Editor's note: The following is a statement from the West Bank Community Coalition board of directors and staff members.
Some 26,400 Somali-Americans were living in poverty in Minnesota in 2014, according to the U.S. Census Bureau's American Community Survey and the state demographer. Another 11,700 were living in near-poverty. As Gov. Mark Dayton noted in his State of the State address, Somali-American family incomes are 71 percent lower than average white family incomes in Minnesota.
In the face of such well-established disparities for historically marginalized populations in Minnesota, policymakers in our state continue to leave the Somali community behind.
The Cedar-Riverside neighborhood in Minneapolis — one of the most densely populated areas in the state, with approximately 1,800 apartment units on two city blocks that house a population whose median household income is $12,794 — is home to some of the most egregious health, education and income inequities in Minnesota. But we are not without potential. Over 60 percent of our community members are under age 35, an increasingly important age group as Minnesota's workforce ages. We are engaged and ambitious. We do not want to merely survive in the position we are currently in; we want to thrive so our neighborhood can see better days.
Unfortunately, our ambition is no match for the systemic barriers to success that we face. Even more unfortunate is that these barriers result in part from ineffective public policy of the past that left our neighborhood without access to many social services other neighborhoods have, such as a public library or a school.
And our barriers keep coming, through programs like the Department of Justice's Countering Violent Extremism (CVE) program (known locally as Building Community Resilience), which focuses only on the Somali community, stigmatizing us as a result of the false premise that a person's Islamic faith determines their propensity toward violence.
We live these negative effects when 13-year-olds shout down girls from our community as terrorists during club basketball games; when moviegoers call police on boys from our community because they were East Africans with backpacks; when women assault women from our community for not speaking English in a restaurant, and in so many other chilling daily instances.
When you combine the isolation, stigma and distrust that the CVE program creates with our community's existing lack of opportunity, you create a recipe that makes our young people less resistant to radicalization.