A Letter to the Editor: Thank you to a small town that saved me
My name is Angela George, and I live in Canistota.
My family and I have called this place home since the summer of 2019, when I took my oldest son, then five years old, to his first baseball practice. He was oblivious and I was terrified as we introduced ourselves to new faces, new street corners, and Hawks gear in black and orange.
But then a fellow mother sat me down on the bleachers that faced the sunset and she smiled at me like I was an old friend till I became one. It was what home was supposed to feel like, and I relaxed into a sense of comfort that this was going to be ours.
This summer, my family and I are leaving Canistota for a new future that awaits, but before we pack up and the nostalgia sets in, I want to say thank you to a community that was home for a little while.
We moved to Canistota in haste, a small town west of a bigger town that we were more comfortable in.
There were no street lights, but it was quieter here, our hearts were warmer here – the way you feel at a family dinner – and, above all, it was a private refuge during a divorce and a very scary life change, but it unexpectedly became my safe space over the next five years.
More safe than the reason anyone moves to a small town in the first place, safe in a way no one even knew they were hiding me.
“This little town became my safe space. More safe than the reason anyone moves to a small town in the first place, safe in a way no one even knew they were hiding me. ”
I remember feeling panicked: Why did we come here? I feel so alone. Are my boys going to be ok with all this change at once? But neighbors and families and teachers and coaches – a community unmatched in their unconditional acceptance and love – they just kept showing up and invited us over for dinner and tea and hide-and-seek on the farm.
They didn’t pry or judge or scold, or laugh or condemn or shun us away back into any asylum of doubt. They welcomed us – the way you’re supposed to love another.
As my kids grew and as our house on the bluff became a home, the school invited us to music concerts, Monday night board meetings and to help with concessions at the volleyball games. We could join the kids for lunch, and there were always three chairs waiting for us at parent-teacher conferences: One for me, and two for their dads. We were a co-parenting family that was embraced so tightly, it felt as if they knew to protect us even more than we knew we needed it.
All together, we were infallible, undamaged, and loved.
My entire life and future – as well as that of my children – shifted tremendously within this little town. But we transitioned gently – like a feather in the wind, not a rock to the windshield – because it was a steady, reliable corner of the world to begin trusting myself and trusting the people around me, without anyone knowing I was exhaling.
I broke and healed while they were across the street picking cucumbers from their gardens or picking up their kids after school, too, their mere presence the net they weaved under me as I free-falled into something different.
Our lives are never unchanging. There will always be unexpected newness, a need for a friend more than you might admit.
But this is how a community rescues, this is how you are saved: You take your kids to the pool, you wave to the neighbor who’s walking her dog, you go to the football game, and you treat everyone like an old friend. The rest will carry you.
This town is not unlike any other small town, but it has been mine. Thank you, Canistota, for loving us so well. What a wonderful, beautiful community we will miss.
Originally published as a Letter to the Editor in The Special.
Opinion column: How to show up for marathon runners
My sister runs marathons, and I cry every time.
I cry for the privilege to watch her determination prevail – I can’t imagine how much resilience that must have taken on quiet morning runs alone.
I cry when I see her cry in pain but then raise her arms at the finish line anyway and throw her body to the ground.
Like any challenge, why would we leave anything left?
But I tear up, too, for all the runners who surround her.
I’ve seen spectators propose to their runner at the finish line. I saw a sign once that said, “Sweetie, I’m pregnant! Keep going! You’re going to be a dad!” and another sign from a spectator, “When your feet get tired, run with your heart.”
That’s all you see this weekend at the annual Sioux Falls Marathon, a race with heart that’ll wind through Falls Park, downtown, around the trails and through our neighborhoods on early Sunday morning. You won’t be able to miss them, they’ll be herding everywhere, and we should be, too.
