The Minnesota Paradox in 2025: Still Nice on the Surface, Still Divided Beneath

Let’s talk about the Minnesota Paradox — and what it really means in 2025. I have brought this phrase up when I try to explain the reality of inequities in our beautiful state of MN, so I figured it was time for me to write an authentic article on it.

Minnesota is often praised as one of the best places to live. We’ve got the parks, the lakes, the good schools, the bike trails, the progressive headlines. But if you’re Black or Brown and actually living here, you know the truth: that “Minnesota nice” doesn’t extend to everyone. I felt that deeply growing up in a predominantly white community. I became “white-washed” because that was the only way I could receive any version of that niceness.

And let me be clear — I don’t carry resentment toward the people in the community I grew up in. That’s what they knew. Some have reached out and apologized for how they treated me. Many haven’t. I even felt it within my own extended family. My mom is white, my dad is Black — and as a child, I was treated with a surface-level kindness. But as I got older, and as I started to understand who I was and embraced my Black identity fully and unapologetically, that “niceness” got real quiet.

When I was featured on the front page of the Star Tribune during the George Floyd protests, it was like a spotlight turned on — and I quickly saw who my real supporters were. And who never truly saw me at all.

That’s the Minnesota Paradox — the gap between how good it looks on paper and how deeply unequal it is in practice. We are consistently ranked among the worst states in the nation for racial disparities across almost every single category — income, education, homeownership, incarceration, maternal health… it goes on.

This isn’t new. And it’s not accidental. These gaps didn’t just “happen.” They’re the direct result of generations of intentional decisions — written into law, baked into systems, and reinforced over time. From redlining and racially restrictive covenants that kept Black families from buying homes in “desirable” neighborhoods, to underfunded schools in communities of color, to banking systems that deny us capital while extracting our labor and culture — every layer of the system was built with barriers already in place for us.

Even now, those barriers haven’t gone away — they’ve just shapeshifted. Today, they look like credit scoring models that penalize us for not having access, zoning laws that block affordable housing near jobs and transit, or business networks that only fund founders who “look the part.” It’s not about individual prejudice — it’s about structures that continue to center whiteness and sideline everyone else.

So when we talk about racial disparities in Minnesota, we can’t treat them like unfortunate coincidences or poor outcomes from a fair game. The game was rigged from the start. And maintaining the status quo is a choice. Which means disrupting it has to be, too.

And yet here we are, still having to prove it.

In 2025, this can’t just be a buzzword for researchers and policymakers to throw around. It has to be a wake-up call. Especially because the state’s growth depends on communities of color. We are the future workforce. The future entrepreneurs. The future homeowners. The future leaders. If we’re left behind — Minnesota’s future doesn’t stand a chance.

So what do we do?

We stop talking about the problem like it’s inevitable and start investing in solutions that actually change lives. That means:

🔸 Equitable housing policies and pathways to homeownership for Black and Brown families
Let’s be real: homeownership is one of the most powerful tools for building generational wealth in this country — and yet, Black and Brown families continue to face higher barriers, lower approval rates, and less access to safe, affordable options. From redlining to modern-day appraisal bias, to racist tendencies of HOA’s- the system has made it hard for us to build equity. In 2025, we need to go beyond talk. We need down payment assistance programs that actually meet people where they’re at. We need to stop allowing cities to block multi-family or mixed-income housing. We need to get intentional about policies that promote ownership, not just renting forever. Wealth starts at the front door — and it’s time we make sure more doors open.

🔸 Funding schools equitably — not based on property taxes that lock in generational disadvantage
Minnesota prides itself on “good schools,” but the truth is, those good schools are often reserved for families living in wealthy, mostly white neighborhoods. Why? Because we tie school funding to property taxes — which means schools in low-income, BIPOC communities are literally funded less. That’s not just unjust — it’s a design flaw. If we care about every child’s potential, we need to overhaul this system. Fund schools based on need, not ZIP code. Invest in culturally responsive curriculum. Hire more BIPOC educators. And close the opportunity gap before it becomes a lifetime achievement gap.

🔸 Investing in BIPOC entrepreneurs and community wealth-building efforts
Entrepreneurship is a pathway to freedom. But too often, BIPOC founders are left out of the capital conversation. We’re over-mentored and underfunded. We get the pitch coaching, the bootcamps — but not the checks. It’s time to flip that. True equity looks like unrestricted grants, access to investors who see the value in diverse founders, and community-controlled funds that keep wealth circulating locally. When BIPOC entrepreneurs thrive, they hire from their communities, they reinvest in their neighborhoods, and they build something that lasts. That’s the kind of wealth we need to be backing.

🔸 Making data-informed decisions with the community, not for them
Too often, people in power collect data about us without ever including us in the process. That’s extractive. Real change requires collaboration. We need disaggregated data that shows the real impact of policies on specific racial and ethnic groups — and we need community members at the table helping interpret, design, and lead from those insights. When data becomes a tool for empowerment — not just measurement — it becomes part of the solution.

🔸 Holding systems accountable — with transparency, representation, and real resources
Equity is not a statement — it’s a strategy. And it means accountability. Who’s at the decision-making table? Who’s controlling the budget? Who’s being held to measurable outcomes? If systems continue to fail communities of color, then those systems need to be reimagined with us, not just “adjusted” around us. Representation matters, but only when paired with power and resources to make change. Transparency matters, but only when it leads to transformation. It’s not enough to say the right thing. We need institutions to do the right thing — consistently, courageously, and with community trust at the center.

The truth is: equity is not just a feel-good goal. It’s a survival strategy for Minnesota. And it’s time we act like it. I know that this take is outspoken, but someone has to be.

I’m not here for performative actions or optics. I’m here for real transformation. And I know I’m not alone.

Let’s build the Minnesota we say we are. Not just for the headlines — but for the people who live here.