S.D. filmmaker rises to national fame with his latest work
South Dakota filmmaker Andrew Kightlinger brings a little Midwest Nice to Hollywood.
Co-workers say he’s kind to the actors, he respects the staff and he brings a sort of optimism to set that would make any other work feel unsettling.
Movie-goers can sense the warmth themselves in his latest film, “Lost on a Mountain in Maine,” a PG-rated, family adventure film open now in cinemas nationwide and at the West Mall 7 in Sioux Falls. It will premiere at The Sioux Falls State Theatre downtown Nov. 15.
“You can be nice, you can be kind, you can be a leader who’s holistic,” said Kightlinger, 38, who grew up in Pierre. “You can surround yourself with people who are better than you and still make beautiful art. You don’t need to be a tyrant to be a director.”
And this is how his home state has gotten to know Kightlinger.
He hit the big screen with his first feature film, “Dust of War,” in 2011, a movie he said he’s proud of. Then, he directed “Tator Tot and Patton” in 2017, an emotional epic filmed entirely in South Dakota (Peep the airport in Pierre and Fernson’s Lion’s Paw Lager).
In between his claims to fame, he was greeting customers, sweeping up popcorn and talking nonstop about movies as the assistant manager for his hometown’s cinema, Theater 123.
“You could always tell the passion Andrew had in this,” said Dick Peterson, who owns Theatre 123 in Pierre and runs the State Theatre Co. in Brookings.
Peterson employed Kightlinger for much of his teenage years, in which he started out behind concessions, then the box office and then handling actual reels in the projection booth until he went on to help run the show in his 20s, because he knew too much.
“It was my dream job,” Kightlinger said.
How a Midwest filmmaker came to honor a national legacy
Despite growing with up with parents who were both scientists, Kightlinger has been relentlessly pursuing film since childhood.
And his parents obliged. They pushed him down their own STEM path, yet they never missed one of their only son’s musicals or one of the movie columns he wrote for his high school newspaper. They also gifted him his own video camera.
“We didn’t have a movie theater in Madagascar,” said his dad, Lon Kightlinger, a former state epidemiologist and now retired volunteer for the Peace Corps. His mother, Mynna Kightlinger, died in 2007. “But we were able to get a few videos and bring out a little TV at home to watch them over and over again on Saturday nights.”
Andrew liked to watch Jim Carrey’s “The Mask,” adventure film “The Black Stallion” and “Homeward Bound,” “the one where Sally Field was the cat,” Lon said.
And how fitting. The story of family pets finding their way back home not only reflects Andrew’s desire to build a career around inspirational storytelling, it’s similar to the plot of “Lost on a Mountain in Maine.” The universal movie is based on the true story of a 12-year-old boy named Donn Fendler, who got lost on Maine’s Mt. Katahdin in the summer of 1939 and survived alone in the wilderness for 10 days.
“Donn’s story is part of our history,” said producer Ryan Cook, who grew up in Maine and developed a close kinship with Fendler in hopes of sharing his story one day.
Fendler later wrote a book chronicling his fateful feat and spent the rest of his career speaking to schools, churches, Boy Scouts and even to rangers back on Mt. Katahdin, leaving a mark Cook wanted to memorialize.
Fendler died in 2016 at 90 years old.
“Andrew really respected Donn’s legacy,” Cook said. “He went above and beyond in collaborating with us through the whole process. It was always apparent we could trust him.”
Persistence can pay off, Dad says
“Lost on a Mountain in Maine” is produced by Balboa, a film production company led by Sylvester Stallone. Andrew said the “Rocky” actor, who was pretty hands off during the 18 days of filming in 2022, likes to seek work that “highlights human resilience,” the two of them tugging at similar heart strings.
“My goal is, when the credits roll, for people to say, ‘You know what? I should call my parents,’ or, ‘I should call my kid,’ ” Andrew said. “I want everybody feeling some sort of joy or sense of hope. I want them to say, ‘I’ll be better tomorrow.’ That’s what great art does.”
Andrew’s father called it an earnestness to entertain people.
“He’s taught me persistence,” Lon said, who got to be on set while his son filmed “Tator Tot and Patton” around Pierre. While church ladies showed up to feed the film crew every day, Lon let them sleep in his home and made them pancakes every morning.
Lon said he read the “Maine” script with Andrew before he was even hired to direct it, and Andrew would later send him editing snippets and ask for his advice.
