This Was Not Just a Celebration
Thank you for reading this post, don't forget to subscribe!Let me be honest with you this year’s Somali Day at the Minnesota State Capitol did not feel like a celebration.
It felt like a community trying to breathe again.
Yes, we came together. Yes, we showed up. But behind every smile was a story of fear, of uncertainty, of families disrupted in ways we never imagined. This gathering came after months that shook our community to its core.
“We Have Built This Place Too”
For decades, Somali Americans have worked, paid taxes, raised families, and contributed to the economy. In places like Minnesota – home to one of the largest Somali populations in the United States – we are not new, and we are not invisible.
And yet, suddenly, many of us felt like strangers again.
As Fartun Weli powerfully expressed, this community has always been deeply engaged – “we vote, we work, we build.” But recent events made people question their safety, even in the places they call home.
Fear Changed Everyday Life
Let’s not sugarcoat it.
People stopped going to work.
Mothers were afraid to go to hospitals.
Families stayed indoors not because they wanted to, but because they felt they had no choice.
Some were taken from their homes. Others didn’t know if their loved ones would return.
Even those with full legal status felt the fear.
And that fear has consequences. Entire households slipped into poverty almost overnight. Community food programs that once served a few hundred families suddenly had to support thousands.
And Still, We Showed Up
Despite everything, Somali leaders, youth, and allies came together.
Not in large numbers because fear is real, but in meaningful ones.
This was not about numbers. It was about presence.
At the Capitol, the message was clear:
- We are part of this country
- We contribute to this society
- We deserve dignity and protection
And most importantly:
We are not leaving.
A Community That Refuses to Break
What gives me hope and what Fartun’s voice reminds us is this:
Even in fear, we organize.
Even in hardship, we support each other.
Even when targeted, we do not disappear.
Minnesotans – Somali and non-Somali alike stood together. Allies showed up. Communities supported one another.
And that matters.
Because resilience is not just survival it’s refusing to be erased.
This moment is bigger than one event.
It is about identity. Belonging. Justice.
The Somali community is not asking for sympathy.
We are asking to be seen for what we are:
Builders. Contributors. Citizens.
And no matter the pressure, that truth will not change.
