North Star Journey

Earlier this year, South Korea’s government admitted that widespread corruption had tainted hundreds of thousands of adoptions from its country. Babies who were thought to be orphaned had living parents. Some children were trafficked. Paperwork was falsified. Records were destroyed.Korean adoptees worldwide were left reeling, including here in Minnesota, home to the largest population of Korean adoptees in the U.S. Many had already wrestled with questions of identity and racial and cultural belonging. Now even the small bits of information they had about their past could no longer be trusted.How are Korean adoptees who call Minnesota home responding to this foundational earthquake? Earlier this month, MPR News’ North Star Journey Live project hosted a gathering of adoptees who are deeply invested in the search for truth about their origin stories at Arbeiter Brewing in Minneapolis.Moderated by Twin Cities PBS reporter Kaomi Lee, who is herself an adoptee, the panel shared their personal histories and how the work they do today is moving the narrative forward. Guests: Kaomi Lee is a reporter at Twin Cities PBS. She is also the host of Adapted, one of the longest running Korean adoptee podcasts.Ami Nafzger has been working on behalf of Korean adoptees for decades as the founder of the Korean-based GOAL (Global Overseas Adoptees’ Link) and the newer Minnesota-based Adoptee Hub. Matt McNiff is the board president and director at Camp Choson, one of many Korean culture camps started in the Upper Midwest in response to the wave of adoptions from Korea. Cam Lee Small is a licensed clinical therapist who specializes in adoption literacy, working both here in the Twin Cities and online. He’s also the author of “The Adoptee’s Journey.”Mary Niedermeyer is the CEO of Communities Advancing Prosperity for Immigrants, also known as CAPI, a Minnesota-based nonprofit.Correction (Dec. 2, 2025): An earlier version of this story had an incomplete title for CAPI. The story has been updated.Find a resource guide to learn more about this topic at MPRnews.org.

While holding a can of Budweiser and tending to chicken thighs on a backyard grill, Natalia Mendez talks about their grandfather.“This is like a smell of my childhood,” Mendez says.Mendez occasionally pours some beer on the chicken, making it sizzle and smoke, tempering the flames caused by fat dripping on coals. “My grandpa, when he taught my dad this recipe, said it has to be Budweiser,” Mendez says.  Mendez muses that perhaps their grandfather preferred it because it was a rice beer, instead of wheat, and maybe that gave the chicken a unique flavor.“For a while, they were calling it ‘Budweiser America,’” Mendez continues. “It's interesting to think about my family's legacy to America and what that looks and felt like for them, because my grandpa was an immigrant and a civil rights activist.”‘Chefs that don't get their flowers’Artists Diana Albrecht and Ryan Stopera join Mendez at their south Minneapolis home as they cook their grandfather’s “Drunk Chicken.” It’s one of 12 recipes featured in Albrecht and Stopera’s new cookbook, “Back of House: Recipes from the Caretakers of Our Communities.”“Back of House” is different from the typical cookbook. There are recipes, yes, but Albrecht and Stopera also filled the book with the stories, portraits and documentary photos of the Minnesota people and communities behind the food, from steamed fish and apple stew to tongbaechu kimchi and mulawah flat bread.The chefs featured, who range from at-home to working chefs, are from the diasporas of Mexico, South Korea, Armenia, Ghana, China and beyond.The book “celebrates a lot of chefs that don't get their flowers, that aren't as visible as celebrity chefs, and that feels really special right now,” Stopera says. Many of them "are grandmas and aunties that literally supported the backbone of their family for generations based off the food that they made,” Albrecht says.Albrecht and Stopera began working on the book with the help of a Waterers grant a few years ago, before Albecht relocated from Minneapolis to Los Angeles. The inspiration came partly from Albrecht’s explorations into her own heritage.“I am a Korean adoptee,” she says. “I grew up not knowing anything about Korean culture, and so for me, food was a really easy way in to learn about Korean culture.”Albrecht wanted to expand on her experience — to learn more about food and identity — and took the idea for a book to Stopera, who was running the former cafe at the Northeast Minneapolis arts organization Public Functionary.“Running a cafe for three years just deepened my appreciation for chefs and folks who feed their community,” Stopera says. “It was just an easy response to Diana like, ‘Let's do it.’”Together they photographed and interviewed the chefs at home with their families and friends, and Albrecht designed the book cover to cover. Turning memory into recordAlbrecht says she discovered that so many of the recipes have been passed down orally.“It’s all up in their head, and it’s never been archived, it’s never been written down,” she says. “Oral tradition is very important, but I think in this time, everything gets lost on the internet or lost in our beautiful, beautiful brains, and to have something that is tangible, written down, to preserve, to cherish — I'm learning the value and importance of that.”Stopera says the process of creating the book became a lesson in understanding community. “I've been thinking a lot about third spaces and the need for them, and just the need to gather in person,” he says. ”To spend nearly two years having really beautiful conversations with people about ancestry and culture and history, it made me more present and reminded me that the village can take care of each other.”Mendez knew they wanted to participate to help highlight how immigrant communities have shaped American food.“Especially right now in America, this project specifically feels really, really important, because people who look like me, people who look like us, are being pulled over and legally allowed to be racially profiled, being taken away,” Mendez says. “A lot of these people, especially the people that my grandpa was working with, himself included, were people who just wanted a job and they wanted more opportunities and a place to have kids and let them not have to labor in the fields.”'Drunk Chicken' for communityMendez’s grandfather, Salvador Sanchez Sr. was born in Northern Mexico and, as a young adult, moved to Milwaukee for work. There, Sanchez co-founded the Latin American Union for Civil Rights, one of the first migrant farm worker labor unions in Wisconsin, and organized marches and protests for the Obreros Unidos (United Workers) movement. He died in 2024, while the book was in process. “Drunk Chicken” calls for marinating bone-in skin-on chicken thighs in a mixture of chopped white onion, Adobo seasoning, soy sauce, and, as the book states, “Budweiser [no substitutes].” The book also advises, “Like a lot of cultures based in oral traditions, this is a passed-down recipe with no specific amount of each ingredient. Measure with your heart.”Mendez says it became the family’s Sunday after-church staple, but their grandfather originally created “Drunk Chicken” to feed his community. “This is a legacy recipe, because it's something that was developed because you can feed a lot of people with not a lot of ingredients, quite honestly, for not a lot of money at these camps for laborers,” Mendez says. Stopera pulls some of the new cookbooks out of a box, fresh off the printer. It’s the first time Mendez and Albrecht have seen them. They tear up. “The idea that people could be making his recipe feels so good because it's continuing that legacy of him, like feeding people, working hard and providing for their community,” Mendez says. “That's what this was all about.”Albrecht and Stopera host a release celebration for “Back of House” Nov. 8 at Bar Brava in Minneapolis. There will be a book signing at Public Functionary on Nov. 14.Correction (Nov. 8, 2025): A previous version of this story misattributed a quote. It has been corrected.