Marathons are a supreme showcase of perseverance in the runner and fellowship from the community. No one’s mad watching a marathon. Even the exhausted runner himself, in absolute frustration that it’s getting harder and harder, is swelling in hope because everyone is watching him. This is so thoughtful, he thinks as he sees us around the corner. So many people are here.
Can you imagine if we were not there to clap?
In one of my sister’s races, she got to our meeting spot faster than I thought, so when I parked and could already see her already passing by, I ran to her screaming and waving so at that point every runner looked. “I see you!” I said. “You’re doing great!” I yelled. “Amazing job!” We made eye contact for enough seconds that she lit up the way a child does when she finally spots her mom in the crowd at the Christmas concert.
What a face. What a relief to see support.
Jerry Palleschi, project director of the Sioux Falls Sports Authority hosting the race, says they expect nearly 2,000 runners this weekend, despite the heat. Although many are local, participants come in from all over the U.S. and even the world. Some are checking off South Dakota to run a marathon in every state, some come because of our beloved route and views, and some visit because of us, the crowd that shows up.
As a spectator, most every runner on our course this weekend will be a stranger to you. But not on Sunday morning.
Suddenly they are your child, your best friend, your neighbor or your teacher from high school, and all you want for that runner is for them to know you are proud, you are inspired by their physical power and you want for them to succeed.
When they run past you on the bike trail or at Rotary or Tuthill or Sertoma parks, they are on their way toward a medal, to a personal record, to their first finish line ever or maybe their last. We might not know why they are running – there must be so many private goals or inspirations – but we do know they need us.
And so be there. Make a sign, ring a cowbell, blow a whistle, clap and woo, yell for them like you are their coach on the sideline. And, as a tip, show up somewhere near the latter half of the race on the west side of the route. Mentally, everything gets tough toward the end. But, just like all of us, they need to keep going.
We may not know what a 20th mile on foot feels like or how to endure chafing or shin splints, but we do know how hard a challenge can punch, and, of course, the rally of a community spirit always helps. Be the community. Be the boost we all need. Be the advocate as they strive for something big in their life. Be the friend who’s there, and wave.
Let’s get out there.
Originally published in the Argus Leader in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.
Opinion column: How leadership events empower our community
Our community is ripe with a sense of empowerment. If you are here, don’t plan to stagnate. Here, we grow, and we’re just getting started.
The Sioux Falls Development Foundation, StartUp Sioux Falls, Leadership Sioux Falls, the Sioux Falls Area Community Foundation, Forward Sioux Falls and many other local hubs exist to invest in businesses and community leaders who can helm change and inspire us to feel good about what’s next. These organizations foster inclusion for overlooked minorities in our community so we can all feel equally capable to drive this community forward.
Here, we are forever young. Cough cough goes the contagious gusto in the room.
In our local financial landscape, Brooke Fitts, with First International Bank and Trust, is breaking through and getting noticed (as is often the case with our banking and healthcare leaders in Sioux Falls).
After 20 years in FinTech, Fitts was selected to join the RiseUp Academy, a global leadership cohort of women in finance who will network and build relationships with one another during Money 20/20, a global financial conference in Las Vegas. She will head out there next month to connect with like-minded, emerging female leaders.
RiseUp is a yearlong cohort but an infinite network Fitts can continue to learn from and gauge how her team here is performing compared to others in the global space. With this program, she can be the messenger, bringing to Sioux Falls ideas on how to keep up in banking.
Fitts has worked with many FinTech startups for over the past 20 years—FinTech being a use of technology in banking. She is now head of payment products and strategy for Kotapay, a payments division within FIBT that serves more than 2.5 million employees worldwide. At Money 20/20, she will also help to launch a new platform affording banks to mitigate oversight more accordingly.
A path to growth is never linear, and trailblazers must know this.
Brooke has always pushed the boundaries in the financial industry. She says her career path is “close to her heart” after humble beginnings issuing prepaid cards to underserved communities over 20 years ago. “Every dollar matters,” she says. “This means that our financial health is right there next to the importance of healthcare.”
