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Karen Tolkkinen’s Dec. 11 article, “When greater Minnesota isn’t welcoming,” resonated with me. I’m a transgender business consultant who has spent time in greater and northern Minnesota on various occasions. I’m here to tell you that transphobic bigotry is alive and well outside the metro area. (There are also plenty of bigots in the Twin Cities, to be sure, but they seem to proliferate the further one goes outside the bubble of the metro area.) This state and this nation have a long, long way to go before our society finally learns that trans people pose no danger to anyone. (And we don’t attack or molest people in public restrooms, no matter what trans opponents may try to tell you. You’re thinking of pedophiles and other perverts, not transgender people.)
We don’t ask anything other than to be left alone and to live our lives in peace. That’s it. Is that too much to ask, Minnesota? (That was a rhetorical question. Of course it’s too much to ask. We are now living in the era of Donald Trump and other vulgarians who thrive on bigotry and cruelty. Trans people are low-hanging fruit these days, and bullies just love to punch down at the most vulnerable in our society.) In any case, my thanks to Tolkkinen for calling attention to the blatant bigotry — whether it’s transphobia, racism, misogyny, homophobia or any other form it may take — that exists in our fair state. As we prepare to enter a dark, dystopian time in the nation’s history, I encourage everyone to think about how we can be better, not bigots.
Vanessa Sheridan, Apple Valley
HOLIDAY SPIRIT
Some things are better shared
The truth is, one piece of lefse will keep me happy for the rest of the year. This year I couldn’t go to the Sons of Norway Bazaar near my home in Virginia, so I ordered Mrs. Olson’s Potato Lefse online. When it arrived, I realized I’d made a mistake. The package contained four packs with six sheets each.
I put out a message on our retirement community’s listserv. I wrote “Lefse” in the subject line and announced, “I’ve received some lefse, but more than I need, and am happy to give away two packs. Please call me if interested.” I was confident that one or two Norwegians would respond.
The first reply came from a history buff: “I’ve never heard of it, but I’m a curious person, so I googled it. It sounds delicious.” When he showed up at my door he explained, “I want to know what this is.” I saw him leave with his pack and a happy smile. Another person asked for the second pack and said when she arrived at my door, “We’re not Norwegian! We’re German. But Mrs. Nelson up the street always made it and we always had it at Christmas time.” She, too, left happily with her portion.