Traditionally, a college degree has been seen as a ticket to a secure future.But not today. Thanks to soaring tuition costs and weighty student loans, many people are questioning the value of college. A 2025 Pew Research poll found that only one in four U.S. adults says it’s “extremely or very important to have a four-year college degree” to get a well-paying job. And many young Americans — including Black, Latino and Indigenous students — contend they can build solid careers without seeking further education. In a 2025 survey by New America, a majority of young Americans agreed “there are lots of well-paying, stable jobs that people can find with only a high school diploma or GED.”So is college still worth it — especially when it comes to low-income or first-generation students? Is college still worth it? MPR News’ North Star Journey Live project teamed up with Sahan Journal Community Conversations in October to host a panel discussing the pros and cons of higher education. They also discussed other burgeoning post-secondary options, like trade schools, apprenticeships and becoming an entrepreneur. Guests: Frida Torres Macal is the founder of That Social Invite, an independent social media marketer focused on helping women-owned businesses and professionals grow.Marquan Harper is a sophomore at the University of St. Thomas, where he is double majoring in Digital Media Arts and Marketing Management. He’s also the founder of Ador Hospitality, a Midwest-based hospitality group dedicated to enhancing the nightlife experience for young adults aged 18-24. Jalayah Johnson is enrolled at the Finishing Trades Institute of the Upper Midwest as a second-year glazer apprentice for the Empire House.Ali Osman is a high school counselor at South High School in Minneapolis. Jessica Yang is the senior implementation manager at the Get Ready GEAR UP Minnesota program administered through the Minnesota Office of Higher Education.Subscribe to the MPR News with Angela Davis podcast on: Apple Podcasts, Spotify or RSS. 

MPR News host Angela Davis talks about the power of poetry with Junauda Petrus, the poet laureate for the city of Minneapolis. Junauda says poetry is “soul medicine” that can unite us in our shared humanity. Angela also hears from poet and performer, Tish Jones, about what poetry means to her.Guests:Junauda Petrus is the poet laureate for the city of Minneapolis. She is an author, playwright, filmmaker and co-founder of the experimental artist collective, Free Black Dirt. She is the author of the Coretta Scott King Award-winning young adult novel, “The Stars and the Blackness Between Them,” and the children’s book, “Can We Please Give the Police Department to the Grandmothers?” Tish Jones is a poet, performer and educator in St. Paul. She’s also the founder and executive director of TruArtSpeaks. 

MPR News host Angela Davis talks with a Twin Cities rapper and mindfulness instructor who says yoga saved his life.