Because of this awareness both in our community and worldwide, Brooke is unafraid and eager to introduce a tech presence within an industry that was otherwise operating under archaic manual products. If financial wellbeing is paramount to living well, then we need to keep up. She is a pioneer in this mindset.
Like many of our powerhouses in Sioux Falls, Brooke’s work inspires a willingness to grow, a mindset of adaptation that is not scary but liberating. There is no fear to be felt, she urges, only an excitement of what’s to come. Brooke’s work and presence—both in banking and in our community—can make you feel like anything is possible, and that we’re all going to make it. Forge ahead, her quick-paced demeanor says. We have work to do!
“I am someone who thrives on being responsible for innovation and being on the cutting edge of what FinTechs are bringing into the space,” she says. “(The RiseUp program) is an opportunity to connect with people who are creating that kind of real impact.”
If you are going to lead, you must mentor, too. Brooke is not just in the office—or in Las Vegas meeting people for us—she mentors female professionals on behalf of EmBe’s Women’s Leadership Program, she participates in Power Lunches at local middle schools and serves at Call to Freedom, safe housing and counseling for victims of trafficking.
The biggest need she sees? Mentees want a guide to navigate their career landscapes and tools to build their confidence. They want to be like their mentor and participate in our growing community.
“Sioux Falls is an underrated gem when it comes to a community that wants to lift people up,” Fitts says. “I am blessed to be part of a community that wants to elevate one another.”
How do you rise up your fellow community members?
Let’s get out there.
Originally published in the Argus Leader in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.
My first column: Let’s get out there to support community
I was 22 years old when I first had a desk at the Argus Leader, joining the night desk as a copy editor.
It was May of 2005, but I quickly learned I had to always dress like it was January. I’m pretty sure every newsroom is cold.
I had just graduated from college — as in the leftover slices from my graduation cake were still in the fridge — and my desk had a fish on it named Emmie Dash. I was so thrilled to be there, so proud and eager, and that is how I feel as I return today.
Back then, the newsroom was so crowded, I had to squeeze into a corner of the night desk, near Pat and Nathaniel, Tim and Melissa and Todd.
These were the ones who pulled out menus from their desk drawers every Saturday night to enjoy take-out together in the conference room (which also had the sink and the microwave and where they often hosted surprise wedding showers and baby showers and, less often, farewells).
On the Fourth of July, we would sneak onto the roof to watch the fireworks, and on most weeknights, we’d take turns hosting poker nights after we read through first run around 11:30 p.m.
It was an absolute heyday, having a byline and incredibly talented editors and a seat in most afternoon meetings. What an honor it is to be a journalist.
Today, a lot has changed for me and for you. This community now has veteran journalists – many of whom are dear former colleagues I was privileged to work with – who have commenced many other news platforms for our community, while my new Argus Leader colleagues continue to be proudly among these gallant publications.
From what I see in this quaint office that still looks and smells like any newsroom would – there’s got to be take-out menus here somewhere – these reporters work harder than ever before and support one another in ways only a small team can do.
No matter the hustle, they show up, and I’m inspired by this young team.
I would like to say this loudly: The Argus Leader is still here, and I feel honored to have joined a family who is honored to maintain dedication to its readership and investment in its community.
For my beat, I intend to cover events, culture, and trending activities in our Sioux Falls community, and I hope to use this weekly column as a space to not only encourage you to get out and enjoy those things, but to share why I think that matters and to immerse myself into a thriving culture as much as I want you to.
I’ll start with this weekend, when the Barb Iverson Skate Park is alas opening, Palisades State Park will open 77 new campsites, there is still a new lion at the zoo, there will be a tribute to Queen at the Pav, and downtown will host a walking tour on the history and best restaurants to support.
