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I grew up in a small town in Minnesota. A far cry of city life, my hometown as I remember it was a flat expanse of dairy farms, parks and cornfields. As I grew up, the landscape began to change from rural to suburban. I prefer to remember it as it was, not as it is now: full of chain restaurants, parking lots and cookie-cutter housing developments. I remember the uproar that ensued when a Super Target was built, putting our local family grocer (Maus Foods) out of business. There are a few things we still have going for us, however: good public schools, a tight-knit community and prime location on the Mississippi River--the focal point of every community gathering (Art in the Park), festival (Riverfest) and tradition (Rubber Duck Races). Despite the suburbanizing effect of urban sprawl that has turned Monticello's charming little Main Street into just another strip mall, we have so far managed to retain certain deep-seated local traditions that draw the entire community together: Homecoming football games, Firehall Street Dances, the church Fall Festival, chicken dinners and Miss Monticello coronations in the park by the River.

The funny thing about growing up in a small-ish town like mine is the way in which an excursion to the city was seen as such an event! My dad--a goldsmith--worked for a jewelry store in Minneapolis, and though he had a shop at our house where he worked during the week, on Saturdays he had to drive into the city to drop off and pick up jobs for make and repair. When I was young, every Saturday was an opportunity for my sisters and I to ride along and see 'the Cities' (a name affectionately given to the Twin Cities, and part of the everyday vocabulary of Minnesotans). On these excursions we mainly enjoyed the city through a car window, but it was thrilling nevertheless. As I got older, there was always talk of going to the Cities amongst my High School friends. When we were old enough to drive, hanging out in the Cities unsupervised was like a rite of passage: a level of freedom and excitement that simply couldn't be had in Monticello.

It is strange to think that growing up I was all at once removed from and entrenched in the urban landscape of Minneapolis-St.Paul. Also strange is that now I often find myself telling people I am from Minneapolis. I do this mainly for sake of ease (saying to a stranger that I am from Monticello, Minnesota only welcomes blank stares), but still I find it interesting that of all the places I could identify (Minneapolis, St. Paul, Monticello, the Twin Cities) I choose to say Minneapolis. Everyone in Minnesota seems to prefer either Minneapolis or Saint Paul--it depends, I suppose, on what draws you to the Cities (be it museums, restaurants, parks, sporting events, shopping, the Lakes, concerts, the U of M, the State Fair). But it also has much to do with where your family has the closest ties. On these Saturday drives, my dad used to make detours in order to show us the Minneapolis he remembers: the apartment building he grew up in, the home of my great aunt, his High School, the places he would go to cause trouble with his friends. I think these stories, even more than my love of the Minneapolis skyline, make me identify more with Minneapolis than with Saint Paul.