Artist Rocky Casillas Aguirre has created a mental health universe populated by a ragtag cast of characters.Twitch is the protagonist. He’s bright orange, with big cartoon eyes and very cute.“He’s a little campfire flame, and he represents the kid in all of us who sees the world with curious eyes and has lots of questions,” Casillas Aguirre says.Then there’s his best friend and mentor, Mystic Weenie, an ancient hot dog.“He’s about 5,000 years old, has a lot of wisdom, has seen a lot of things.” Joining them is the easy-going Pablo. “A little Mexican snail who travels the world with his little knapsack full of snacks,” Casillas Aguirre says. “He wants to learn about different cultures, different ways of life, and his motto is, ‘Slow your roll.’”There’s a talking brain, Dr. Lola the Axolotl and many more. They go on healing journeys together, riding a rainbow of emotions and learning mindfulness. Now, they are on view at the Northfield Arts Guild for Casilla Aguirre’s first solo show, “U are the Universe (Eres El Universo),” a bilingual all-ages immersive exhibition about mental health. How art became a lifelineThe gallery is filled with more than 70 comics, animations and sculptures that employ both English and Spanish, including a medicine cabinet with fake prescriptions for meditation (meditación), laughter (risa), fresh air (aire fresco) and cat cuddles (abraza un gato). In a series of comics, Twitch advises on the different kinds of meditation (sound, breath, walking and more). A comic guide explains “How the body responds to stress/Cómo responde el cuerpo al estrés” with cartoons of a howling amygdala (amígdala) and dancing adrenal glands (glándulas suprarrenales).The exhibition is inspired by Casillas Aguirre’s own challenges with mental health. When the pandemic hit, he began to struggle with anxiety, panic attacks, insomnia and hallucinations.“I didn’t grow up talking about mental health at home, so I didn’t have any resources or tools that I could lean on,” he says.He saw doctors and therapists, and started meditating and drawing.“I took refuge in art, which is something that I’ve done all of my life, as a little kid,” Casillas Aguirre says. “Between meditating and just practicing self-care and drawing my feelings, I found a new purpose, my art found new purpose, and that was to communicate about mental health.”Casillas Aguirre has a background in conservation biology and was the executive director at Sharing Our Roots, a nonprofit regenerative agriculture farm outside of Northfield, but he decided to become a full-time artist.“A lot of my art is geared towards youth, because I'm trying to create the resources that I didn't have growing up in hopes that the kids of today will grow up to be happy, healthy adults tomorrow,” Casillas Aguirre says.He has done art sessions with students at Bridgewater Elementary and has a partnership with the Northfield Public Library, where some of his murals are on view in the children’s section. The library also has copies of his children’s book featuring Twitch and Mystic Weenie: “Where Did the Anxiety Go?”, which is also published in Spanish, Somali and Swahili.Looking at mental health from a Latino perspectiveThe artist’s work is also geared towards the Latino community. Angelica Linder, the library outreach manager who does bilingual programming, says Casillas Aguirre is bringing awareness to an important issue.“Our community, we are not taught how to express our feelings. You just tough it up and move on and then that's it,” Linder says.She likes Casillas Aguirre’s colorful artwork because it makes mental health discussions more approachable and positive. She calls it a “combination of his heritage, the mental health aspect, bringing awareness to some strong issues in our community, and all through art without feeling sad after looking at it.”Casillas Aguirre was born in Tijuana, Mexico, but he spent most of his life in Northfield. At the gallery, he stands in front of one of his posters. It features a little cartoon figure wearing an Aztec headdress surrounded by thought bubbles in English and Spanish. For the piece, Casillas Aguirre interviewed people in the local Latino communities about their anxieties and used their responses, anonymously.“Looking at mental health from a Latino perspective, there are a lot of things that Latinos are stressed out from that the white community may or may not relate to,” he says. “I was undocumented growing up and have been a citizen for about eight years. There are a lot of these things that I can relate to.”The thought bubbles include concerns about going to the doctor without an interpreter, running out of food, childcare, making rent payments and racism.“There’s one that says ‘ICE immigration officials took my friend yesterday. What’s going to happen to her kids?’” Casillas Aguirre says. “That, as we know with the current administration, is happening more and more. Latinos don’t feel safe, they don’t feel welcome.”In his experience, Casillas Aguirre says there’s still a stigma about discussing mental health in the Latino community, which has been heightened by the political climate. He hopes his art can be a catalyst.“A lot of people suffer from anxiety, stress, etcetera, and once we start talking about it more, I really think that that can lead to individual healing and collective healing for entire communities,” Casillas Aguirre says.He points to another poster with community responses. It’s titled “Why don’t we talk about mental health?/¿Por qué no hablamos de la salud mental?”One thought bubble says it’s because society tells them to “keep it together,” others say it’s generational: Their parents didn’t talk about it, so they don’t either.Casillas Aguirre points to Twitch calling out from the bottom of the poster.“Twitch says: Friends, let’s be brave and talk about mental health more at home with our kids and within our communities,” he reads. “If we can allow ourselves to be vulnerable, to be honest with ourselves, to keep our hearts open, we can find healing together. Everyone deserves happiness, including you.” “U are the Universe (Eres El Universo)” closes at the Northfield Arts Guild Aug. 2. In September, the show will travel to Mercado Local in Northfield. The show will then be on view April 13 through June 13, 2026 at the Paradise Center for the Arts in Faribault.

Across Minnesota, there are people working every day to strengthen their communities. Sometimes it starts with a small business. Sometimes, with a personal passion — and sometimes, with a gym. MPR News host Angela Davis talks with Dalton Outlaw — someone who combined all three. He’s an entrepreneur, a boxer and a community leader based in the Rondo neighborhood of St. Paul. Guest:Dalton Outlaw is an entrepreneur, boxer and community leader based in St. Paul, Minnesota. He is the founder and owner of Element Gym, a fitness facility that combines boxing, fitness, and community engagement. Subscribe to the MPR News with Angela Davis podcast on: Apple Podcasts, Spotify or RSS.Use the audio player above to listen to the full conversation.     

