Category: Minnesota pride


In my Danish class, we have been learning about the Janteloven or “Jante Law.” The original law consists of a list of ten social mores in a fictional small Danish town:

1. You shall not think that you are special.
2. You shall not think that you are of the same standing as us.
3. You shall not think that you are smarter than us.
4. Don’t fancy yourself as being better than us.
5. You shall not think that you know more than us.
6. You shall not think that you are more important than us.
7. You shall not think that you are good at anything.
8. You shall not laugh at us.
9. You shall not think that anyone cares about you.
10. You shall not think that you can teach us anything.

Of course, Danish society does not literally adhere to these rules. The Janteloven is used as a symbol of Danish principles of modesty and social equality.

I don’t think those principles are exclusively Danish, though. The Janteloven also puts me in mind of Lake Wobegon, the iconic small Minnesota town. Or the little towns my parents come from. You’re not supposed to brag and boast. You work hard, but fame and riches aren’t the goal. Everyone has their little farm, or their little store, without harsh competition. Overall, we just want society to run smoothly, without passionate conflict. Of course American values–the American dream and the pioneering individual–are also present. But suffice it to say that the Janteloven way of thinking can exist outside of Danish society.

Back to Denmark. The principles of Janteloven have some interesting implications for Danish society–some positive, some troublesome. For example, Danish schools put an overwhelming emphasis on group learning as opposed to individual achievement. Danish students don’t receive their first grade until the eighth grade or so, and even then the psychotic competitive environment that characterizes some American schools is virtually nonexistant. Magnet schools or advanced tracks are almost unheard of; while one gifted school exists near Copenhagen, it is a new phenomenon and quite controversial. The rigid lecture format is also avoided, as Danish schools are forced to grapple with the ugly inequality of knowledge found in the classroom: they try as hard as they can to ignore the fact that the teacher knows more than the students! Instead, Danish students learn socially through discussion with their classmates. The Danish school system encourages tight-knit classes to make school “comfortable” for students: Danish students stay with the same classmates and same teacher all through primary school. Thus, by the end of school everyone is friends with everyone else in the class and they know how to work as a team.

This idea of everyone feeling “comfortable” or “at home” extends to adult forms of social life, with interesting consequences. At house parties, it is assumed that you know everyone there already and so when you enter it is customary to go around shaking the hands of everyone present. You aren’t supposed to introduce yourself during this, nor does the host introduce you. You just say hi–we’re all friends already…right?

Except when that isn’t the case.

Janteloven culture is built for tight-knit groups–little Danish towns in the country. It doesn’t have a good way of dealing with strangers. Danish hosts will never introduce a new person to the rest of the group, because to do so would acknowledge an inequality between you. It would communicate that they know more than you do, are more integrated into the circle of friends. Unless you actively, directly solicit such information, the Danes around you will just pretend that there is no inequality, that you are one with the group–and then the inequality will just perpetuate itself!

For most Americans, this problem can be fixed relatively easily. American values are built for dealing with newcomers, both because of our immigration history and present-day mobility. In Denmark, going to university more than an hour away from home is a huge deal. In America, people get up and leave for the other side of the country quite regularly. Thus, Americans learn how to make new friends quickly, to be open and outgoing. If we understand that all we need to do is ask, to be the first to acknowledge the inequality of social knowledge, it is easy to overcome that Janteloven obstacle.

Well, most of us.

Back to Lake Wobegon and its progeny. We live in an amalgamation of Janteloven and American values. We aren’t used to pressing ourselves onto others; we don’t want to cause trouble. Some of us might be successful at being outgoing, but many are only really good at socializing in small, tight-knit groups of friends. I find myself in the latter group.

The irony of the Janteloven that I find is that, under it, two people can share similar social values and yet be completely incapable of connecting. One isn’t taught to actively ask if a stranger needs help. The other isn’t used to reaching out and asking help of a stranger. And so there’s a deafening silence between the two.

They say that studying abroad isn’t so much about learning about a new country, but gaining greater perspective on one’s own self and society. I could believe it. I do believe that my Scandinavian upbringing (and perhaps innate introversion) has created difficulties in my meeting Danes here.

I’m working on it.

Today I received my absentee ballot for the first election I can actually vote in. I was very excited…until I read the directions.

“Step 1. Locate one of the following individuals to serve as your witness:

  • Anyone who is registered to vote in Minnesota;

  • A notary public;
  • Any person having authority to administer oaths.”

Oh dear. They really don’t make this easy, do they? At least for people who are abroad…

There is another girl from Minnesota in my news media class. I’m hoping that she is registered to vote in Minnesota, not New York, so that she can witness for me. Otherwise…I don’t know any Danish lawyers or judges or whatever. And I have to get this in the mail before I leave for Amsterdam on Sunday, since Minnesota apparently does absentee ballots by date received instead of postmark. So, depending on how things go Friday, I may not be able to vote anyway.

Never mind that I’m still trying to work out how I should split my ballot between the Democrats and the Independents. The Democrats actually have some candidates I admire in Minnesota this year, and they have an actual chance of winning, but I prefer third party politics and my views tend to coincide more with the Independents. Right now I’m thinking that I’ll give Hatch my vote, since I loathe Gov. Pawlenty and Hatch is behind in the polls right now, and vote Fitzgerald for the Senate. But we’ll see.

[Edit: Oh right! My dad is visiting. He is a registered Minnesota voter. He'll be back home before election day. Problem solved. Yay!]

Short, FYI version:

My cell phone is borked, so if you call me I may or may not be able to answer (haven’t tried yet), but I definitely can’t make calls out.

Long, ranty version:

After picking out new glasses frames, my mom, sister, and I went out to lunch at Camille’s–which has tasty food and the best color scheme I’ve ever seen in a restaurant. Five minutes after we left, I realized I didn’t have my purse. I knew I’d had it at the restaurant (I’d checked for my health insurance card while we were there), so we went back to look for it. The ladies now sitting at our booth hadn’t seen it; neither had the workers there. I left my number with the manager, in shock that it had disappeared so quickly.

Contents of my purse:
Wallet (with debit card, driver’s license, health insurance card, and around $60 in cash)
Two paychecks I had been going to deposit today (since there are no Wells Fargos on the East Coast) — total value $1700
Checkbook
Cell phone
Sunglasses (prescription)

As you can probably imagine, I was a very unhappy camper. Indeed, I was a very foul-mouthed camper who wanted to go take a baseball bat to something or someone. I called Wells Fargo and put a hold on my bank account. Mom called my dad and had him suspend my cell phone number. Then I had to go to a doctor’s appointment for a physical.

My mom was late picking me up from the doctor’s, but she had good reason. She had gone back to Camille’s a second time–by which time the workers there had found my purse! She didn’t even ask where. Much relief ensued.

I still have to wait for my new bank account to get set up and new checks and cards and whatnot to be issued “in 7-10 days”. And I still can’t use my cell phone–though hopefully that can be easily reversed. But that is MUCH preferable to the alternative.

Back home

For some reason, the Phoenix-Minneapolis leg of my trip had a “weight limit” lower than the weight of the plane’s capacity. The airline workers scurried around, counting the number of children on the flight so they could get under the limit and not have to boot very many passengers. I wondered, if the number of children could have that much of an effect on the ability of the plane to get airborne, why they weren’t counting the number of obese passengers, too.

Apparently the reason for the limit wasn’t that the plane was a rickety rustbucket, as we made it to Minneapolis with only a child kicking my seat and several crying babies to complain about.

I’ve flown out of Ontario many times, but today was the worst I’d seen it. As we lifted off, I saw that the entire valley was swathed in thick brown smog, with no rain in the forecast to clear it out. Yuck. I like Claremont; the colleges are pretty and green. But I don’t want to stay in LA after college. The whole star-studded, environmentally-ravaged desert thing is nice for a little while, but it doesn’t really do it for me in the long term.

As I was reminded as we finally broke through the clouds and looked down on southern Minnesota. My gosh! So much green! So many trees! I think Minnesota grew a dozen lakes while I was gone–there was water everywhere! (The recent five inches of rain the guy sitting next to me mentioned probably has something to do with that.) California is called the golden state for a reason, and even when the plants are green…they’re a different kind of green. CAM respiration kind of green–dustier, a bit yellower. Minnesota’s got the real thing.

So if the people laugh and giggle when you tell ‘em where you live
Say shh…say shh..
And if you know this is where you wanna raise your kids
Say shh…say shh..
If you’re from the midwest and it doesn’t matter where
Say shh…say shh
If you can drink tap water and breathe the air
Say shh…say shh…

(Pennsylvania’s pretty darn green, too.)

Anyway, I’m home for two weeks. We should hang out, yo!

For the non-Minnesotans out there, The Current (89.3 FM) is our public indie/local/random station. Reminiscent of college radio (until a few years ago, it *was* the St. Olaf College radio station, though then it only played classical music), only more professional and better funded.

The last ten songs played:
Ken Nordine – Azure
Wilco – The Late Greats
The Subways – She Sun
We Are Scientists – The Scene Is Dead
The Hopefuls – Whisper
Rainer Maria – Burn
Of Montreal – Disconnect The Dots
Rogue Wave – Kicking The Heart Out
Built to Spill – Liar
GST – Dancing Days

It’s basically a mix of indie rock/pop, underground hip-hop, a little punk, a little blues and folk, and a bit of just plain randomness. Perhaps what I like most about it is that it’s almost all stuff that sounds like things I listen to…yet almost all the songs are ones I’ve never heard before! (In the list above, “The Scene Is Dead” is the only track I’d previously heard.) It’s like the DJs Pandoraed my whole iTunes collection.

The Current was one of those things that I missed about the Minnesotan environment when I went away to school–along with thunderstorms, scarves, snow, Hopkins’ Main Street, Uptown, and the general down-to-earth vibe. Supposedly they have had online streaming radio for a while, but it never worked when I tried it. Maybe their Windows Media stream worked, I dunno, but the mp3 one was broken. Much sadness.

But now it is no longer borked! So I can enjoy the best radio station in Minnesota out here in ClearChannelfornia…for a week until I go home and can listen to it the old fashioned way. Oh well.

Check it out for yourself.

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