Feeling MN
Sure, we are built for this. But so are you.
What’s happening in Minnesota right now is historic. Living in Minnesota, with it, through it, is surreal.
There’s a very strange simultaneous urge, at once to be seen and witnessed by the world for what’s being done to us and the work we’re doing against it, balanced by the hope that you’ll all just go away and leave us alone. We just want to winter in peace.
If by small chance you don’t know what I’m talking about, your hibernation is too deep for this year. Please awaken.
As more and more people are stirring to these American events happening in our streets, I find strangers on social media wondering about Minnesota, seeking to understand both the reason and the response. They marvel at our community aid, our organizing of support, and the way we show up for each other. Honestly, I’m still a bit weirded out how that’s novel to most of the country. So steeped are we, I guess.
When 75,000 of us showed up on Friday in subzero temps, in air that is trying to kill you, it was inspiring. Even to us, the boots on the ground. It was more than an economic strike, more than some clergy-led civil disobedience at the airport. It was the candle we lit for ourselves and the world. The videos that played out that night, reaching many lands, were meant to give hope that none of us are alone in this. But make no mistake, there was no one there in that moment who went home that night, tucked themselves in self-satisfyingly with ok great we made content and did the thing! Most of us went to bed early. Ready.
Plenty has been said about our Viking heritage and how you don’t invade a winter people in winter. They admire our aim with snowballs, our sure-footedness that certain others lack. People have been so stirred by our physical presence and resolve amidst the darkest coldest days that they have written poems about us. Of course we love that as much as we love telling you not only about our boots, but which pair of boots are the right ones for any day at hand.
But there’s a vital part of this that people need to understand.
There’s a thing that happens when we get our first real cold day in Minnesota, usually in November. It’s not that we haven’t wrapped ourselves in fleece and flannel while reveling all fall, but when that first real snap of a day shows up in stick season, when there’s nothing left to blow off of trees, the icy wind nips in under your collar triggering your shoulders to hunch up under your ears. That simple but familiar reflex opens a creaky door in your mind and suddenly the amnesia lifts: oh yeah, this.
It’s like you recall who you really are.
That first miserable slough of grey skies and sub-5 degree days truly changes you, on a deeply dark molecular level. This is the priming, you come out of it cured to what’s ahead. Those first days of shivering give way to days where you wonder if you even need a coat at 20 degrees. Even the re-tingle of frostbit toes is just a reminder of tours past (and if you don’t think we wear those like a badge, I dare you to ask any of us.) But this has nothing to do with Nordic blood in your veins or where you were born, this is about time served.
Because all of this is a choice.
It’s a dreadful pact we choose, along with this place and its people. We pay forward, sacrificing warmth, convenience, and comfort for strength, creativity, and community. These are not survival skills foisted upon us, these are the gifts bestowed when you live in concert with your surroundings … be they ancient waters or modern people.
We speak change. We are not perfect, but we allow ourselves to learn, to witness and be reformed season after season. If there’s anything others can learn from us, I hope it’s that. The landscape has trained us that adaptation to hardship is not submission, it’s mastery of self.
None of this is actually special to us, others can make these choices. Yesterday, the day following our 75,000 strong neighborhood block party, we were faced with another new day, another new heart-break, another hardship. To say we are tired after months of this is a truth I can’t convey searingly enough. But we are not spent. Instead of retreating, we pushed forward in so many ways large and small, obvious and subtle, public and underground. This is as much a part of our routine now as salting our driveways. Teachers protecting their students, wine moms working the food shelves, watchers standing guard behind restaurants, uber drivers giving free rides to workers, nurses protecting their neighbors. We are locked in, because we remember what comes after.
The fear, the brutality, all of it is wasted. You can’t break people who choose to live half of their life in darkness and adversity, like the children of Persephone. We have always been taught to look for the days ahead and make them worth fighting for. Not just for us.
The way to battle the darkness is with light, so last night our neighborhoods were lit up with candles and bonfires and people bringing each other soup and reforming the lines. When I see on social media that many, many people around the world did the same last night, in honor of sacrifice, I believe that we are all starting to see the real choice that a winter’s people have shown you.
The pact is that you will endure, together.
You will not let the pain be the last thing.
It’s why we will always rise to fight through another day.
It’s why we will win.
If you want to support our work to sustain our neighbors, find many good resources at Stand With MN.
I keep reading that people feel powerless and wonder if they should come to MN to join the fight. All I can say, is that if you are called to be here, only you can know if that’s right.
BUT what would be amazing and wonderful would be to see actions of support in your own communities, you can keep Minnesota in your heart wherever you live. Start by helping your own neighbors, people are in need everywhere. Form your support systems, not just because this could happen anywhere, but because a stronger link of communities that values each other will make this shit unviable in the long run. That is the reforming of the America you want.
Make the days ahead worth fighting for.
hey picklers i didn’t name some names so that when you share this it can still catch traction and not be flagged by certain gross-boi tech. but say their names. repeat these stories to your people. be the beacon.
So beautifully written Stephanie. Thank you. I have lived in MN all but 5 years of my 66 years on this earth. Never could I have imagined that we would see this happen in our state and country. We are strong and will unite together to overcome this hatred, cruelty and lawlessness. May our example ignite a flame in others to follow suit.
I got a tear reading this Stephanie … you are a light during these dark times. I’ve lived in MN all my life - I am not only outraged at the brutality but sickened by the coverup by the Fed Gov & lies/character assassination of the victims.