I find it encouraging that a local skate park will welcome professional skaters while a local state park has more than tripled in size for families to keep hiking and roasting marshmallows. Must you need any other type of weekend to validate how splendid and flourishing is your home?
I am a romantic, and there are always pain points of course, but our culture here just keeps getting better, because we work together to make it so.
What a treasure we have here. Keep going!
I am so proud to return to local journalism, and I am grateful for the newsroom family who first inspired me 20 years ago. Just as news is a constant for every community, so, too, is a journalist’s unabated fervor to cover it.
Let’s get out there.
Originally published in the Argus Leader in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.
Opinion column: ‘Bluey’ is an emotional ride for families
My family and I sold our home this past spring.
We’re now enduring the whole bit – building a new one, moving to a new town, the kids starting a new school and the parents starting new jobs. I’m surprised there’s not a second dog in the mix here.
My two boys are ages 7 and 10, still childlike enough that I naively didn’t think this big shake would haunt them as much as it did.
I thought maybe my older one would have a difficult time leaving friends – and he still does – but it was my younger one who took such an emotional blow.
Parenthood is like that, mocking you for thinking you have the kids all figured out.
I had heard there was a new “Bluey” episode around the time we were moving – not another 7-minute episode like most the others, but a 28-minute season finale that had both parents and children needing a Kleenex.
Family time! A nice distraction from stress! I swooned.
We did the baths and put on the pajamas and popped the popcorn and then hopped into bed to watch yet another fantastic episode with Bluey and Bingo, Bandit and Chilli. But was it?
“Bluey” is an Australian-based animated TV show that follows a young blue heeler pup and her family. It began in 2018, has released three darling seasons thus far, and all can be streamed in the U.S. on Disney+.
Parents commend the show for its pomp of tenderness, the thoughtful dialogue and showcase of admirable, unstructured play we all long to see in our living rooms.
The light and heavy are essentially treated as one and the same in the themes, and the show can make you feel as if the responsibility to be a parent is a privilege, not a burden.
A couple years ago, “Bluey” creators began a theatrical adaptation of the television series to continue its squeeze on families’ hearts around the world. Just like the show, “Bluey’s Big Play” touches beautifully on imagination, quality family time and the creative spirit within the child. The tour will return to the Washington Pavilion on July 23-24.
Sioux Falls first welcomed the Bluey puppets last summer to a sold-out audience. Gina Ruhberg, the Pavilion’s director of performances, says that family-friendly shows always do well here and that booking them is so critical to the success of diversifying entertainment for the city but also for the children in our community.
“Once you get them hooked at a young age, those are your future ticket buyers,” she says.
The “Bluey” performances next week keenly reflect the many opportunities local families have in Sioux Falls to connect with one another and enjoy an adventure right at home.
The Pavilion has brought in Blippi and Dora the Explorer, and a magic show is coming soon. The Orpheum presented “Finding Nemo,” “Alice in Wonderland,” “The Lion King” and many others this year alone and is selling tickets now for “The Wizard of Oz” and “Freaky Friday” before years’ end.
For many families, theater will win out in the choice to either take a vacation or see a show, the evening itself a magical adventure still providing the closeness any beach would afford.
Gina says when tours come to town, they often comment on the friendliness of our community and how much there is to see and do.
“Sioux Falls is the best kept secret for family culture,” she says.
We are all so eager to simply enjoy time together, and that’s exactly all I wanted when we snuggled up with the kids on a Friday night to watch the “Bluey” finale.
Have you seen the episode that aired in April? I spoil it for you here, but it threw me. Oddly, it was about the charming dog family selling their home, nearly a risky prank I was playing out on my kids. I only knew that the episode was an emotional one, not that it was this close to home.
My husband and I shared many panicked glances, but then I thought around 14 minutes in, Hey, what a great opportunity for the boys to see that other families sell their home, too!
“Bluey” is so clever, so universal like that.
