Born Here, Shut Out Here: Minnesota’s Betrayal of Its Black American Communities



By Don Allen - Journal Of A Black Teacher (2025)


Minnesota’s newest export isn’t innovation or justice, it’s exclusion. And not just the old Jim Crow kind, but a slick, bureaucratic variety wrapped in buzzwords like “equity” and “accountability.” Let’s call it what it is: the new racism, state-sanctioned exclusion of Black Minnesotans from economic opportunity, masked as progressive policy.

Take the multi-billion-dollar Feeding Our Future scandal. According to reports, over half of the $1.8 billion billed through state programs was tied to fraud, waste, or abuse, source: KSTP News. Where was Minnesota’s Department of Education (MDE) during this free-for-all? Asleep? Willfully blind? Busy scrutinizing the wrong people? While fake meal sites raked in millions, actual Black-led churches across the state were feeding congregations daily with no help from the state. These churches, often run by Black Minnesotans born, raised, and educated right here, were left out of the funding loop, not because they weren’t capable, but because they weren’t the “new Negroes” - the ones who fit the state's polished image of who’s worthy.

The Black community in Minnesota watched in real-time as pop-up LLCs secured millions in nutrition dollars, many of them overnight, with no real track record, no cultural ties, and no interest in serving anyone but themselves. Meanwhile, Black organizations with deep roots and documented needs were denied or ignored. Why? Because someone in a glass office at MDE decided these native Black Minnesotans weren’t good enough. That’s not just an oversight. That’s economic violence.

This wasn’t a one-time incident. It’s a pattern.

Let’s talk about education. The U.S. Department of Justice just filed a lawsuit against Minneapolis Public Schools (MPS), accusing it of discriminating in hiring and employment practices by giving preferential treatment to “underrepresented” groups based on race and sex, even creating a program called Black Men Teach that gave some Black men a seat at the table, while ignoring and excluding others.

What the lawsuit uncovers isn’t just a policy gone too far; it’s 20 years of gatekeeping. For decades, Black male educators have been systematically derailed, dismissed, and passed over in Minneapolis. Some were let in through “special programs,” but many more were told, silently or explicitly, that they weren’t the right fit. The district, which brands itself as equity-centered, built a leadership caste that recycles the same faces, ideas, and failures. This elite group cannot possibly solve the deep challenges facing schools in the Twin Cities because they are too invested in maintaining control. The DOJ lawsuit is not just a legal battle; it’s a mirror.

So, what are we seeing in the mirror?

We see that systems in Minnesota claim to support equity while building walls around economic opportunity. We see that Black-led churches are left to feed people without help, while shady shell organizations walk off with millions. We see that qualified Black male teachers are excluded unless they are channeled through a narrow, politically palatable pipeline. We see the same people leading the same departments, making the same decisions, even after being complicit in historic failures of justice and integrity.

And still, no accountability. No mass resignations. No restructuring. Just more “task forces” and PowerPoint presentations on racial healing.

We know this isn’t just about individual bad actors. It’s about systems that protect themselves. The MDE didn’t just mismanage a few grants; it actively created barriers that excluded trusted Black institutions. MPS didn’t just draft a problematic contract; it perpetuated a culture where certain Black educators were lifted up as props while others were buried professionally.

Let’s be honest: in Minnesota, diversity is curated. You’re welcome as long as you’re the “right kind” of Black, quiet, compliant, and connected. But if you’re bold, experienced, and critical of the system? You’re shut out. That’s not inclusion. That’s control.

And yet, we’re still told to trust the process. Still told to apply. Still told to wait.

What this moment requires is not more bureaucracy; it requires bold correction. It requires naming the harm: Black Minnesotans were intentionally excluded from public funding and public employment opportunities they were qualified for. They were denied access not because they weren’t good enough, but because they weren’t convenient.

It’s time to stop pretending this is accidental.

The Feeding Our Future fraud, the DOJ lawsuit, and the ongoing marginalization of Black-led institutions are not separate issues. They’re all symptoms of the same disease: a Minnesota that refuses to see Black Americans, especially native sons and daughters, as full partners in building the future.

This is a state where well-dressed equity consultants get six-figure contracts while entire Black churches can't get a food grant. Where white-led nonprofits can say “diversity” and get millions, while Black educators with 20 years in the classroom are told to “start over” in special training cohorts. Where everyone is “included,” just not at the same table, or with the same check.

So where do we go from here?

We demand more than reform. We demand restitution. We demand open audits, resignations, and reallocation of resources to Black and Native organizations with deep community ties. We demand that “equity” stop being a PR slogan and start becoming a measurable, enforceable standard of access.

If Minnesota truly wants to lead the nation in racial equity, it needs to start by looking inward and by listening to the very people it’s systematically excluded. Black Minnesotans don’t need special favors. They need what everyone else gets: a fair shot.

No more gatekeeping. No more ghost nonprofits. No more curated diversity. Just justice.

Because until then, Minnesota isn’t leading anything.

It’s just pretending.

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