Sew and Sow Tour 2026

Entry 03/02/2026

By Dawn Espe, Executive Director, The Sowing Room

Sew and Sow Tour: The First Two Months

Visiting all sixty‑five cities across Cass, Crow Wing, Morrison, Todd, and Wadena counties has been a long‑standing goal of mine. After spending ten years serving these communities through the Region Five Development Commission, I’ve built a deep sense of connection to these places. From local festivals to small businesses to the natural beauty that surrounds us, this region has been home for more than a decade.

A Return Marked by National Shifts

My first introduction to the area was in 2001, less than a month after 9/11, when I became the Crow Wing County 4‑H Program Coordinator. Agriculture, youth development, and county fair culture shaped my early years here. Life shifted, as it does, and I moved away for a time before returning in 2013—during Trump’s first term. I settled in the Long Prairie area, then moved back to Brainerd/Baxter in 2018, just in time for the pandemic, the murder of George Floyd, and the social unrest that followed.

Life has shifted yet again. Trump is now serving his second term, and after the 2024 election I decided it was time: 2026 would be my year to visit all 65 cities in Region 5. I wanted to talk to people, hear how they’re doing, learn their hopes and gaps and needs.

Then 2026 arrived. I launched my Sew and Sow Tour—and within a week, Operation Metro Surge hit Minnesota. Days later, Renee Good was murdered. A week after that, Alex Pretti.

Why These Moments Matter

Each of these major events unfolded during seasons when I was living, working, and raising my family here. Over 25 years, with a break from 2005–2013, I’ve returned again and again to the sameness and the change. I’ve watched how national crises ripple into local life—or don’t. And I’ve carried all of this alongside my own lived experience as a single, white, Gen X, queer, twice‑divorced mother of a teenager. It gives me a particular lens, one I’m learning to embrace rather than limit.

My commitment on this tour is simple: curiosity over judgement. I’ve held that mantra for eight years, and I still have to return to it more often than I’d like. I’m not here to declare what’s right or wrong. I’m here to share what I see, what I feel, and what I learn along the way. If it brings insight, sparks curiosity, or offers a moment of joy or laughter, then it’s worth writing.

January & February: Starting Close to Home

Cities visited: Baxter, Brainerd, Fort Ripley, Cuyuna, Jenkins, Pequot Lakes, East Gull Lake, Lake Shore, Nisswa

I began close to home—partly because winter weather is unpredictable, partly because local coffee shops, restaurants, and bars ebb and flow with the cold. And partly because I wasn’t sure how the region would be processing the murder of Renee Good, which had happened less than a week earlier.

The Silence That Surprised Me

What I found was… silence. No conversations. No murmurs. No news on the TVs. It was as if nothing had happened—not in Minneapolis, not in St. Cloud, not even in Brainerd.

It struck me hard. My personal and professional circles include people directly impacted by ICE presence, or working alongside those who are. I hadn’t had a single moment that week where I could set it aside. And here, people were chatting about fish they’d caught, local gossip, meat raffles.

I felt jealous and sad at the same time. Jealous that life seemed untouched. Sad that life seemed untouched.

Of course, that was only my perception. For all I know, someone in that bar had just finished writing their elected officials about due process and loving their neighbors. Maybe they were seeking joy after a heavy week. I’ll never know. But the contrast revealed something about culture, inclusion, and how differently we each experience place.

A Fish Fry and an Unexpected Conversation

Two weeks later, I found myself in a small bar in Cuyuna at noon, asking about lunch. The bartender told me they had hot dogs, brats, and frozen pizza—unless I waited an hour for the free fish fry. Last week, she said, they’d done a rabbit feed. Over the holidays, they host free Thanksgiving and Christmas meals for anyone who wants to join.

So I stayed.

In that hour, the bar transformed. Crockpots of cheesy potatoes and baked beans appeared. Bowls of coleslaw and salads. Fresh cornbread. The backroom filled with food and people.

An older man in an NRA cap sat near me and asked what I was working on. This was just days after Alex Pretti’s murder, and I wasn’t sure I had the emotional bandwidth for this conversation. But this tour is about showing up, so I did.

We talked about where we’d lived, our failed marriages, what we do for fun. Then he asked how I felt about the El Potro staff being detained by ICE. My stomach tightened. I asked if it was okay to speak honestly. He asked if I was a Democrat. I said I wasn’t really either, that I lead with my values, and that what was happening to our immigrant neighbors was wrong. That El Potro was one of the few places I always felt fully welcomed.

He fist‑bumped me. He felt the same.

My assumptions about him cracked open. My brain rewired itself in real time. This—this right here—is why the journey matters. These moments challenge our perceived truths instead of reinforcing our biases the way social media so easily does.

Soon after, the fish was fried, the line formed, and plates filled with food. People laughed, talked, shared stories. I felt like I’d stumbled into a family reunion. I ate a homemade meal with strangers and felt part of something uniquely rural, unexpectedly warm, and deeply human.

Cities to be visited in March/April: Sebeka, Menagha, Nimrod, Long Prairie, Browerville, Clarissa, Staples, Motely, Pillager, Chickama Beach, Manhattan Beach, Pine River, Ironton, Crosby, Tromwald and Riverton

Citation: OpenAI. (2026, March 4). Clean-up of draft document written by Dawn Espe [Generative AI chat]. ChatGPT.