Years ago, I hopped into a pickup truck — I’d never been in a pickup truck before — with two friends on a trip to Walmart in Mankato shortly after I’d started my freshman year at Minnesota State Mankato. I wanted a DVD, “Along Came a Spider,” but I needed cash, so I asked an employee to point me toward the nearest time machine.
Medcalf: Walz’s emergence a chance to tell a new story about Minnesota
The full truth of our state is complex, multicultural and hopeful.
I’d only been in Minnesota for a few weeks, and I had not realized that some of the lingo from my hometown might not make sense here. In Milwaukee, we called the ATMs “time machines” because they were actually made by a company named “TYME.”
The young staffer working at Walmart that night stared at me for a moment before he lowered his head, shrugged and said, ‘No … No, we don’t have any time machines.’” That may have been his last shift.
More than 20 summers later, I no longer call them time machines. But I still haven’t had a hot dish and the only Jucy Lucy I ever tried did not convince me that I should order another one. I’ve enjoyed a lot of great food on a stick at the State Fair, where I’ll gladly wait in a line for an hour or longer to get a bucket of Sweet Martha’s cookies this weekend. And — at age 41 — I’m known in my household for a weekly rant about disruptive construction projects in the Twin Cities. I won’t call myself a full-fledged Minnesotan, but this is my home.
This state we all call home will undergo another examination in the months ahead as Gov. Tim Walz continues his tour of America as the Democratic Party’s vice presidential nominee. Walz resembles the image of what America believes represents Minnesota: a lot of folksy white people.
That notion, which denies the presence of this state’s immaculate Black and brown movers and shakers, is only partly true. But with a national spotlight on Minnesota yet again, I hope the full story of the state and the experiences of its diverse communities receive the attention they deserve.
Four years ago, the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder showcased the significant hurdles faced by marginalized communities in Minnesota, a state with a problematic history it had to confront before it could begin to move forward. It’s a place that often secures multiple spots on those “Best Places to Live” lists, but in that moment, the country learned that Minnesota ain’t always the best place to live for everybody.
Yet, the politicized national narrative about Minnesota — embraced by opportunists who’d hoped to falsely cast Minneapolis in particular as a dangerous cesspool that people should avoid — also stripped those diverse communities of their chance to tell the world that we should be acknowledged and heard, too.
Four years later, another national spotlight has arrived. It’s only fair to include those voices and perspectives that were unfairly miscast before.
There are issues here that can’t be ignored when those stories about Minnesota are told. The achievement gap between Black and white students in Minneapolis is not just unfortunate but unacceptable. And the recent rash of hate crimes against our Muslim community must be mentioned, too. The Indigenous community’s ongoing struggle for recognition of its history and its undeniable impact on this state should also be validated.
For marginalized folks, it’s not possible to tell whitewashed tales about our collective existence here. But it’s also important to convey the impact, beauty and promise within our communities.
I measure time through my trips to my favorite Vietnamese spot in St. Paul. Twenty years ago, the young man I saw at his family’s restaurant had not yet started middle school. A few weeks ago, I saw him again and he told me that he has a family now. How old am I?
On my commutes through the Twin Cities, I listen to KMOJ — “The People’s Station” — which has represented the Black community of Minnesota for decades. When the cameras return again in the buildup to Election Day, Minnesotans should talk about the Rondo neighborhood and the resilience of those who endured displacement.
Many within our Hmong, Somali and Sudanese communities arrived amid strife in their homelands. The success those communities have captured here should be praised and celebrated. But they’re not alone in their contributions to a place that does not always allow its diversity to take center stage.
Now, we have another opportunity to tell the world about a Minnesota that’s complex, multicultural and hopeful.
The national conversation about Walz includes his blue-collar demeanor. Yes, there is a portion of this state that fits that description and looks like him. But that is not the only image of Minnesota in 2024.
I grew up in the house that hosted all of the family gatherings. The day before a get-together, my mother would send my father throughout the city to find new towels, decorative napkins and tablecloths. She wanted the place to look perfect when company arrived.
I sometimes feel that way in Minnesota, where it’s easier to center the white experience and ignore the perspectives of others when it’s time to discuss this place. But it’s also dishonest.
Because we live here, too.
The railroad company blamed the Saturday night delay on switch issues.