| When did Minnesota nice become Minnesota nasty? |  |
By John Freivalds
Published 8/29/2020
Duluth News Tribune
When did “Minnesota nice” become “Minnesota nasty?”
Answer: Never was nice. The reputation was an ongoing urban legend that I actually always thought was strange after coming here from Washington, D.C. Since Minnesota was first populated (apart from the Native Indians) by taciturn Scandinavians, outsiders assumed Minnesotans were shy, quiet, respectful, and, deep in their hearts, nice — if not a little slow. You know, the well-meaning innocuous couple well portrayed in the Sven and Ole jokes.
On a recent trip to a New York restaurant, the waitress heard I was from out of town and asked where. “Minnesota," I said, to which she replied, "I'm so sorry."
Events in recent months have shown the world a different intolerant and violent Minnesota, so now we are just like any other place. We can't look down on other states’ bigotry and proclaim, “We're not like that.”
But a quick look at history hides the truth. The term "enemy of the people" was the title of a play written by Norwegian Hendrik Ibsen in 1882, which exposed the moral hypocrisy of a small town in Norway. Short version: the play's hero learns that the water the town's spa comes from is polluted. At first he is congratulated, but then he is criticized for threatening the town's tourist business. He becomes an "enemy of the people.”
This is not unlike Dr. Anthony Fauci now, after telling people to close beaches, avoid Sturgis, and more to stop the spread of the coronavirus. The play is popular again, and the phrase is used everywhere since President Donald Trump started calling the media the "enemy of the people."
Garrison Keillor's “Prairie Home Companion” kept the myth of "Minnesota nice" going. And many firms like Cargill supported his show to portray a positive view of Minnesota.
But while raising three children in diverse schools, I learned it wasn’t so. Whenever we played schools from the Twin Cities’ northern suburbs, they would call our city of St. Louis Park, Minnesota, “St. Jewish Park," and their fans would throw bagels on the field.
My own experiences are tragic.
I was part of a bike trail task force in St. Louis Park. We met with small groups from Golden Valley, a prosperous Twin Cities suburb. The Golden Valley rep said they really didn’t want to cooperate with us as it would bring Jews into their city.
And when I once told an upscale Edina, Minnesota, matron that I was a 30-year member of the Jewish Community Centre, she asked, "How are they?" Huh?
I could go on, as I worked in the grain business with Burton Joseph, who pioneered shipping beet pulp out of Duluth for 30 years, many as chairman of the Anti-Defamation League of B'nai Brith. Oh, the stories that came to his — and my — attention!
Minneapolis wasn't much better for African Americans. According to National Public Radio, the racial inequality there is among the highest in the nation, and Minnesota enacted restrictive housing covenants in order to keep minorities out of certain neighborhoods. Why do you think so many African Americans live in North Minneapolis and Spanish speakers along Lake Street and not in upscale Wayzata or Edina? Change takes time, but the influx of Cambodians, Somalis, Liberians, Russians, Central Americans, and South Americans is changing the demographic landscape — and, hopefully, attitudes.
I am a Latvian, and we had to file a lawsuit to have our meeting hall, along with other eastern Europeans, on Central Avenue in Minneapolis. We have moved on, and now Afghan immigrants call our former building home. The Holy Land restaurant has become the United Nations meeting place.
I am the consul for Latvia in Minnesota and one of 32 consuls in Minneapolis. We support each other as we recount the many moments of prejudice we have met amidst “Minnesota nice.”
Interestingly enough, we hold most of our meetings now at the American Swedish Institute, whose president is also the dean of the consular corps. Now, that is nice.
John Freivalds of Wayzata, Minnesota, is the author of six books and is the honorary consul of Latvia in Minnesota. His website is jfapress.com. He wrote this for the News Tribune.