Last autumn, I walked with my husband along the Mississippi River in downtown Minneapolis, savouring the last blaze of autumn colours. The air was crisp, and the sidewalks buzzed with weekend crowds soaking up the eclectic vibe.
I remember saying, “It’s great to see the city alive again.” The pandemic and George Floyd’s killing had devastated downtown; the area was almost deserted when we first arrived in February 2022. That’s why watching recent events unfold from afar has been so painful.
Minneapolis was my home for four years. There’s a popular term there – “Minnesota Nice” – which may suggest surface amiability, but that’s mistaken. People there were nice to the core – kind, considerate, and hospitable. Folks who avoid swearing in public.
Winters are harsh – often plunging to minus 20, but Minnesotans rarely stay indoors. When the lake froze thick enough, a host of activities opened up. People took to Ice fishing, and families created pond rinks for kids’ hockey.
I’ve mourned recent scenes of chaos and distress, from streets just like the ones I strolled down a few short months ago. The death of award-winning poet Renee Nicole Good, known as a resilient, compassionate, and loving person. A young mother simply collecting her child from primary school. A senseless loss.
Friends from Minneapolis hesitate to talk about what’s happening. People are careful now about what they say to neighbours. I chatted though with a good friend, J, who lives just outside the city, and she told me about community efforts to organize deliveries of food and other essentials and give rides to neighbours.
She shared a friend’s post from social media saying, “Today I had the privilege of purchasing a carload of food and toiletries for those in my city too scared to leave their homes.”
It continued, “These items were purchased with donations from dear friends from all over the country. Over $1500. Despite the hell, sadness and utter disbelief, people are still good.”
She added, “It was the one silver lining for me. Yes, there’s a lot of just awful stuff going on in our city right now, but hearing that my friend was taking resources to people made it somehow more bearable – and gave me hope that this is something we’re going to be able to overcome.”
(Image credit: Alamy)
It’s clear the natural female instinct to solidarity – just like here during the pandemic – is a big driver for many of my female friends in Minneapolis.
“The huge protests, the different stories of people you know, this call to arms – helping people leaving the detention centres, going into abandoned homes and rescuing pets, random ways that people just thought of to help – I think, at least temporarily, that lifts spirits. I think people like the idea of Minneapolis coming together,” J says.
Like me, J has experienced feelings of guilt about carrying on life as normal. “I’m still doing my thing. I’ll text friends about pickleball or going out to dinner this weekend. Our lives just carry on, but you have this overwhelming sense of, ‘what else can I do?’” she says.
(Image credit: Roberta Twidale)
For me, Minnesota was a transformational experience. It brought out my creative side – I did life drawing classes with a neighbour and learned how to make sourdough and pasta from scratch – I became a more friendly and open person.
Recent events have demonstrated the steely resilience that forms the foundation of Minnesota Nice. These people know that to love your neighbour isn’t always an easy option. I returned permanently to my home in the UK at Christmas, but the connections I made and the lessons learned in four years in Minneapolis will stay with me for life.
Five ways to support friends from afar
- Send a care package. Fill a box with meaningful treats. Don’t break the bank – choose items that have personal resonance, a postcard from a place you visited together with a handwritten note, a book you’ve read, you know your friend will enjoy, print-outs of photos of the two of you together, a secret recipe you’ve never shared.
- Send a voice note. Instead of texts, send voice notes with no pressure to reply. So much more personal, and perfect when time zones make live call scheduling tricky.
- Make a ‘mixtape’ (playlist). Put together all the songs you both love and add a few more.
- Handwrite a letter. There’s something very meaningful about receiving hand-written correspondence when it’s so easy to fire off a quick text message. It shows you made time to sit down and really think about your friend.
- Create shared moments IRL. A smartphone can really bring people together even when separated by ga reat distance. Plan a video call for joint sourdough making, take a walk together, stream a favourite romcom together. Oh, and that mixtape you made – why not make it a shared playlist you can both add to?
