Opinion Editor's Note: Strib Voices publishes letters from readers daily online and in print. Click here to contribute.
Karen Tolkkinen’s December 11 article “When Minnesota is Not Welcome” resonated with me. I am a transgender business consultant who has spent time in northern and northern Minnesota on various occasions. I'm here to tell you that transphobic bigotry is alive and well outside of metropolitan areas. (Sure, there are plenty of bigots in the Twin Cities, but they seem to proliferate the further you go outside the metropolitan bubble.) This state and this country reach our society. There is still a long way to go until then. I finally learned that transgender people are not a danger to anyone. (And no matter what anti-trans people say, we don't attack or sexually abuse people in public restrooms. You're talking about pedophiles and other perverts, not transgender people.) I'm thinking.)
We ask for nothing more than to be left alone and live in peace. that's it. Is that an exaggeration, Minnesota? (This was a rhetorical question. Too much to ask, of course. We now live in an era of Donald Trump and other sleazy people who thrive on bigotry and cruelty.) (People are low-hanging fruit these days and bullies just like it) Either way, it can take the form of transphobia, racism, misogyny, homophobia, or other forms But it exists in our fair state. As we prepare to enter a dark dystopian era in this country's history, I encourage everyone to think about how we can be better instead of being bigots.
Vanessa Sheridan, Apple Valley
The truth is, eating a piece of lefse will keep you happy for the rest of the year. Since I couldn't make it to the Sons of Norway Bazaar near my home in Virginia this year, I ordered Mrs. Olson's Potato Lefse online. When it arrived, I realized the mistake. The package contained 4 packs of 6 sheets each.
I posted a message on a retirement community's listserv. I wrote “Lefse” in the subject line and announced, “I received Lefse, but it was more than I needed, so I'm happy to give away a 2-pack.” Please call me if you are interested. ” I was confident that one or two Norwegians would respond.
The first response came from a history buff. “I've never heard of it, but I was curious so I Googled it. It looks delicious,” he explained when he showed up at my door. “I want to know what this is.'' I watched him take his things and leave with a happy smile on his face. Another asked for a second pack and said when it arrived at my door: “We are not Norwegians!” We are Germans. But Mrs. Nelson down the street always made them for me, and we always had them at Christmas time. ” She also took her share and left happily.
