I’m Swedish; born and raised in Minneapolis. Minneapolis has been my home my entire life. My ancestors are immigrants. I am the second generation of U.S. citizens in my family. My paternal grandfather, and three great-grandparents came over on the boat from Sweden, looking for a better life — and they found it. My grandparents spoke Swedish, made Swedish meatballs, ate lefsa and lutefisk, and sang hymns in Swedish. Their homes were decorated with items that reflected our Swedish heritage.
My grandpa arrived in his 20s. He left his home, his family and everything he knew to come to Minnesota and start a new life. He was hardworking. His first job was as an iceman. It was back when refrigerators weren’t electric — they had ice compartments to keep things cold, and the iceman came every day or two to deliver a massive block of ice. That was my grandpa. He went up and down two and three flights of stairs with a huge block of ice on each shoulder countless times, until every apartment had its ice. He did this every day, all day.
Later, he became a bricklayer, laying bricks on city streets. They weren’t tar and concrete back then — they were brick. He and my grandma raised two boys during the Depression. Both had full-time jobs. My grandmother did laundry at a hospital a few blocks from their home. At that time, it was unheard of for mothers to work, but they didn’t have much and did what they had to do.
That was my dad’s side of the family. My mom was raised on a farm. They were hardworking too. They didn’t have a lot, but my mom would say that they always had food — so they were better off than others raised in the same era.
Just like many immigrants today, my grandparents came here looking for a better life — not to cause harm, but to work hard and care for their families.
Minneapolis right now is heavy – hard, and at times dark and scary. But there is light. There is life. There is hope, and there is love.
Minneapolis has always come together when things get hard. When the going is tough, we’re there for each other. When we get those big snowstorms, we’re out there, jumping cars that won’t start, pushing them when they get stuck, pulling them out of ditches when they slide off the road. So, it does not surprise me that right now we are showing up for one another in so many ways. We’re donating. We’re protesting. We’re delivering groceries. We’re praying. We’re marching. We’re making a difference — and the world is watching.
The world is with us. People in other countries are marching. Communities across this nation are hitting the streets on our behalf.
And like everything else, this too will pass. But I believe that Minneapolis can make a difference — and will make a difference. I’m proud to live here. I’m proud of these people. Because the one thing we all have in common here in Minnesota, and in our nation, is this: we are all immigrants. Our ancestors came from somewhere else.
When I see what’s happening right now, I can’t help but think about our own families. That five-year-old boy, Liam, who was taken from his driveway while coming home from school and detained with his father — that could’ve been my dad, or one of your ancestors.
So, I just want to say that I am really, really proud of Minnesota. We are strong. We are courageous. We are brave. And there is hope.
Have you ever met a Vikings fan? We don’t back down. We’re not people who quit, throw in the towel, and walk away. If you’ve ever met a Vikings fan, you know this. And we are not people who forget. We’re still talking about the Halloween Blizzard of 1991, when we got more than 30 inches of snow. Even those of us who weren’t alive then know about it — it still comes up in conversation. We won’t forget this either. We’ll be talking about it for the rest of our lives.
In any way you can, please join us. Support us. Encourage us. Posts I read from other countries, states, and cities have meant more than I can say. I scroll through them every day, looking for encouragement, for reminders that we’re not alone. Thank you. You are a blessing to me and many others. You help keep us focused on what is true — that this isn’t just happening to us. It could happen to anyone. We are doing this for everyone.
In moments like these, I return to where I come from — to the stories of those who crossed oceans, worked with tired hands, and believed that a better future was possible. That same hope still lives here. It shows up in quiet acts of kindness, in neighbors helping neighbors, and in a deep belief that love is stronger than fear. Minneapolis is my home, and I still believe in her. I believe we will find our way forward — together.
Leave a Reply