The beauty of locality is in the eye of the beholder. - 11 views

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  #1 Fredric Markus on 24 Jun 08

   

  Plunging right in to the relative merits of local production:
  
  When the City of Minneapolis was keen to clearcut everything on Nicollet Island at the end of the 1960s, we Islanders were an inventive sort and used the familiar concept of "flower power" to demonstrate our collective willingness to care for the Island on behalf of the common good of those who were not privileged to live in our very midst.
  
  "Let a Hundred Flowers Bloom" was not an empty slogan for us. Our community food garden plots, the ornamental garden spots we established and maintained around the perimeter of the North Tip of the Island, the pathways and stairways we constructed for the convenience of the countless passersby of all ages and conditions were tangible symbols of our care for the landform and its inhabitants in the spirit both of the notion of the commons and of the unique significance of Nicollet Island in the history of the Cities of Minneapolis and St. Anthony and before that as a place of spiritual significance to the original inhabitants who had been cruelly shunted aside by the expansion of the "American" frontier.
  
  We grew food in sufficient quantity to be able at one point to give away home-canned goods to the people who ate in Brother De Paul's soup line on Hennepin Ave. A very reluctant Minneapolis Housing and Redevelopment Authority installed us in a storefront on the avenue and we made good use of this resource while it lasted. Everything we said or did was admittedly transitory but we made sure that the larger society in our vicinity got a good look at the parochial atmosphere of our riverine community.We maintained two donkeys (Pearl and Sheba), some goats and geese and a neurotic banty rooster that proved impossible to manage to everyone's satisfaction. There was a motley lot of dogs, cats, pet mice, an occasional bird on the mend, and a pampered piglet that served as a screening element when people began to get serious about buying units in the restored Grove St. Flats and the companion multiunit built from scratch nearby on West lsland Ave.
  
  The challenge we Islanders saw was to persuade the larger government that Nicollet Island was precious for cultural and historical reasons as a keystone element in the St. Anthony Falls Historic District. We needed and eventually succeeded in establishing the premise that this Island and its riverine vicinity would only prosper as part of the urban commons if there were residents to care for it. Not as trophy residents who could apply their wealth and enclose the Island in a gated community, but as individuals and families who understood the nature of sharing and of collective responsibility in part by having been counseled in these matters by elderly residents of the Island who would have been swept away without notice had the government been left to its pernicious and really thoughtess intentions.
  
  This is much too complex and intriguing a narrative to dwell on just now, but should one take occasion to explore the areas between the Stone Arch Bridge and the Plymouth Ave Bridge, one can see that many, many people have left their mark on this District and continue to benefit from its gentle ambiance.

   

  <div class="cArrow"> </div><div class="cContentInner">Plunging right in to the relative merits of local production: <br /> <br /> When the City of Minneapolis was keen to clearcut everything on Nicollet Island at the end of the 1960s, we Islanders were an inventive sort and used the familiar concept of "flower power" to demonstrate our collective willingness to care for the Island on behalf of the common good of those who were not privileged to live in our very midst. <br /> <br /> "Let a Hundred Flowers Bloom" was not an empty slogan for us. Our community food garden plots, the ornamental garden spots we established and maintained around the perimeter of the North Tip of the Island, the pathways and stairways we constructed for the convenience of the countless passersby of all ages and conditions were tangible symbols of our care for the landform and its inhabitants in the spirit both of the notion of the commons and of the unique significance of Nicollet Island in the history of the Cities of Minneapolis and St. Anthony and before that as a place of spiritual significance to the original inhabitants who had been cruelly shunted aside by the expansion of the "American" frontier. <br /> <br /> We grew food in sufficient quantity to be able at one point to give away home-canned goods to the people who ate in Brother De Paul's soup line on Hennepin Ave. A very reluctant Minneapolis Housing and Redevelopment Authority installed us in a storefront on the avenue and we made good use of this resource while it lasted. Everything we said or did was admittedly transitory but we made sure that the larger society in our vicinity got a good look at the parochial atmosphere of our riverine community.We maintained two donkeys (Pearl and Sheba), some goats and geese and a neurotic banty rooster that proved impossible to manage to everyone's satisfaction. There was a motley lot of dogs, cats, pet mice, an occasional bird on the mend, and a pampered piglet that served as a screening element when people began to get serious about buying units in the restored Grove St. Flats and the companion multiunit built from scratch nearby on West lsland Ave. <br /> <br /> The challenge we Islanders saw was to persuade the larger government that Nicollet Island was precious for cultural and historical reasons as a keystone element in the St. Anthony Falls Historic District. We needed and eventually succeeded in establishing the premise that this Island and its riverine vicinity would only prosper as part of the urban commons if there were residents to care for it. Not as trophy residents who could apply their wealth and enclose the Island in a gated community, but as individuals and families who understood the nature of sharing and of collective responsibility in part by having been counseled in these matters by elderly residents of the Island who would have been swept away without notice had the government been left to its pernicious and really thoughtess intentions. <br /> <br /> This is much too complex and intriguing a narrative to dwell on just now, but should one take occasion to explore the areas between the Stone Arch Bridge and the Plymouth Ave Bridge, one can see that many, many people have left their mark on this District and continue to benefit from its gentle ambiance.</div>

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