It can be hard to believe the news, TV or social media anymore, but eyes do not lie. I witnessed Minneapolis during the ICE siege when a posse of 3000 federal immigration agents in Special Forces gears rode into town to make America “safe” by rounding up “illegals,” as if storming insurgents in Afghanistan.
The bone chilling cold of subzero temperature was no comparison to the ice that flowed through my veins with what happened next. One can look away from the desecration and destruction in other parts of the world, but when it happens in your own backyard, it’s impossible to turn a blind eye.
My Norwegian grandparents - immigrants
I was born and raised in America. Like so many US citizens, my forefathers were immigrants, who left their homeland for a better life in the Land of Opportunity. On my paternal side, we traced our roots back centuries to Scotland. In 1924, my maternal grandfather immigrated from Norway. To pay back his passage by ship, he worked on his Aunt Ovidia Boe’s (also an immigrant) beet farm across Minnesota’s border in South Dakota. Eventually, he moved to Chicago where he petitioned for U.S. citizenship March 15, 1932.
Though I have resided abroad longer than in the States, I retain strong ties to the Minneapolis-St Paul (Twin Cities) area. My nieces went to a Spanish Immersion School in its suburbs; my daughter and son earned medical degrees at its universities.
After spending a part of my adult life there, I can attest that “Minnesota nice” is real. Minnesotans wait patiently in lines, respect polite distances, offer muffins to new neighbors. Centuries ago, when immigrants -Norwegians, Swedes, Germans and others -moved westward, they depended on one another for survival in the brutal land.
Minneapolis-St.Paul became sanctuary cities in the 80s, but long before the Sanctuary Movement people here advocated for democracy, civil rights and human dignity setting an example for those resisting authoritarianism worldwide.
In December, agents from ICE (US Immigration & Customs Enforcement) and CBP (Customs & Border Protection) terrorized communities in Operation Metro Surge using racial profiling and storm patrol tactics. They killed law abiding citizens Renee Good and Alex Pretti for doing what Minnesotans do best, extend helping hands to others less privileged.
According to the city Emergency Operations Center's impact assessment in January alone, Minneapolis lost more than $200 million. Local businesses lost $81 billion in revenue; workers lost $47 million in wages and 76,200 people experienced food insecurity. Countless children and adults feared for their safety.
Thousands of people lined the streets in peaceful demonstrations. Businesses and shops opened their doors providing warmth and sustenance for citizens of all walks of life as they marched together in the bitter cold.
Grandmothers knitted “Norwegian” red hats, a symbol of Norway’s resistance during the Nazi Occupation. Young mothers blew whistles warning neighbors. Suburbanites organized car pools to ferry frightened immigrants and their children to churches, schools and work places.
Minnesota Strong became a battle cry for the country.
In solidarity, the food pantry where my brother-in-law volunteers delivered meals to families in hiding. My daughter’s pediatrics group reached out with house calls, zoom consultations and ride shares for Latino, Somalian, Hmong and other minorities afraid to leave their homes because their skin tone, accent, ethnicity put a target on their back. She drove colleagues, who “looked different,” to their appointments. My niece loaded her Costco cart with groceries to donate. My sister marched and carried banners.
Before we flew back to Europe, my sister invited us to dinner. Feeling distraught and disillusioned, like so many families, my immediate circle rallied round sending me off with a comforting, ol’fashioned Minnesotan dinner.
My brother-in-law made a hot dish, emblematic of the region's low-key, unpretentious, and salt-of-the-earth reputation. This traditional, humble meal, a creamy mix of meat and vegetables topped with tater tots, symbolizes the down-home, Minnesota-nice culture.
Then, I returned to Switzerland heavy hearted to where tensions had escalated from America’s home-grown insanity that incited war across the Middle East impacting world peace.
I am a well-traveled, global-minded expat with a unique and privileged world view, but I have no answers. In my chagrin, I focus on the memory of family regrouping and Minnesotans rallying together.
Minnesotans are nice!
They are also resilient.
They stand together.
They hold their ground.
I may live abroad, but I remain Minnesota Strong.
Wow! I did not know a lot of this. Go Minnesotans! Let’s keep praying this nightmare ends soon. Thanks for sharing.