“I’m just someone frank who’s not in the industry,” Lon said.
He talked begrudgingly about the whole movie bit, but one can see, there is no greater fan of Andrew than his father.
“He’s been to all my screenings. He’s watched all of my films multiple times,” Andrew said. “And he is definitely my biggest supporter.”
'A simple message' for families or anyone who enjoys movies
Andrew said he reminded himself often while filming on Mt. Katahdin – and also in the Catskills, seeking out homes built in the 1930s for authenticity – that he was making a unique film for kids. While lost, 12-year-old Donn foraged for berries alongside bears, lost his pants in the river and had bugs crawling up his nose, but there was an innocent perseverance that any child may relate to and swell with emotion when faced with it.
“This is a simple message,” Andrew said. “There is so much noise around us, but your family and your friends are your home. That is where your heart is.”
Even though the Great Depression had just ended and World War II was “on the doorstep,” Cook said this is still a relatable story about a family going through hardship. Andrew said the mother is compassionate in the film (played by Caitlin FitzGerald) while the father (Paul Sparks) “kind of goes through a reckoning of his own parenting style.”
“It will make you want to hug your kid,” Cook said.
And if you do, then Andrew has made tangible a dream that everyone around him has seen swirling all along: a special movie maker well on his way.
“Andrew has pursued his dream, and it has come true,” said Peterson, who Andrew credited for first fostering his film education at a small theater not that long ago. “And this is just the start. There was once a young Steven Spielberg who started off making independent films, and look where he is today.”
South Dakota ‘smut novel’ author lands publishing deal with HarperCollins
As published in the USA Today on Dec. 20, 2024.
As originally published in the USA Today.
Ah, finally.
The weather is chilly. It’s dark before dinner, the fire is crackling and it’s about time to settle into a long winter’s nap with your lover.
Or, better yet, let’s settle in with a steamy book about lovers. And just grab an entire series of romance novels while you’re out holiday shopping this year.
Sioux Falls author Amy Daws has written – and self-published – more than 20 books in 10 years’ time, all adult contemporary romance. Or, let’s just call it what Daws does: “smut” writing. It’s the type of meet-cute tropes that never tire, that leave readers swooning, and that they read with gluttony. When will they kiss already?
Daws said she has mastered the “dangling of the carrot” for her readers, but now she’s caught the attention of an international publisher as well. After a decade of marketing all her work on her own, she has signed a contract with HarperCollins, a publishing company well known among writers and readers as one of the “Big 5.” (Others being Penguin Random House, Simon & Schuster, Hachette and MacMillan.)
You sign with a Big 5, you are on your way.
“We love all of her work so much,” said John Jacobson, her editor with Canary Street Press, which is an imprint under HarperCollins.
The company will be releasing her newest book in her latest series next year, while also re-releasing a few of her existing books with new covers, in paperback, e-book and audio.
“There is something special about seeing your books in retail stores like Target and Barnes & Noble, and we’re so excited to bring that to Amy,” Jacobson said. “There will be readers discovering her work for the first time.”
'The master of girl talk'
But Daws is not new to this.
Before she found an agent, and before a publisher found her, she was single-handedly managing a seven-figure career and charming video reels for more than 110,000 followers on Instagram and more than 150,000 followers on TikTok.
She’s produced all her own audiobooks, became a No. 1 best-selling author on Amazon, sold nearly 350,000 copies of one book alone. She's even had a movie spun out of another, all from her kitchen.
“I’m not just a writer,” said Daws, 41 and living in South Dakota’s largest city with her husband and 12-year-old daughter. “I’m an entrepreneur. With success comes more responsibility, so I’ve been doing the marketing, advertising, writing, cover work and creative control. You want to stay relevant as an indie (independent) author. It definitely feels competitive out there, so I need to have a hand in everything.”
That includes relationship building with her readers. Like a suitor in her books, she’s unabashedly loyal to them.
“Readers will line up all day long to wait for a picture with her and to have her sign their books,” said Tricia Derbyshire, a reader from Chicago who met Daws at a book convention in 2022 and has read her entire backlist since. “They’ll even bring her gifts. If there’s anything Amy does especially well, it’s drawing in new readers with her personality and humor.”
I met Daws for the first time last month, during an author fair at Siouxland Library’s downtown location, and Derbyshire is right. Like you do when you’re enchanted by someone new, many in the room were clamoring to be near her.
Jill Degen, a reader who recently attended a book club in town with Daws, said Daws’ book characters feel like best friends.
“The quick-wit humor and romance in her books make them so addicting,” Degen said. “She’s the master of girl talk.”
Daws’ editor, Jacobson, said they had been following her for quite some time and were immediately drawn to her humor as well.
“It’s difficult to make somebody laugh out loud, and Amy can do that really well,” Jacobson said.
But Daws also shares a depth to her characters that is just as enticing.
“Amy is incredibly complex underneath all the fun, often addressing personal, challenging topics,” said Jacobson, who impulsively emailed Daws earlier this year to see if she had signed with a publisher yet.
Jacobson was courting her more than she was courting the publisher.
“You always want that palpable connection between two characters – that excitement you seek – and Amy has it,” Jacobson said. “I think readers will find themselves moved by Amy no matter what.”
In good company among spicy romance authors
She’ll fit right in when her books pile up for national retailers.
Markell Boysen, manager at Barnes & Noble in Sioux Falls, said spicy romance fiction has “taken off” in their store and that some of their top-selling, national authors are fellow contemporary romance writers.
Boysen listed writers like Penelope Douglas, Lauren Asher and Elle Kennedy – a fellow best-selling author who also writes under an imprint of HarperCollins – sell equally steamy books with an equally voracious readership, never writing fast enough to keep them satiated for more.
“I have to read Amy’s books as soon as they come out,” said Tiara Cobillas, a prolific reader from Kansas City who has traveled to book conventions just to meet Daws. “She’s an easy author to pick up and read, and I can’t get enough. Her humor is so unique and relatable.”
Even though Daws said she has fellow authors who “publish five books in a year,” she needn’t rush. With a publisher to support her now and a readership that adores her, she has more grace to give herself as she commences the next chapter of her career.
“It’s been such a big journey,” Daws said.
Ironically, her first-ever published book was an emotional memoir about enduring recurrent pregnancy loss before her daughter was born.
“It’s exciting that I keep going up, but I’m also content being where I am," Daws said. "It’s been a dream job to help me enjoy the one thing I’ve wanted most in my life, which is to be a mom.”
Many of Daws’ books take place in London, “one of my favorite places,” she said, but Sioux Falls is home.
“We’re happy here, our family is here,” she said with the forethought that an even bigger readership is on the way.
Boysen said Daws’ latest book will hit their shelves in March.
“For a long time, the Midwest has been considered fly-over and that talent had to leave to find success,” said Sioux Falls reader Degen, who calls Daws’ work “a literary treat.” “Amy has helped to break that narrative with her success. Talent lives here, and her success is inspiring to me as a reader but also for other writers striving for similar success.”
National Penguin Project honors young actors of all abilities
Originally published in the Argus Leader in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.
A few months ago, 12-year-old Nate Sheppard said bravely to his mother, Julie Sheppard, “I want to go to rehearsal, Mom. It’s where I belong.”
He hasn’t left the stage since.
Nate is among 50 other young actors participating in The Penguin Project, an all-abilities performance program for ages 10 to 25 that will bring “The Wizard of Oz” to the Orpheum Theater this weekend.
More than 400,000 patrons annually attend events at The Washington Pavilion, and more than 155,000 combined tickets have been sold to both Pavilion and Orpheum performances within the past year. The Pavilion’s production last year of “Disney’s Aladdin” alone generated more than $1 million in revenue. Childrens’ plays abound, families return again and again.
But have they seen the Penguins?
What is The Penguin Project? Learn more about the national program named after penguins because they are different than other birds but still thrive.
“This program is our weekly motivation,” said Oliver Mayes, managing artistic director at The Premiere Playhouse. “You will get see so many students on stage with an overwhelming amount of joy and talent that doesn’t normally get to be expressed.
“Seeing them in their true happy place is very moving and an incomparable experience.”
The Premiere Playhouse in Sioux Falls (formerly known as the Sioux Empire Community Theater) started the first and only South Dakota chapter of the national Penguin Project in 2021. Since, they have hosted three plays, about 40 to 50 students on stage, and a full staff that works to provide an inclusive and accessible theater experience.
“We curate the show more so for the kids,” said Alex Newcomb Weiland, manager of the production and education departments at the Playhouse. “Our stage is their classroom, and we pride ourselves on having a safe and fun environment for them.”
Mentorship fosters friendship
The Penguin Project produces modified, theatrical productions for differently abled actors who are paired with a peer mentor on stage to guide them.
“We’re still friends with Emily’s mentor from her first year,” said Darla Groeneveld, the mother of the 18-year-old student who’s performed with the penguins all three years.
She also participates in the United Wolf Pack Special Olympics Team in town.
“We hang out together, and these interactions are good for both sides. It shows our kids that they are just like everybody else," Groeneveld said. "They want to be just like everybody else and have the same childhood experiences. With their mentor, they get to do that.”
Among mentors and castmates, the experience helps to enhance social interaction, communication skills, self-confidence and self-esteem.
Most importantly to the cast, it fosters friendship. Some of them are new to one another, while others have met in school or at Special Olympics events. They become fast friends either way.
“Everyone here is so creative,” said Sara Newitt, a 14-year-old student who is playing the Wicked Witch of the West and also performed in “Seussical” last year. “There’s a lot of, like, inspiration going around the room. This year is more of building individual characters, but that is almost more powerful when we bring it all together as a team.”
There are lots of hugs on stage, and singing voices so loud and proud, as supportive parents and families watch from their auditorium seats.
“You just cheer for everybody up there,” said one of the moms, Jeanette Ross. “It’s good tears.”
Castmates 'are divas now'
Nate says it’s scary at first. His sister, Laura, is also in the play, taking on the lead role of Dorothy, and his older brother, Kainan, will be there, too. He gets a kick out of the part where he gets to throw apples at Nate, who’s playing the scarecrow this weekend.
“But then when I’m done with it, it just feels like a big relief,” Nate said shyly.
Castmate Hunter Ross, a 17-year-old senior at Washington High School who performed with the penguins last year as well, said he still gets nervous, but “that’s a good thing.”
“We have to play three nights in a row, but when I was done with ‘Annie’ last year, I was so much in tears because I did it,” he said. "It was so fun.”
His mom, Jeanette Ross, breaks a smile and nods.
Sara’s mom, Barb Newitt, describes her daughter’s growth throughout the season as learning life skills and figuring out her true talents. Mayes agreed the growth in their students is tremendous.
“The ones that have been with us every year, we joke they are divas now,” he said. “They’ve gotten so confident, they know how good they are, and it’s just a riot.”
“You are discovering aspects of yourself you didn’t notice before,” teenage artist Sara added. She squeezes a rainbow sensory squishy as she chats. “I am getting excited more, because I know that, if I’ve prepared, all that’s left to do is just step on the stage and feel wonderful.”
Sara was not too keen on being cast as the wicked witch.
“She’s cruel," she said.
But it’s another learning opportunity.
“I’m really trying to understand why there’s such a role in the world,” Sara said. “But she represents a paradox in a way, like she’s trying to be understood. She’s trying to seek attention, but she’s doing it in all the wrong ways!”
Mission of inclusivity and accessibility honored
Mayes said The Penguin Project has helped the Playhouse achieve productivity in their mission faster than they would have with any other project. He said some guests arrive at the show and don’t even realize what they are going to experience but leave verklempt, moved, even proud. It’s also changing the staff.
“I’m so grateful this has come into my life,” Newcomb Weiland says. “It’s a passion I never knew I would love more than anything else and is my favorite project we do all year.”
Perhaps it will be for patrons, too.
Why a South Dakota mother leaves state for prenatal care
Danielle Campoamor drives 86 miles a week to visit her obstetrician in Minnesota.
At 32 weeks pregnant, the South Dakota mother of two is new to the anti-abortion state in which she is not comfortable giving birth.
In the face of Amendment G, which puts abortion access in the hands of state voters next week, Campoamor is choosing to speak out.
“This is a way to feel some semblance of control for my future and my family’s future,” she said.
So she drives 43 miles east on Highway 34, visits a new OBGYN at the Pipestone Medical Center and drives 43 miles back home to Madison. She will continue to do this weekly for the next two months, until she is home safely with a healthy baby girl by Christmas.
“South Dakota used to be my safe, happy place,” said Campoamor, 37, who recently left Brooklyn, New York, with her husband and children to serve as a needed caregiver for her 88-year-old grandfather.
He was diagnosed last year with Alzheimer’s and has since had two bad falls.
