman’s legs and the wheels of her baby’s stroller. That was absolutely the right and compassionate thing to do.
The intentionally-framed image is more effective and powerful than if Brown had photographed the woman’s face. Every single person who sees this image should understand the reasons for anonymity. In a statement with the photo, Brown urges southern Minnesotans to reach out to their U.S. congressman “to stop this cruel and inhumane treatment.”
Langlais’ inclusion of the anonymous mother’s portrait and story, along with Brown’s photo and words, is perhaps the most important part of the “I Am Minnesota” exhibit. And to think, I nearly missed it there in a corner of the gallery. Don’t miss this exhibit, which closes on November 15 at the Paradise Center for the Arts. It’s located in historic downtown Faribault, a place many immigrants call home.
One of my favorite images from downtown Faribault shows a group of Somali men visiting on a street corner. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2024)
FYI:The Northfield Public Library is hosting “Bridging Communities: A Celebration of Somali Culture” from 1-4 p.m. Saturday, November 8. The event features interactive dance workshops led by the Somali Museum of Minnesota Dance Troupe;a performance by the Faribault Middle School Choir; and a participatory sing-along of Somali songs. Other activities include henna art, face painting, bilingual Somali storytelling, a scavenger hunt with prizes and more. The library is collaborating with Somali community partners and St. Olaf and Carleton colleges to bring this event to Northfield.
NOTE: I photographed the “I Am Minnesota” exhibit with permission of the Paradise. I also received permission from Martha Brown to include her photo in this post.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Inside The Land of Plenty under “the king’s” rule January 6, 2026
Tags: commentary, fiction, January 6, king, opinion, stories, The Land of Plenty
ONCE UPON A TIME in The Land of Plenty, the leader of the land ruled like a king. Not a nice king. Not a kind king. But rather a mean-spirited one.
The leader had never been appointed king. It was a title he claimed for himself with oppressive authority. In truth, he’d been voted into his powerful position, not overwhelmingly as he declared, but rather in a close election. That should have been enough to tamp his crowing, rein in his overuse of superfluous adjectives and adverbs, deflate his super-inflated ego and encourage good behavior. But it was not to be.
ONE JANUARY DAY
Rather the self-proclaimed king, who’d been ousted from The Land of Plenty after his first tenure, determined to make up for lost time. Five years earlier, on an early January day, he attempted to retain power when his supporters stormed the castle. He claimed ignorance. Some believed him; many didn’t. Evidence doesn’t lie.
The king’s anger simmered, then boiled over when he returned to the castle feeling vindicated and empowered. A man of vengeance, he sought to punish any who opposed him. On the flip side, he freed those he considered wrongfully shackled. No one would do harm to him or his legion. No one. He was in charge. His decisions held absolute power. Only his voice mattered.
Threats. Intimidation. Cruel and demeaning words. Imprisonment. Deflection. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Conspiracy theories. All fit his mode of ruling. He would make The Land of Plenty great again, whatever that meant.
BROKEN PROMISES
He promised to end wars and claimed he had. He promised to lower prices. He promised to rid the land of strangers and foreigners. That sounded promising to all who supported him. No conflict, only peace. Fewer coins spent on food purchased in the town square marketplace. A strong land unlike any other, without foreigners roaming the streets, taking away jobs, committing crimes and creating chaos (his words).
Except it was the king creating chaos. Doing whatever he pleased. Causing discord. Divisions arose within the kingdom. World conflict increased. Prices spiked as the king imposed new taxes. The ruler of The Land of Plenty was viewed by millions as uncaring, ruthless, self-centered and far worse. Many felt his wrath.
SNATCHED, BANISHED
The king targeted strangers and foreigners who contributed greatly to the economy and success of the kingdom. They toiled in fields, wagon wheel factories, blacksmith shops, bakeries… Some even emptied his golden commode. But to the king, none of that mattered. “Go back to your homeland!” the king screamed. “We don’t want you here!” He decreed that the unwanted should be snatched, grabbed off the streets by his masked henchmen and banished. And so many were.
As the days, weeks, months and then a year passed since the self-proclaimed king resumed his rule, the situation in The Land of Plenty was far from fine. It was, in fact, rather awful, dire, especially for the lowly peasants who labored long hours for every coin. Many realized they’d been duped, led to believe in fairy tale endings. In happily ever after.
And so the story goes with three chapters unwritten, the ending unknown.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling