Cold Reception

So, who on earth is Charles Bowden anyway? And what in heck could he possibly know about North Dakota?

That’s a pretty common sentiment from indignant North Dakotans upset about “The Emptied Prairie” article published this month in National Geographic. The article, subtitled, “North Dakota ghost towns speak of an irreversible decline,” was accompanied by pictures as compelling as the story, itself. But, similarly, what could that photographer, Eugene Richards, know?

Ambassadors of North Dakota have championed the cause. We’re mad as hell and we are not going to take it anymore. Or something like that.

Even our governor has written National Geographic, he and God knows how many others, somehow hoping a tide of criticism of the magazine feature would diminish the message carried therein.

Truth be told, Bowden’s article is beautifully crafted and insightful. While critics say he overlooked all the good things happening in North Dakota, after reading it we cannot say that is a correct assessment.

That some want to attack the messenger is nothing less than an emotional over-reaction to an outsider’s interpretation of the state of rural life in North Dakota.

It’s not polite to point out the elephant in the living room, not when those present have a certain sense of guilt for the elephant being there in the first place.

What do others know of Midwestern Polite, anyway? Obviously very little.

And how good are North Dakotans at swallowing hard truths? Obviously not very.

The National Geographic article provides a compelling look into a sweeping cultural ebb and flow of change that has continued practically forever. Basically, folks here are adapting to the land, if they are still here. The amazing fact that there are so few people here, and that our numbers have been plummeting for generations, is anomalously interesting in light of a world busting at the seams with overpopulation practically everywhere but here.

Granted, the National Geographic article was about rural North Dakota. That our rural regions have been emptying out is no secret. Just ask the thousands of people new to our larger cities where they are from and you’ll have your answer. That our rural culture has failed at basic self-sufficiency is somewhat suggestive of failure on our part.

That we get all upset when outsiders give us critical feedback is a trait we need to work on. If a teacher giving a graduation speech out east chides North Dakota, we turn it into a statewide cause to tell him what’s what. If a national magazine portrays our rural depopulation in words and pictures, we turn it into cause celebre.

We do have an aging population. We do have out migration problems. We do have an emptying-out rural environment. We do have ghost towns, empty farmsteads, and vacant schools and churches.

But we also have pride, and however nicely National Geographic said it, our feelings were hurt. And that’s just not a nice thing to do.

Deathly Cold

First, to start our winter season off, a man was found frozen to death in a bus shelter in Moorhead. Then, a man was found this week frozen to death at the base of the steps to the Catholic bishop’s residence in Downtown Fargo.

Meanwhile, the new homeless shelter that allows folks in who’ve been drinking will not be open until sometime in February.

It’s heartbreaking.

While there is no indication anybody could have done anything to have saved the lives of these two men in our community, both instances serve as a reminder that some poor souls pay a price to merely exist that is absolutely incomprehensible to the general population.

It must be so lonely to be walking on the streets of our state’s largest city in the middle of a below-zero January night. No place to go. No one around to notice. No hope.

The new shelter cannot come fast enough, but we still have jobs to do if and when we see brothers and sisters in trouble and in jeopardy.