Except this wasn’t that special moment. The decision to leave their home was so agonizing that the mum and dad decided to remove the For Sale sign from their yard and stay put. What!
Of course, my younger son expected this from us at once as well. “Everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to,” Bluey’s cousin Calypso says toward the end of the episode.
My son did not buy it. Many gentle conversations followed as well as some nights holding each other feeling tender but honored to endure as a family.
Bluey gave us the context we needed to meet each other in the vulnerable space that’s always waiting for families, if we are so willing to lean.
I encourage you to take your kids out to dinner, buy them the popcorn and the unnecessary tour merch and enjoy this beautiful show at the Pavilion, and the many others that unite us.
Let’s get out there.
Originally published in the Argus Leader in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.
Column: Homecoming season unites families, community
School spirit is not so much in the mascot or the pep rally or the fight song.
It’s about who shows up to the games.
Other than looking for parents in the stands, our high school athletes are also scanning the crowd for friends, neighbors, teachers, boyfriends and girlfriends, grandparents and cousins or that classmate in Algebra I. For any athlete on any team, it’s an emotional boost to see a familiar face showing up.
What a sight to see the bleachers full.
What music the clapping makes.
Homecoming is the pinnacle of this support. For weeks—even before the start of the school year—staff, coaches, students and parents prepare for a dedicated week that honors longtime traditions and deepens pride for the school communities we call home.
Families unite here. Teachers build careers here. Students dream here. High school is paramount in self-discovery and ambition, why wouldn’t we stand by any teenager’s side to sing their fight song along with them?
“High school athletics are all about camaraderie. ”
“High school athletics and activities are all about camaraderie,” said Jefferson High School football coach Vince Benedetto.
The Cavaliers will host their homecoming week Sept. 30 through Oct. 4. The Lincoln Patriots will, too.
Jefferson is newer to the Sioux Falls School District, and Benedetto said they are still working to build community. It’s like the first day of school for a long time: Acclimating in the hallways, getting to know staff and breaking in football turf.
Homecoming enriches all of that.
Benedetto said teachers and students enjoy their dress-up days for homecoming week and decorate classroom doors based on themes. He said his football team is establishing a new tradition called the Parent Sticker Ceremony, where Mom and Dad or grandparents or guardians or a friend who’s been by the quarterback’s side since day one come to the first scrimmage of the season to put the stickers on their athlete’s helmet.
“That has a lot of meaning for us,” Benedetto said.
Those are traditions alumni will pass down someday.
Traditionally, homecoming week for high schools in the U.S. is an opportunity every fall to “welcome home” alumni. These are advocates for a school that was once theirs, who still show up today because they are proud of where they came from. Maybe they want to uphold traditions. Maybe they want to hang on to a strong sense of identity. Maybe their own kids are there now.
Maybe they know what it feels like to see you waving in the stands.
Washington, the centenarian of public high schools in our community, will be the first to kick off homecoming next week, with powderpuff football on Sept. 17, volleyball on Sept. 18 and the football game on Sept. 20. The Warriors will play RC Stevens at Howard Wood Field, and the homecoming dance will be afterward.
Of course, among Washington and Jefferson, Lincoln and the Roosevelt Rough Riders, homecoming royalty will be crowned during coronations, a longtime tradition for the senior class. You’ll get to see the winning king and queen at all four football games on their respective Friday night games. Stick around to watch them wave from the middle of the field. Stand and clap when they are announced. What an honor for a 17-year-old in our community.
There is so much pomp and legacy in our school district. Listen quietly on Friday nights this fall, I bet you’ll hear the band. Get on the edge of town, I bet you’ll see our Friday Night Lights.
Better yet, be there. Enjoy the hot dog. Thank the boosters. Stay till the end. A school thrives best when its community is present, united and rallies for one another. It’s not just a football team or a school band or cross-country runners every fall. It’s one jersey. It’s one corner of Sioux Falls with the same colors on. Wear yours!
“We’ve got spirit, yes, we do! We’ve got spirit, how ’bout you?”
Let’s get out there.
An annual fundraiser is giving courage to those with cystic fibrosis
Ashley Ballou-Bonnema has less than 50 percent lung capacity. She might tire walking along our bike trails before you do or go in for blood draws on a holiday weekend. She might stay home and worry about her liver enzyme levels while you go to a basketball game and not even notice the crowd. For her, every breath is a relief.
But she can sing.
Ballou-Bonnema was born with cystic fibrosis, an invisible disease that causes thick mucus to clog the lungs and the digestive system. This leads to malnutrition, respiratory infections, chronic coughs, salty skin and wheezing. Her older brother died of CF when he was a teenager and would be 44 years old today.
But she still sings.
Our community is so abundant with local nonprofits to support. The Washington Pavilion held its annual gala this past spring and raised nearly $160,000 for its visual arts programs. The Children’s Home Society just raised over half a million dollars at their annual Caring for Kids fundraiser. Sioux Falls Cares delivers meals to families in need every Christmas, and the Ty Eschenbaum Foundation’s annual Earn the Gift Gala raised nearly $240,000 last year for youth cancer survivors. Over 800 people were in attendance.
Last year, with over 350 people in an entire day of rain, Ballou-Bonnema hosted her own fundraiser for Breathe Bravely, a global nonprofit that advocates for people with CF.
They sing.
“Singing has saved my life so many times,” Ballou-Bonnema says. “It’s about the spirit of what our voices can do.”
Breathe Bravely is a local nonprofit that connects people worldwide living with CF through the opportunity to sing. They provide virtual 1:1 voice lessons with professional instructors who promote the foundational mechanics of breathing, good posture and self-confidence.
“Our teachers really understand that it’s not even about the talent or the output,” Ashley says. “It’s about believing in the effort, the potential and music as the tool.”
Singing opens the lungs, for anyone. It requires respiratory strength and breath management that also serves someone with CF very well. The day might be scary, unknown, and the body might be worn, but when someone with CF sings, they feel peaceful and full, not lacking.
Breathe Bravely is a virtual program because people living with CF cannot be in the same room together, for fear of spreading unsafe bacteria with one another. Covid was nothing new for CF patients— they’ve always needed six feet of space and a mask in their purse. Their bodies are incredibly vulnerable, and their time is finite.
But there is still power in the gathering. Ashley says participants join the Zoom call and don’t even talk about CF. They are just grateful to have a safe space together, to understand one another without words, and to not have a secret they don’t even want to keep. For once, they’re understood and free.
“CF isn’t a fair disease,” she says. “It has no remorse. But, it is not what has been given to me. It is who has been given to me in this priceless life. These are some of my best friends! They are my family.”
Ashley has always advocated for herself. She knew the power of singing was serving her lungs well. It was a boost to her emotionally and physically. She feels more in control when she sings. And Breathe Bravely is to give that confidence away.
“Cystic Fibrosis isn’t a fair disease. It has no remorse. But, it is not what has been given to me. It is who has been given to me in this priceless life. ”
“A comfortable place of silence does no one any good,” Ashley says. “It doesn’t promote progress or protect the people I love. Fatigue only begets fatigue, so you can either sit and wallow, or you can do and enjoy. I enjoy.”
This weekend, you’ll be able to watch some of the virtual choirs on the big screen at the Levitt. And you’ll have no idea that their body is not as strong as ours. They are beautiful together. No matter that the song is beautiful or that they are singing beautifully— you’ll be most moved to realize the risk of something as free as a song: They are breathing bravely.
Ashley is among many in Sioux Falls who uses her energy to teach us so that we might support one another with a greater understanding.
I don’t have CF— I don’t know the pain of an embolization procedure or the stress of daily treatments or the fear of a fatal disease— but my friend Ashley does, and if singing makes her feel better, I want to help her sing.