Anderson: How a mentoring program is helping underrepresented Minnesotans learn to hunt

Some people seek self-fulfillment outdoors by running marathons, climbing mountains or paddling canoes from Minnesota to the Arctic Ocean.

Misty Blue did it by answering a shout-out on Facebook.

Blue is a Native American woman living in the Twin Cities and a single mom to a 15-year-old daughter. “I’m Ojibwe and Dakota,’’ she said.

As of last weekend, she’s also a grouse hunter — no small achievement.

Here’s how that happened.

Last summer, Blue, 37, a research and evaluation consultant, saw a notice on a Facebook group she follows seeking people from underrepresented Minnesota communities who wanted to learn to hunt.

“Hunting was on my list of things I wanted to try,’’ Blue said. “I wanted to have a deeper connection to the land, while also moving toward eating more indigenous foods. So I sent an email, saying I was interested.’’

With a hunting dog named Kaiya and a lot of field cred as a bird hunter, Yang would appear to be the prototypical I-have-to-hunt-every-possible-day-I-can Minnesota wing shooter.

“Except I didn’t grow up hunting,’’ he said. “My dad hunted, of course, being from Laos, but I was actually sort of anti-hunting. I didn’t start hunting until my late 20s, after I got my dog.’’

Yang’s transition from no-way-I’m-doing-this to avid hunting dude and even more avid conservationist — he belongs to a suite of wildlife groups — came with many benefits, chief among them an improved relationship with his dad and now hunting partner, Tony.

But after only a handful of pheasant-hunting excursions to southern and western Minnesota, Yang realized very few members of the state’s growing minority populations were tromping the state’s hinterlands like he was.

Which was a shame, he thought, because Minnesota has vast amounts of public lands, and they belong to everyone.

Though white and a native Minnesotan, Bancks — the land protection manager for the Minnesota division of the Trust for Public Lands — is in lockstep with Yang on hunting, especially on public lands.

“I was at Pheasant Fest in Minneapolis a few years ago, where I heard Keng speak about his story of becoming a hunter,’’ Bancks said. “In my job, I had been thinking about how we could make lands we purchase and manage for the public more available to more underrepresented populations, and when I heard Keng speak, I thought, ‘This is the guy,’‘’

So it was in August when Blue responded to Yang about her interest in becoming a hunter, she also responded to Bancks. The two had joined forces to form the Mentored Hunting and Angling Program for underrepresented Minnesotans sponsored by the Minnesota chapter of Backcountry Hunters and Anglers and the Trust for Public Land.

Blue wasn’t alone in signing up. About a dozen other Minnesotans of color also contacted Yang and Bancks, saying they, too, wanted to learn to hunt. Split about evenly between men and women, some were Black, some Hmong, some Latino, some were from the state’s LGBTQ community, and some, like Blue, were Native American.

Each was willing to meet weekly online for about six weeks and also attend a couple of firearms training exercises at a Twin Cities gun club.

The course culminated last weekend with a grouse hunt on public forest lands surrounding Itasca State Park, where the group headquartered.

Itasca is about a five-hour drive from the Twin Cities, and the 13 new hunters were responsible for their own transportation and other gear, except shotguns, which were provided.

With its vast acreages of public lands, the northwest Minnesota location was important, Yang said, because he and Bancks wanted the hunt to be replicable by the new hunters.

“Building community, creating traditions and doing it on public lands were the goals of the program,’’ Yang said. “Especially the public lands part.’’

The success of the Itasca hunt depended on grants from Bass Pro/Cabela’s, the northwest metro chapter of Pheasants Forever and the National Wild Turkey Federation.

“As a kid I was obsessed with hunting,’’ Jacobson said. “But I’ve gone through quite an evolution in that regard, and have become very interested in the care I give to preparing game I kill for the table. I wanted to be more involved in the entire process, from hunting to cooking a good meal.’’

After a meet-and-greet on Friday evening, Jacobson and the other mentors, along with their dogs, scattered in the northwest Minnesota woods with the novices.

“In talking with the people I hunted with and some of the other new hunters,’’ Jacobson said, “I think that there was a general curiosity about hunting, along with a search for personal empowerment. I think a lot of people are uneasy about their disconnect from the land.’’

Downing a fleeing ruffed grouse on the wing is a skill that often eludes even longtime uplanders. Still, by day’s end, as the group gathered around a bonfire, a few grouse and woodcock were in their collective bag, enough for a feast of delicacies.

“I think the outing was successful because on Sunday no one wanted to leave,’’ Yang said. “Everyone felt kind of connected. One of the mentees has already bought his own shotgun.’’

“I really enjoyed being outdoors all weekend and loved hiking around the woods. Already we’ve formed a chat group, and we’ve made informal plans to do more trapshooting. I’ll definitely go grouse hunting again.’’

Editor’s note: Similar ice fishing, turkey hunting and duck hunting events are planned in 2025. More information is on the Trust for Public Land and the Minnesota chapter of Back Country Hunters and Anglers websites