82-year-old Ruby Leith Minkel and her daughter Carrie Minkel-Johnson live in the Lower Sioux Indian Community in southwest Minnesota. Together, they make star quilts as gifts for people both within and outside of the community.“I love making the quilts, and it's just something that I appreciate,” Leith Minkel said.When they are not at home in their personal sewing rooms, the two utilize the Lower Sioux Cultural Incubator, a community center that provides a variety of cultural classes, activities and space to use.The quilting studio is lined with several sewing machines. Thread, scissors and other supplies can be found in small plastic bins. The space has two large tables for laying fabrics across, rather than on the floor.‘At least I got her with me’ Leith Minkel first learned to sew in high school, but she didn’t start making star quilts until the mid-1990s. She says she only needed to be shown twice before she started working independently. “I started teaching it. I taught a few women around here that are still doing it, and I'm glad they are, because I don't want that lost. I want to keep that going,” she said. “That's why I got her [Minkel-Johnson] going.” For Minkel-Johnson, a seamstress in her 60’s, she says she never imagined herself making quilts. She finally said ‘yes’ five years ago after many years of her mother asking to teach her. “I never wanted her to teach me how, because I thought, if she teaches me that, what else can she teach me? You know, that was the last thing that I could think of that I wanted to learn from my mother,” she said. “[I] didn't realize it was going to bring us closer together and to spend more time together.” Leith Minkel says it didn’t take long for her daughter to catch on to the sewing patterns, just like herself.   Minkel-Johnson says she enjoys working closely with her mother. Quilting keeps them busy and active with fulfilling order requests or traveling to various powwows together with a table and chairs in tow.“We don't make a lot of money making these quilts. It's more [about] having your little fingerprint on something that's going to be out there,” said Minkel-Johnson, “I'm enjoying it. I love doing it with mom.”Even though the two are neighbors, Minkel-Johnson says the quilts bring them together. Outside of their shared love for quilting, she says it’s rare that they see one another.  “We're so busy trying to get our quilts done. We'll call each other, ‘Okay, what are you doing? How far are you?’” she said.  Leith Minkel shares in those sentiments that she loves being able to share a special bond with her daughter over star quilts.  “It's nice because, at least I got her with me,” Leith Minkel said. ‘It’s an honor’ Birthdays, graduations, weddings or funerals are events in one’s life that may call for a gift of a star quilt or blanket.  “When you're making it, you're thinking of who you're making it for,” Leith Minkel said.  She recently began working on a star quilt for a baby, choosing fabric from children’s cartoons, and pink fabric for a base color. Star quilts can be created in a variety of sizes and colors, depending on the recipient’s age or interests.  However, one thing consistent within the designs of the quilts is the signature diamond-shaped star with eight points.  “The Natives, they came from the Star Nation,” Leith Minkel explains. While holding a quilt with her mother — showcasing a star as its centerpiece with vivid colors of the medicine wheel: yellow, red, black and white — Minkel-Johnson shares what she had been taught about star quilts. She points to the Seven Fire Councils, an alliance of the varying groups of the Dakota, Lakota and Nakota people. The two make their star quilts with this in mind — the points on the quilt represent each of the seven. “And the eighth is for the person who made the star,” she said.  To both, a star quilt represents honor.  “I always feel that it's an honor to give the quilt to them, and I can just feel the honor it is for somebody that's receiving one that we made,” Minkel-Johnson said.  Recently, they made about 50 star quilts for this year’s graduates in the Lower Sioux Indian Community. They also make star quilts upon request for those outside of their community, including graduates living in the Twin Cities area.  Leith Minkel says she can make a full quilt within two days.  “It's something that I'll probably do till the day I'm gone,” Leith Minkel said.Chandra Colvin covers Native American communities in Minnesota for MPR News via Report for America, a national service program that places journalists into local newsrooms to report on undercovered issues and communities. 

MPR News host Angela Davis talks with a brother and sister who are both award-winning storytellers. They talk about their work and how they support each other as part of our MPR News Power Pairs series.Guests: Daniel Bergin is a filmmaker, executive producer and director of history at Twin Cities PBS, where he was hired more than 30 years ago as a production assistant. He has won more than 20 regional Emmy Awards for his films covering diverse topics rooted in Minnesota history, including “Jim Crow of the North,” “North Star: Minnesota’s Black Pioneers,” and “Out North: MNLGBTQ History.” Lea B. Olsen is a veteran TV analyst covering her 15th season with the Minnesota Lynx and is a sideline reporter for the Minnesota Timberwolves. She also covers both the boys’ and girls’ state high school basketball tournaments. Beyond the court, Lea is a professional speaker and the founder of Rethink the Win — a platform that challenges athletes, coaches and parents to see sports as a powerful tool for growth, connection and lifelong impact.Check out Angela’s previous Power Pair conversations.  Do you know a Power Pair?We’d love to hear your ideas for Power Pairs to interview. Send us your suggestions.

Like most school districts in Minnesota, St. Paul Public Schools is facing a complicated set of challenges. Enrollment is up a bit this year, but the small increase follows years of decline. The district faces a budget shortfall, has already made deep cuts and plans to ask voters this fall to approve a tax increase to support schools.  At the same time, student performance is stuck where it was before the pandemic and proposals from President Donald Trump and from Republicans in Congress would reduce support for public education.   MPR News host Angela Davis talks about the challenges facing public education with St. Paul’s new superintendent, Stacie Stanley.  Guest:Stacie Stanley is the superintendent of St. Paul Public Schools, the second largest school district in Minnesota. Prior to joining the district in May, she served three years as the superintendent of Edina Public Schools, as associate superintendent in Eden Prairie Schools and on the leadership team in the Burnsville-Eagan-Savage School District. She’s been a classroom teacher, curriculum math specialist and a principal. She graduated from St. Paul’s Central High School.

It was Memorial Day weekend, five years ago, when George Floyd was killed by Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin. Bystanders recorded the nine-plus minutes that Chauvin calmly kneeled on Floyd’s neck, as the Black man pleaded for help and air. That video rocketed from phone to phone, from media to media and sparked worldwide protests against police brutality.But for the Black community in Minneapolis, Floyd’s murder was just a chapter in a much longer story.Long before 2020, people had been organizing, creating and demanding change. Certainly, in the immediate aftermath of Floyd’s death and Chauvin’s 2021 conviction, progress was made. Businesses and institutions promised to invest in racial equity, to develop new community practices, to reckon with systems of harm.But in the neighborhood where Floyd lived and died, has that change taken root? That was the question at the center of a North Star Journey Live event hosted by MPR News host Angela Davis earlier this month. On May 6, a cross section of Black community leaders came together at Pillsbury House Theatre to talk about real change, deep healing and defiant hope. The conversation was candid, often surprising and ultimately inspiring. North Star Journey Live: Five Years After George Floyd Panelists: Angela Harrelson, George Floyd’s aunt and registered nurseAnthony Taylor, community development lead for the Cultural Wellness Center and outdoor educator-activistJeanelle Austin, founder of the Racial Agency Initiative and a board member for the George Floyd Global MemorialJerome Richardson, cofounder of the youth-led Minnesota Teen ActivistsSigne Harriday, artistic producing director at Pillsbury House + Theatre and lead local organizer for the Million Artist MovementTabitha Montgomery, executive director of the Powderhorn Park Neighborhood AssociationSpecial guests: Junauda Petrus, creative activist and current poet laureate for MinneapolisElder Atum Azzahir, founder and executive director of the Cultural Wellness CenterSubscribe to the MPR News with Angela Davis podcast on: Apple Podcasts, Spotify or RSS. 

About 4,500 people are released from Minnesota prisons each year. Many of them have spent years, if not decades, behind bars, separated from friends, family and community.What happens when they finally return? How do they rebuild their lives during this complex and often precarious transition?That was the topic at a collaborative Sahan Community Live and North Star Journey Live event recorded on April 24 at the St. Paul Neighborhood Network. Co-hosted by MPR News senior editor Brandt Williams and Sahan Journal digital producer Alberto Villafan, formerly incarcerated Minnesotans shared first-hand stories of what makes reentry such a difficult process. Community leaders and reentry advocates also shared what helps and what holds back people as they exit incarceration and reintegrate into their community.Guests: Antonio Williams is the founder and executive director of T.O.N.E. U.P., a grassroots organization dedicated to empowering formerly incarcerated individuals.Rea Smith is the Women’s Services Project Coordinator of the Behavioral Health Division at the Minnesota Department of Human Services.Erick Washington is the co-founder of the Kingsmen Project.James Becker is the assistant federal defender and federal defender representative in the District of Minnesota Reentry Court program.David Riley is an addictions counselor at RS Eden, a Minneapolis-based organization that offers treatment for drug addictions, housing assistance and reentry support.

George Floyd's murder in 2020 led to calls to end police violence and racism. Five years later, advocates say not enough has changed. MPR News host Angela Davis talks with Medaria Arradondo, the retired Minneapolis police chief, about his book, “Chief Rondo: Securing Justice for the Murder of George Floyd.”Guest: Medaria Arradondo is the former police chief for the city of Minneapolis. He is president and CEO of Optimus Sui Consulting and he serves on the Board of Commissioners for the Minneapolis Public Housing Authority. He is also a member of the executive board of the Fentanyl Free Communities Foundation. And he is co-author of the new book, “Chief Rondo: Securing Justice for the Murder of George Floyd.”

When the norms and expectations of the workplace aren’t working for you, what do you do?  If you’re Alex West Steinman, you create your own workplace.  In 2017, West Steinman left a career in advertising and communications and joined three colleagues to found The Coven. Eight years later, The Coven has two coworking sites in the Twin Cities and another five franchise locations in Minnesota and Wisconsin. Along with desk space and professional development, the coworking network provides an inclusive community that lifts up its members. MPR News host Angela Davis talks to Alex West Steinman about her entrepreneurial journey and how to create workplaces that are welcoming.    This conversation was made possible in part by the Minnesota Legacy Amendment's Arts & Cultural Heritage Fund.

