I’m a proud Minnesotan.
As a first-year student, I’ve spent my first semester at Colorado College reflecting on what that means to me. This is my first time living anywhere besides Northfield, Minn., a town of 20,000 people. I’m suddenly surrounded by people coming from New York City to the Bay Area, and of course students from “just outside Boston.” Some of my friends grew up in a place big enough to have public transportation and more than one sushi restaurant!
When I introduced myself as CJ from Minnesota in the fall, people would tell me that their grandma lived there or just say “oh, cool” and move on. Now, when I say where I’m from, I receive a look of sympathy.
It bothers me. Living in Minnesota is not something that people should pity. Despite horrific recent events, it will always be my home.
It’s hard to explain to someone who’s never been to Minnesota why I love it so much, and why I call it my favorite state. My childhood friends and I would go to school on a snow day just to sled down the hill. The wind would bite my face as we sped down, trying to avoid the ramps the middle schoolers built. Every day at recess in the winter, we would play in the pile of snow the snowplows left at the edge of the asphalt, digging holes big enough to sit in. In the summer, we would go to the public pool until our hands were purple and wrinkled. The taste of chlorine and applesauce sits in my mouth to this day.
My town is boring, I will admit. A new restaurant opening qualifies as the news of the month. As soon as I got my license, driving around with my friends became a way to kill time. When we were feeling adventurous, we might even stop by Culver’s and get frozen custard. Minnesota until recently had been a predictable constant in my life.
This November, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents detained a man two blocks from where I used to live. WCCO, the Minnesota branch of CBS, reported that the 41-year-old was on his way to work when he was detained. His son recorded his interaction with the agents as they refused to answer why they were taking his father away.
Since then, there have only been more reports of interactions like this one. ICE has reportedly waited outside the same elementary school I attended at dismissal time to apprehend children. They are not detaining just the “worst of the worst,” they are actively separating families. People I grew up playing alongside are being profiled because of their skin color. There’s more to Minnesota than Minneapolis; countless small towns are facing the same struggles as bigger cities, but without the rest of the world’s attention.
I wish I were home. It’s hard to read the news and not be surrounded by a community where everyone is feeling what I am. I can’t help my neighbors from three states away.
And yet my friends and family demonstrate what it truly means to make a difference. I’ve seen my high school teachers unite and form safe passage teams to help students make it home safely. My local high school staged a walkout in protest of ICE as hundreds of people in Minneapolis flooded the streets.
Part of the reason ICE has been in severe conflict with Minnesotans is the community formed between neighbors. Strong communities are standing together against inequality. My town has the shared experience of fighting over the superiority of the three Greek pizza places and now has shared experience protesting against ICE as our neighbors are threatened and detained.
I’m not saying that you should start fighting with your friends about pizza in an attempt to protest ICE. But is building a connection with your neighbor going to support the resistance? Most definitely.