Nothing Greater (than the) North
Mapping Terrain: Nothing Greater (than the) North
Courtney Mackedanz
Though I cannot say with absolute certainty, I believe it is fair to deduce that young couples in love who wish to conceive, may be further encouraged to do so by the harsh hand of Minnesota’s winter. “Special as we humans are, we get no exemptions from the rules” (Manning, Richard. “The Oil We Eat.” Harpers Magazine Feb 2004.) And such rules of conduct during Minnesota blizzard season applied to my parents equally, and such is the case which I believe lead to my being in this world.
My existence was greatly shaped by my environment, as I suppose is true of most living creatures, but I believe especially that Minnesota instilled a strong foundation that wouldn’t have been forged otherwise. The beginning of my life took place in rural, and I mean ‘no-population-sign-one-church, three-bar, sixty-seven-cattle’ rural, Watkins, Minnesota. My entire yard was surrounded by neighbors’ farmland (I was never really aware of why our house stood as the only non farming land in the 3 square miles we lived) but I enjoyed the seclusion and the freedom to explore which it presented.
One of my earliest memories as a child was watching Disney’s’ “Pocahontas”, and remembering the scene when she would allow the wind to guide her, and she would run wherever it took her. As a young girl who desperately wanted to embody as much of my Disney idols as possible, I put on my Pocahontas arm band, proceeded to the center of one of any four corn fields which surrounded my yard, closed my eyes, and ran whichever direction the wind would guide me to…there were days when I would spend what seemed like hours running in the expansive plots of agricultural land, and I remember, even as a young girl, realizing that I was lucky to have the space and freedom to engage in this activity.
A few years later, after my parent’s no longer wished to share the cold winters with one another, my siblings and my father and I moved to what then felt like the city to me. Cold Spring, Minnesota. This town had an actual population sign which read “3,003” on one end of the city and “2,993” on the other end…and I wish I could say that residents of the community were interested in finding the truth about our population…but no one has expressed concern yet. Here, I was more aware of my neighbors, as we had moved into a ‘suburban-inspired’ housing development. There was much less space, and many fewer farmers, therefore our lifestyle changed. Open running, garden grown food, and annual fall harvesting was replaced by gridded cross country practice routes, SUPERVALU (the only grocery store in Cold Spring) and a weekly farmers market where my father and I enjoyed buying from the faces we recognized from our old community.
It may be needless to say, but from this move I really became aware of my connection with nature, and missed it greatly. Though I was still within a ten minutes drive of a forest, it became different when it was no longer within ten steps of my back door. But my personal distancing from nature had only begun.
After graduating from Cold Spring, I moved to a place that many of my friends from Watkins spoke of as a kind of Oz…Minneapolis, Minnesota-The city of lakes, and the best people in the world! I moved in order to begin studying visual art and dance at an art high school, where I would live communally in a dormitory on the acre campus of the school. George Kennan says, ““Energy cannot be created or canceled, but it can be concentrated. ” (Manning, Richard. “The Oil We Eat.” Harpers Magazine Feb 2004.) Which is exactly what I believe happened with the energy that had been present in me even as a young free-running girl. I began to explore living in an urban environment, and doing so relatively independently and I feel I learned a lot. Because it was ‘the city’ and so romantic to me at the time, I didn’t mind living in such close proximity to others…and especially because of the access I had to many great lakes and parks which the city of Minneapolis graciously offers to any who occupy it. I began to think more about groceries, as I was purchasing them myself for the first time, but it wasn’t such a major consideration as I had a meal plan which I relied on as my skills in cooking were not forced to be improved yet.
After graduating there I took time away from school when I revisited Cold Spring, Minnesota, as well as traveled for a short period in Europe and a longer period in the United States. My consideration of physical environment and food grew even more so as I became aware of the different life styles lived by those who were in different circumstances than I, for example, in England, in a small village called Hinton Charter House, I lived with a family who grew much of their own food because they didn’t travel to town often enough to get the fresh produce they would need to survive. And in Seattle, Washington I spent time living in a vegan household learning about the health threats of meat and dairy…and though I haven’t incorporated their knowledge into my own food practices, it was a worthwhile experience.
And finally, I’ve found myself in Chicago, Illinois. More than anything here I am aware of my absolute separation from nature. Though I think my growing process has escalated slowly, I do not believe I was prepared for the shift between urban living in Chicago and urban living in Minneapolis, but I know that my eyes will soften of the skyline the more time I spend with it. I miss the ability to run freely, and miss being able to recognize the faces and the places my food came from…but there is a value to this environment because I am being exposed to the concepts and ideas which will help me to consider more thoughtfully the choices that I make in food and my environment in whichever direction I choose to go next. And I suppose another thing I can say with fair certainty is that if I would close my eyes and run the way I would as a child as the adult I’ve become now…the wind would still carry me north.
MINNESOTA!
