Why Wisconsin? Inheritance, Migration, and Finding Home

UW vs Minnesota Men’s Ice Hockey, January 2024

It’s a question I get a lot these days. “Do you or John have family in Wisconsin?”

People seem truly puzzled about our migration when I explain never having set foot into the state until three years ago… that we had been searching for a way to get into farming when we reconnected with an old family friend who encouraged us to visit Madison. One thing led to another, and we trusted the opportunities that kept showing up on our path. We love where we’ve landed, the rolling hills and water, the food culture, and the civic pride.

I’m one of those people who can’t easily answer the question, “Where are you from?” And, “Why Wisconsin?” follows suit, but the question has had me reflecting on my weird relationships with place…

A recent visit to the Ocean House in Watch Hill, RI to discuss DAUGHTER OF A PROMISE. This place was the inspiration for Long Harbor, a setting featured in all three of my novels.

A few months before EDEN’s publication, John and I traveled to Iceland where we spent a day with a guide named Thor. At the end of an adventurous afternoon, he showed us a plaque with a picture of farmers. “These are my ancestors, and this was their farm,” he said.

“How long has your family been in Iceland?” I asked. It’s the type of question that rolls off my tongue naturally, or maybe any American’s tongue, but he looked at me confused. I realized my foolishness when he answered, “My family has always been in Iceland, since the beginning.”

Exploring Iceland in 2017

Much as DAUGHTER OF A PROMISE’s protagonist, Betsabé, wonders what her outlook would have been if she’d been raised differently, I never got over Thor’s reply.  How might my human experience have been shaped if I’d felt such a connection to one specific place? If I walked the same land as my ancestors since the beginning of time! Before my grandparents, I don’t have much knowledge of the places my ancestors lived.

The closest thing for me was when John and I moved to Boston in 1994. I looked forward to living in a city where his family was established, where our last name meant something. Upon meeting me, people would ask, “Oh, are you related to Arthur? Are you married to his son?”

And I would answer “Yes,” and when they asked which son I was married to, the simplest reply was “Not the doctor.”

At that time in my life, stability was medicine. It was healing to raise our children with a sense of tradition which included schools, a congregation, and “our” beloved Chinese restaurant, three generations gathered around a large round table in the corner, spinning a Lazy Susan’s bounty, sharing a weekly feast. I made the city home for twenty-five years, interrupted only by a three-year stint in Switzerland.

I once considered my parents’ moving around as unfortunate, New York, Newport Beach, Dallas, Naples, as preventing my feeling connected to any one place. I’m sure others can resonate. Our country is one of immigrants or descendants of immigrants, with brave stories that make mine sound frivolous. There is something distinctly American about moving. (According to the US Census Bureau, about 1 in 10 people move every year. In 2022, about 8.2 million people moved between states.)

The beauty of tomatoes ready to burst at Flynn Creek Farm, July 2024

At the age of 58, I consider my willingness and ability to move a blessing. I think of the perspective that comes with being a stranger in a new land as character building. I know COVID inspired many people to move and also made moving possible. For example, we landed in Utah in the winter of 2021 although to a mixed reception. Salt Lake City and Park City represent a region with limited natural resources and a massive influx of people. Montrose Township, Wisconsin with its population of 1,100, however, was a different story. Although many in our new community can’t quite figure out why we’re here, most are pleased we are preserving 420 acres as agricultural, even if our regenerative, organic veggie farming might have them scratching their heads.

Why Wisconsin? I don’t have a logical answer, but as crazy as it seems, in all of my uprootedness, this place feels like a place to blossom. If you’ve made a move or have a point of view on moving, I’d love to hear from you in the comments!!

If you enjoyed Jeannie’s recommendations of COVID novels, read more of her book reviews on her blog, on Goodreads or StoryGraph, or on the New York Journal of Books. For more TBR inspiration, check out Jeannie’s curated book lists at Bookshop.org and Shepherd.com.