I COME FROM A LONG LINE of engaged citizenry rooted in the rich dark soil of the southwestern Minnesota prairie. On that land, generations of my family used their voices and skills to create change, to make the place they called home a better place. My paternal great grandfather, Rudolph, started that engagement by helping found a Lutheran church in my hometown. Pre-building, congregants met in his farmhouse.
From that church to school boards to county boards, from elementary schools to high schools to college campuses and more, countless family members have served and continue to serve others by representing them, crafting policies, improving lives. I am proud of that legacy.
Now you might ask, what about you, Audrey? I, too, have served, but in a different capacity. I’ve never held a desire to lead, to run for elected office or even sit on a board. Rather, I’ve observed, used the written word to inform others. During my years working as a newspaper reporter, I covered endless county board, city council, planning and zoning board, school board, caucuses and other meetings. I learned a lot about how government does and doesn’t work during those many hours of scribbling notes, gathering quotes, writing news stories. I learned, too, that individual voices matter and are heard. And I shared that in my unbiased, balanced reporting.
Today I craft writing that is not straight news reporting, because I am no longer a newspaper reporter. Rather, my writing is personal and sometimes opinionated. My voice matters…as much as anyone’s.
While coming of age near the end of the Vietnam war, I began writing angsty poetry about the war. I purchased and wore a POW bracelet, a thick silver band that wrapped around my wrist. It was engraved with the name of an American soldier held as a prisoner of war. I also wrote the occasional opinion piece for my high school paper. Not about the war, but on other topics.
It was my dad, a dairy and crop farmer, who inspired me to voice my thoughts in the May 24, 1974, issue of my school paper, Rabbit Tracks. In an opinion piece titled “Farmers Develop Backbone of America,” teenage me wrote about low farm prices and how farmers were struggling to survive. I had witnessed my dad dumping milk down the drain during a nationwide protest by the National Farmers Organization. All these decades later, I more fully understand how difficult that must have been for Dad. He depended on income from milk sales to provide for our family. But he sacrificed and let his voice be heard in that NFO protest.
Sunday evening I listened to another farmer voice his thoughts, this time in the open mic part of a Town Hall meeting attended by hundreds in nearby Owatonna. He drove from Janesville to share concerns about how tariffs will negatively affect his farming operation via market loss, dropping crop prices and rising costs for everything from tractor parts to fertilizer and fuel. This farmer of 60-plus years pleaded with his Congressman, Representative Brad Finstad (a fourth-generation farmer who was invited but did not attend), to listen and to do something. It was a powerful and particularly emotional delivery.
Emotions are running high right now across this country. I cannot imagine anyone who would disagree with that. We may disagree on policies, decisions and leaders. But we still—as of this writing—have a voice, even as efforts to suppress our voices continue. We can protest, like my 82-year-old uncle did on Saturday at the Minnesota State Capitol. We can attend town halls to learn, to speak, to let our voices be heard. We can contact our elected officials via phone and/or email and tell them what we think. We can engage. We can vote.
A long line of speakers and attendees of all ages addressed numerous topics from veterans’ issues to education to housing to healthcare to democracy and more at the Sunday Town Hall in respectful conversation. The common threads weaving through the event were a deep concern for what is happening in our country and to assure our voices are heard.
I leave you with this opinion piece published in the October 15, 1974, issue of my high school newspaper. An 11th grader wrote about posters she created and which students were defacing. Here’s Mary’s closing sentence in a letter to the editor titled “Keep Hands, Pens Off”: A lot of time and effort has been put into these signs and the least you can do is keep your hands off of them. If everyone is so anxious to write something on the wall, make your own posters. How applicable those words are to today.
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NOTE: I welcome respectful conversation here. That said, I moderate all comments on this, my personal blog, and make the final decision on publishing comments.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Commentary: No longer free to speak, to… April 11, 2025
Tags: college campuses, commentary, detained students, Freeborn County, freedom of speech, international students, Mankato, Minnesota, Minnesota State University Mankato, opinion, protests, student newspaper, The Reporter, visa revoked
IN THE 1970s, students at my alma mater, Minnesota State University, Mankato, protested the Vietnam War. Today MSU students are protesting the detainment of an international student and the revocation of visas for five others who attend this southern Minnesota college where I studied journalism.
US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) has also detained a student from Riverland Community College in Austin, Minnesota, and from the University of Minnesota in the Twin Cities. Other international students from colleges across the state have also had their visas revoked. The same is happening at college campuses throughout the country. Students snatched off the street, from their apartments, by ICE. Pffff, gone, just like that with no explanation and no initial access to their friends, families and legal assistance. This does not sound like the United States of America I’ve called home my entire life.
I’m not privy to specifics on why particular international students were targeted. But I have read and heard enough reliable media reports to recognize that these are likely not individuals committing terrible crimes, if any crime. In most cases they have done nothing more than voice their opinions whether at a protest or via social media. College campuses have always been a place for students to speak up, to exercise freedom of speech, to be heard. To protest.
Secretary of State Marco Rubio has labeled students with revoked visas as “lunatics.” Really? Name-calling doesn’t impress me. Nor do actions to intimidate, instill fear and silence voices.
I’m grateful that student journalists at The Reporter, the Mankato State student newspaper where I worked while in college, are aggressively covering this issue. In particular, I reference the article “SCARED TO LEAVE MY HOUSE’—Mavericks react to ICE-detained student, what’s being done by Emma Johnson. She interviews international students who, for their own protection, chose to remain anonymous. It’s chilling to read their words. Words of fear. Words of disbelief and disappointment in a country where they once felt safe and free. The place where they chose to pursue their education, jumping through all the necessary legal hoops to do so. And now they fear speaking up and are asking their American classmates and others to do so for them. So I am.
MSU students, staff and community members have rallied to support their international community and to voice their opposition to ICE’s action. In neighboring Albert Lea, where the MSU student is being held in the Freeborn County Jail, a crowd gathered on Thursday to protest ICE action against international students. Of course, not everyone agrees with the protesters and it is their choice to disagree. They can. They are not international students here on visas.
I should note that the sheriffs in Freeborn County and four other Minnesota counties—Cass, Crow Wing, Itasca and Jackson—this week signed agreements to cooperate with ICE.
These are troubling times. In my life-time, this has always been a nation where we’ve been able to freely express ourselves, where that freedom has been valued. We can agree to disagree. Respectfully. Without name-calling. Without the fear of suppression, retaliation and/or imprisonment. But I see that changing. Daily. And that, my friends, is cause for deep concern.
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NOTE: I welcome respectful conversation. That said, this is my personal blog and I moderate and screen all comments.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling