By Diane Wilson ● 2022
The Oceti Sakowin, or Seven Council Fires, which includes the Dakota, Lakota, and Nakota peoples, carry an origin story that teaches the sacred nature of water. This relationship is embedded
By Ty Chapman ● 2022
At fifteen, I watched a cop shove a child down concrete school steps, his body flailing between impacts. His skull battered to fragments. Crimson rivering down a well-ironed shirt.
By Dr. Margaret Ponder Lovejoy, EdD ● 2022
Rondo Avenue moved. The main artery gave life, commitment, and courage to the community. Everything on wheels—bicycles, cars, streetcars, and trucks—used Rondo Avenue. The activity was constant. The energy was
By Mikkel Beckmen ● 2022
“Flora or Fauna, we are all shapeshifters and magical re-inventors. Life is really a plural noun, a caravan of selves.” – Diane Ackerman Mid-way along my thru hike of the
By Tanaǧidaŋ To Wiŋ ● 2022
When we left our quiet townhome in Inver Grove Heights to move to our first home on the Eastside, as a mother of two young men I was extremely nervous.
By Roberto Sande Carmona ● 2019
Tengo un headache. Maybe it’s the combinación de lenguas en my head, on the billboards (espectaculares, dice mi abi), y en las conversations of people pasando por Cesar Chavez Street.
Art by Patricia Olson
By Joan Maeda Trygg ● 2017
SAINT PAUL IS MY HOME. I am made of the water and air of this place. I am accustomed to the short urban horizon, to the slant of sun that
Hi there! Everyone talks about the good old days—how they used to be—what a difference from today. Remember when gas was 25¢ a gallon? And cigarettes 26¢ a box with a 1¢ tax? Wow!
Pig’s Eye Island owes its name to a nineteenth-century trader, Pig’s Eye Parrant, who sold liquor and guns along the Mississippi’s watery highway.
Conceived, born, and raised in Green Bay, Wisconsin—that’s me, Paul Vincent Bartlett, a (displaced) cheesehead. And not of your typical Wisconsin lineage.
I grew up in the Dale-Selby neighborhood of Saint Paul. To be more exact, we lived in the upstairs of a duplex just off the corner of Dayton and St. Albans, one block from Dale and one block from Selby.
Art by Maya Rose
By Martin Devaney ● 2016
Where I first put my arm around you. Clad in red coats and autumn hats, we walked from the Farmers’ Market, bags of basil in hand, then arm in arm. The dog waited.