But, much of her family is here, and she fondly remembers visiting South Dakota every summer growing up. “I loved going to the farm, smelling the cows, chasing after frogs and pheasant hunting,” she said. “But now as a pregnant mother of two, I have to ask myself, ‘Is this really a safe place anymore?’ ”
Pregnancy-related deaths on the rise in South Dakota
Since her childhood visits to South Dakota, women’s reproductive rights have changed. Although South Dakota’s current abortion ban is intended to preserve the lives of children, the state’s infant mortality rate continues to lead the nation.
According to the South Dakota Department of Health, out of every 1,000 live births in 2022, 7.8 babies died within the first four weeks of delivery.
Pregnant mothers like Campoamor have been at risk, too.
The Child Death Review and the Maternal Mortality Review committees also reports that, out of 24 pregnancy-related deaths in 2022, 20 were preventable.
This is why Campoamor drives.
“Chances are this will be a healthy birth,” she said. “But the only thing we know for sure about pregnancy is that it’s completely unpredictable.”
Ten years ago, Campoamor lost a twin 20 weeks into her first pregnancy and was in the hospital with a blood infection. A few months later, she delivered her first-born son along with the remains of his sibling. She asks: What would’ve happened if she was enduring that loss today?
“I don’t know if my body will let me down as it has before,” she wrote for The Nation Magazine last month. Campoamor covers female reproductive rights for national outlets and is a former NBC and Today reporter. “But now I am one severe pregnancy complication away from landing in a South Dakota emergency room, where a doctor is too afraid to help me because of the state’s anti-abortion policies.”
She combats her worry with a plan. Campoamor said she has neighbors and cousins lined up if she goes into labor when her husband is out of town for work, and she’s enlisting drivers if she can’t make the 43-mile drive on her own. She also communicates regularly with her doctor and has discussed with her where to go and who to reach out to in Sioux Falls if she needs immediate care in a larger community.
“These are the concerns that overwhelm my mind," she said.
What would Amendment G mean for South Dakota?
On Nov. 5, voters will decide whether abortion will be legal again in South Dakota.
A vote to adopt Amendment G would legalize abortion in the first trimester.
“We want to live in a world where everyone who is pregnant and having a baby is having a wanted pregnancy, a wanted birth … and a positive future to look forward to,” said Samantha Chapman, ACLU’s advocacy manager in South Dakota, who recently pointed out how Gov. Kristi Noem has touted high birth rates in South Dakota while excluding the state’s national leading statistic in infant mortality.
A vote not to adopt the measure would leave the Constitution as it is: A vague definition of prohibiting all abortions except to preserve the life of a pregnant woman.
“Numerous South Dakota medical professionals agree: We need to (continue to) prohibit late-term abortions, protect mothers from unsafe, unregulated abortions, and protect babies,” said Leslie Unruh and Jon Hansen, co-chairs of Life Defense Fund, a nonprofit opposing Amendment G.
Earlier this year, Campoamor interviewed Rick and Adam Weiland, co-founders of Dakotans for Health who feel confident that Amendment G can pass next Tuesday, Election Day.
“(Opponents) are looking for anything they can to deny the voters the right to decide,” Rick Weiland told Campoamor for British online newspaper The Independent.
According to a statewide poll co-sponsored by South Dakota News Watch last month, the outcome may be too close to call, with 50% of voters in support of the measure and 47% opposing it. As of two weeks ago, 3% were still undecided.
“We’ve been saying from the very beginning of this campaign that the more people learn about how extreme Amendment G really is, the more they will reject it,” said Caroline Woods, a spokesperson for Life Defense Fund, last week.
'I just want a healthy baby'
But Campoamor said she simply wants to introduce another great-grandchild to her grandfather and wants to continue to live a healthy life, even if she has to be in South Dakota with her family right now.
“I’m not looking to terminate my pregnancy in South Dakota,” she said. “This is an extremely wanted pregnancy. But I am already a mom to two boys and would like to keep living my life. Here it seems the only time my life would matter is if I were dangerously close to losing it. Do I want to roll that dice? How close to death am I willing to be?”
If enshrined in the state Constitution, Amendment G would supersede the state’s 2005 trigger ban that went into effect when the U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. The South Dakota Attorney General’s office has stated that, since it is a constitutional amendment, the state legislature cannot alter the measure if it is enacted.
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.