Sitting on a frontage road perched above the interstate, hemmed by roads and nondescript government buildings near the Capitol, 12th and Robert streets in St. Paul isn’t much to look at. But in 1903, this was the place to be if you loved baseball. There, the St. Paul Saints and the St. Paul Colored Gophers — two of the city’s historic baseball teams — played at the Pillbox, sometimes called the “Downtown Ball Park,” a popular venue almost laughably small for baseball."It was a tiny ballpark,” said Stew Thornley, a local baseball historian who’s seeking approval this year for a plaque to commemorate the Pillbox and its history in St. Paul."Even if you hit a ball over the fence, right down the line, it was worth only two bases,” he said. “There were another set of poles out to left and right center field. You had to get it more to center field and over the fence for it to be considered a home run."Home plate faced northwest, at what would be the site of the state Capitol, which was completed in 1905, two years after the Pillbox opened.While the Saints history is well-known, historians say the Colored Gophers were key to the history of Black baseball in Minnesota and across the country. They played a decade before the formation of the Negro Leagues."They are probably one of the greatest baseball teams, white or Black, in Minnesota history,” said Frank White, who wrote a book about Black baseball history in Minnesota. "And in terms of Black baseball, they are, for sure, the team.”  MPR News The history of black baseball in Minnesota Starting in 1907, the St. Paul Colored Gophers wrapped up a four-year run with a 380-89-2 record — winning more than 80 percent of their games — under legendary team owner Phil “Daddy” Reid, according to the Center for Negro League Baseball Research.Reid sought the fastest ball players he could find from around the country and paid them. The result was dominance, White said. The team beat the Saints in a 1907 unofficial state championship. In a series that was called the Black World Series by some, the Colored Gophers hosted Chicago’s Leland Giants, one of the best Black baseball teams in the country, for a five-game series at the Pillbox, with Minnesota winning the series three games to two.Among the notable players on the Gophers were "Steel Arm” Johnny Taylor, William "Big Bill" Bill Gatewood and Bobby Marshall, who had played football for the Minnesota Gophers. Marshall happened to be one of the most famed Minnesota athletes at the time.Telling ‘the hidden history of Black baseball’After the 1910 season, Bobby Marshall bought the St. Paul Gophers. The team changed its name to the Twin Cities Gophers. The ballpark on Lexington Avenue near University Avenue became more popular and the Pillbox soon closed. It's such a distant memory that it has been forgotten by most.But not by Thornley. He has applied to put up a memorial plaque next to the Minnesota Department of Health laboratory where the park once stood."It's got greater significance than just to somebody like me who loves baseball, loves the old ballparks,” he said.“The chance to tell the story, the story of baseball, the story of the ballpark, but especially with the hidden history of Black baseball … many people here in Minnesota have been digging that history out and telling those stories. And this is one more way to do that,” Thornley said.He and others have worked to get plaques up at other baseball sites around the Twin Cities. But the application for the Pillbox site is more time-consuming than most. That’s because it sits on the Capitol complex and has to go through the Capitol Area Architectural and Planning Board. On top of that, it is the first application received since the board created a new multistep application procedure.The new process was put into place after the Christopher Columbus statue outside the Capitol was torn down by protesters in June 2020. The new process was put into place to make sure there is ample opportunity for public input on things being added or removed to the Capitol grounds. The staff at the Capitol architectural board say the application process for the marker for the Pillbox could take six to eight months, or longer."It's definitely a more involved process,” said Tina Chimuzu, a planning fellow at the CAAPB. She says the board considers many factors in applications, including whether it has public support.“Documented public support for the artwork, and the artwork has to have lasting statewide significance for Minnesotans,” she said. “And then the artwork has to be respectful of the diversity of Minnesotans. And then, does viewing the artwork provide a rich experience to broaden the understanding of Minnesota-shared history, heritage and culture?"Erik Cedarleaf Dahl, executive secretary for the Capitol Area Architectural and Planning Board, said the team works to confirm and fact-check everything in the application. The goal is to learn as much as possible about it in their own research. "With limited space on the Capitol Mall, we want to make sure that what we're putting there is totally accurate, especially if you're going to go through this,” he said. “To ask taxpayers dollars to spend this time on this … we want to make sure that it is accurate and the process is effective."Public input on the application for the Pillbox field plaque is open until May 5.If all goes as planned, the plaque could be up this fall, although it still has several more fences to clear.

The Trump administration has proposed new executive orders and policies that are changing the lives of millions of immigrants. Dozens of international students have had their visas cancelled, birthright citizenship is being challenged and non-citizens — including those with authorization to work in the U.S. — have been removed quickly from the country without a court hearing. MPR News host Angela Davis talks with Gloria Contreras Edin, an immigration attorney who has been has been following changes in immigration policy for years. They will talk about Gloria’s journey, what inspired her to pursue law and what she’s seeing on the ground as policies change.   Guests: Gloria Contreras Edin is an immigration attorney in St. Paul who has represented clients from more than 25 countries. She is also an adjunct professor at Mitchell Hamline School of Law.  Here is a list of resources that were mentioned during the show:The Immigrant Law Center of MinnesotaThe Advocates for Human RightsThe International Institute of Minnesota

The COVID-19 pandemic exacerbated disparities within Minnesota's health care system that have existed for decades. Black, brown and Native Minnesotans died at a higher rate from the virus than their white neighbors, and it took them longer to get vaccinated.  As a result, health care and community leaders promised to renew their efforts to help all Minnesotans get access to quality, affordable care. Five years later, how’s that going?North Star Journey Live, a event series from MPR News, took that question to Mandy’s Coffee & Cafe in Red Wing on March 26 to get an honest assessment from community leaders who are doing the work every day. MPR News host Angela Davis talked with a county public health leader and the founder of a nonprofit clinic that’s stepped into many of Minnesota’s health care gaps. Together, they paint a picture of how health equity in rural communities has gotten better — and how they now fear it could get worse. Guests: Julie Malyon is the executive director and founder of CARE Clinic.Kristin Johnson is the deputy director of Goodhue County Health and Human Services.

In a Minneapolis rehearsal room, a group of Somali musicians gathers in a circle, playing music rooted in the cafés of Mogadishu. The sound is emotional, rhythmic and steeped in memory. It’s called “Somali blues.”“The lyrics are just showing you what it means,” says Ahmed Ismail Yusuf, the group’s leader. The style is similar to what you might have heard in Somalia before the civil war.“It is this lugubrious, lamentation [of] love not returned.”Yusuf and the small outfit — called Ardaa — are rehearsing for an upcoming concert, “Meet You at the Crossroads.” The concert is co-produced by the University of St. Thomas’ Jay Phillips Center for Interreligious Studies and the Cultural Fluency Initiative.“This is really about the life of the city. There are more cultural groups in the Twin Cities than ever,” said David Jordan Harris, who works with the Jay Phillips Center and curated the concert. “Yet, do we know each other? How do we learn about each other? And you know, no better method than our musical traditions.” “Meet You at the Crossroads” will bring together Somali blues and songs inspired by Black gospel music. The idea came from a previous experiment Harris developed with Beck Lee, who runs the Cultural Fluency Initiative. “We did sort of a proof of concept concert salon a little while ago where we where we juxtaposed Sephardic music and Somali music,” Lee said. “It was just interesting to be able to experience those two musical cultures and juxtaposition and talk about it.”This time, Lee and Harris invited Yusuf to lead the Somali music, and JD Steele to bring the Black soul repertoire.“I love cross-cultural, cross-genre projects, because I've been doing them my entire career,” said Steele, known for his long career in the performing arts, and as a member of the well known family band, The Steeles. “Combining multicultural communities, it just excites me.”Steele will perform with his own band and the MacPhail Community Youth Choir, which he directs. Steele and Yusuf are also collaborating on a new song that the youth choir will sing at the concert. During rehearsal with the choir, Yusuf said it had been a long time since he’d taken part in something like it.“The last one that I was [in], was in Somalia,” Yusuf said, adding praise for Steele’s work with the choir. “Seriously, you can see the master in hand.”As the performances approach, Steele said the goal is simple: to leave people feeling better than when they arrived.“Because right now, the need for uplifting, encouragement and inspiration is very palpable in our communities. So you know that's our responsibility as artists — is to uplift and inspire and encourage,” Steele said. The first concert takes place April 6 at the University of St. Thomas, launching the school’s Culture of Encounter Ideas Festival. Another performance is set for April 27 at St. John’s University in Collegeville.Correction (April 4, 2025): This story has been updated with the correct name of the concert series.Correction (April 23, 2025): This story originally misspelled the name of the music group, Ardaa. The story has been updated.

Patrick Kruse is a member of the Red Cliff Band of Lake Superior Chippewa and a descendant of the Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe. He lives and works along the shore of Mille Lacs Lake and has been creating birchbark art since the late ‘80s.  As a young adult, he says his mother had a dream where he worked with birchbark.  “My mom, kind of, not scolded, but warned me of the cultural significance of birchbark and not to be wasting it, because it's sacred,” he said.  He creates wall hangings and baskets, with scenes and images of nature. Kruse has even made birchbark cradles with colorful Ojibwe floral designs. Kruse says birchbark has always been used to tell stories. A prominent figure in several of his pieces is the Thunderbird, a spiritual figure in Ojibwe culture. He depicts the Thunderbird, using birchbark of various tones, surrounded by florals to show the changing of seasons. “When Native Americans hear the first thunder and lightning coming, they understand that it's the change of season — spring, flowers and rain. So, everything, instead of frozen ground, frozen tundra, everything starts growing,” Kruse said.  Melissa Fowler is a birchbark artist from the Lac Courte Oreilles Band of Lake Superior Chippewa. She began working with birchbark 14 years ago after becoming more involved in learning cultural traditions.  She fears that working with birchbark could become a lost artform someday.  Fowler has created elaborate pieces, including contemporary ones. She hopes to inspire younger people with pieces, such as earrings and a crossbody handbag. “I know that we don’t preserve our food in it [birchbark] anymore but maybe wearing it as an adornment is something that really excites people and makes people feel good about themselves as a way to push that forward into our contemporary society,” Fowler said.  Kruse shares those sentiments. He says he doesn’t know many other people who work with birchbark. Alongside his work as an artist, he shares the knowledge of birchbark with those wanting to learn. “I’m trying to teach a better way about the birch and the forest, the water and the rice, different things I promote them things because it's important,” Kruse said. “I’m not going to be here, but these children, and the children’s children are going to be here.” According to Fowler, the Ojibwe word for birchbark is “wiigwaas.” She says the wiigwaas and birch tree are referred to as the tree of life, an important part of the survival of Ojibwe people.  “We would use birchbark on a daily basis, from gathering to preserving our food and water, our canoes, our shelter.  We'd use it for medicine. We'd even use it to record our teachings and stories on birchbark scrolls,” she said.   Not a single piece of bark goes to waste either. Kruse says he uses leftover pieces to create smaller artworks or to make baskets.  “I learned that even the most smallest birchbark can be used to make a nice little piece of art,” Kruse said. “So, we try not to waste nothing.” He says learning about culture and participating in traditional crafts gives people strength.  “It brings hope, and it gives you better strength, because you're actually doing some work in whether it's small, big, medium." Fowler currently has an exhibit at the MacRostie Art Center in Grand Rapids, titled, “Endazhi-Dabendaagoziyaan - The Place Where I Belong.” She says her artwork will be at the Dr. Robert Powless Cultural Center in Duluth in August.  Kruse’s artworks are featured in various collections and locations, including but not limited to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, the Science Museum of Minnesota and Minnesota Historical Society in downtown St. Paul and the Mille Lacs Indian Museum and Trading Post in Onamia.  

On a corner in the center of St. Cloud, next to a former Wells Fargo bank, Abdikadir Bashir can view bustling cultural malls in three directions.There’s a restaurant, a cafe, retail shops, a halal market, a health clinic — all started by East African immigrants who now call St. Cloud home.This busy hub is the heart of the recently arrived immigrant community in St. Cloud. Bashir, executive director of the Center for African Immigrants and Refugees Organization, said it challenges stereotypes of immigrants as a drain on the community.“This neighborhood is a testament to the contrary — that immigrants come here and do make the new communities better, economically, socially and culturally,” Bashir said. “And that’s what we also intend to continue.”St. Cloud-based CAIRO provides services and support to immigrants and refugees, including education, health programs and workforce training. Those efforts have expanded to include helping address the shortage of housing in St. Cloud, one of multiple local efforts led by people of color.CAIRO bought the nearly 4-acre property on 33rd Avenue and Third Street North last year. It plans a mixed-use development with commercial, office and event space, and 70 rental apartments. “We came to realize that housing anchors everything,” Bashir said. “It is the foundation to human development. It is the foundation to community progress. Without a roof over your head, children will not be able to go to school. You will not be healthy. You will not be prospering economically.”The project is named Iskufilan Village. The Somali word means sufficient, whole or complete. Its supporters envision a thriving community hub that fosters a sense of belonging, with local businesses and essential services conveniently close by.Most of the 70 apartments will have three or four bedrooms. Bashir said that space is crucial for larger immigrant families that often include six or more people, compared to the U.S. average of 2.5.“We hear of moms that tend to hide their pregnancies, sometimes out of fear of growing out of their current apartment, or getting kicked out by a landlord,” he said. “I have heard stories of a family living in two adjacent apartments because one apartment is not (large) enough for them.”   The housing will be open to anyone, not restricted to immigrants or any certain demographics. Bashir said the project is driven by a belief in East African culture of a collective responsibility to solve problems.“It is led by the community,” he said. “It’s coming from the community, because we have that lived experience.”At least 10 percent of the units will be designated as affordable, and the rest targeted toward middle-income working residents. Nearly half of St. Cloud’s renters are cost-burdened, meaning they spend more than 30 percent of their income on housing.CAIRO is putting together the private financing for the project. They're also asking the Legislature for $5 million in state funds.At a recent Senate housing committee meeting, Farhiya Iman spoke in favor of the project. She’s an educator and social worker who’s lived in St. Cloud for 20 years.Iman said she frequently sees families working full time, but still unable to find affordable housing.“Housing isn’t just about walls and roof. It’s about stability. It’s about dignity. It’s about opportunity,” she said. “And for far too many families in St. Cloud, that opportunity does not exist.”St. Cloud’s need for apartments is just the start. A recent study estimated the city needs 17,000 new housing units over the next 15 years.Mayor Jake Anderson, who took office in January, said the city also needs single-family homes, senior housing and low-income housing. Without adequate housing, it’s difficult for the city to attract new businesses, and it risks losing workers and talent to other places, Anderson said.“If you’re not adding housing and then families are beginning to expand, they’re going to move,” he said. “So you may see migration out of the city to either other cities in the region or other regional centers.”Another St. Cloud group wants to make the dream of home ownership a reality for more people.Dreamliner Estates LLC was founded by three community leaders of color who come from different professional backgrounds: public transit, community engagement and finance.“We see the struggles when it comes to underrepresented communities, people of color and we see the struggles, how hard it is for them to even attain housing,” said co-founder Ryan Daniel, who is also CEO of St. Cloud Metro Bus, the city’s transit service.Owning a home is important for families to build generational wealth, Daniel said. But statistically, home ownership rates in St. Cloud are lower for people of color.Daniel’s partners are Eunice Adjei and Emmanuel Oppong. The siblings are originally from Ghana, West Africa, and have both lived in St. Cloud for more than a decade.Adjei is director of multicultural services for St. Cloud Financial Credit Union. She said the application process often deters people in underserved communities from buying a home.“We really want to make sure that they understand all the rules when it comes to housing, so that that wouldn’t deter them from being part of the solution,” Adjei said.Dreamliner Estates secured a $3.4 million state grant from Minnesota Housing for the first phase. Daniel said they hope to complete four homes on St. Cloud’s south side by the end of the year. Eventually, they plan to build a total of 34 homes.The plan calls for twin homes, each with four bedrooms, to accommodate large families or several generations living together, which is common in collectivist cultures.“Some demographics prefer to have not just Mom, Dad and kids,” said Oppong, who also serves as the city’s community engagement director. “They want to have Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandad, nephews and cousins all living closely.”An Islamic prohibition on paying or earning interest can make it challenging for Muslims to buy a home. Adjei said St. Cloud Financial Credit Union, Stearns Bank and other area lending institutions currently provide or plan to offer Sharia-compliant alternatives to traditional mortgages.Both organizations say they know their projects are only a first step toward meeting the community's housing shortage.“Like they say, a journey of 1,000 miles starts with one step,” Bashir said. “This is that one step.”