The Heritage Organization of Romanian Americans in Minnesota released its first documentary three years ago. On Sunday, it will premiere another.
Only one Minnesota resident has been confirmed to be among the dead in the bombing, but the incident has affected Minneapolis’ Somali-American community in myriad other ways.
Aside from the print newspaper, ZeHabesha has a robust online edition and a strong presence on social media, with more than a million followers on Facebook.
The class was born out of casual discussions between Lynn Olson, a retired Anoka County judge and founder of Language Central, and the nonprofit’s Latino students.
Farhio Khalif founded the shelter after seeing an unusually high number of domestic abuse cases involving mothers and young girls in the Twin Cities’ East African community.
Known as Dreamers, more than 6,000 Minnesotans who came to the U.S. as children are in the DACA program, which lets recipients legally work and provides temporary protection from deportation.
Issa Mansaray is organizing a community gathering that hopes to push Sierra Leone leaders to more effectively address some of the country’s recurring problems.
A new program is trying to raise awareness about the health consequences of tobacco use among Twin Cities’ Karen people, a community that has unusually high rates of tobacco use.
Dar Al-Farooq Islamic Center and Islamic Da’wa Center are organizing classes that would provide imams and community members training on how to respond to harassment and threats.
“I still stay in touch with these women, which is really nice,” said the 87-year-old Hedren. “It’s lovely. I’m proud of that part of my life.”
League Secretary Emilio Lopez traces Liga Latina’s beginnings to 1997, when Latin American immigrants began getting together in the Twin Cities for scrimmages.
In recent months, immigration assistance centers throughout Minnesota have seen a conspicuous spike in the enrollment in citizenship classes.
Throughout the three decades Somali-Americans have lived in Minnesota, they’ve had a complex relationship with mainstream media — an experience that’s become especially fraught in the last decade.
Today, Hmong-American church leaders in the Twin Cities find themselves playing the unexpected role: bridging a cultural divide between older and younger generations.
A group of Somali-American day care owners recently banded together to form The Minnesota Minority Childcare Association to fight misconceptions about their businesses and educate owners about regulatory issues.
Under the ruling, travelers from six predominantly Muslim countries can only be allowed entry if they have “a credible claim of a bona fide relationship with a person or entity in the United States.”
A cultural divide between the older generation and younger Somali-Americans has many millennials feeling unwelcome at the community’s mosques.
On a June night, Shir Tikvah congregants welcomed members of Dar Al-Hijrah Mosque, from the Cedar-Riverside neighborhood, for an iftar.
Today, churches throughout Minnesota are working to respond to the lack of Spanish-speaking priests and pastors in different ways.
Though many foreign-born entrepreneurs appreciate the state’s progressive politics, they are also well aware of the tendency among white Minnesotans to keep their distance from immigrant-owned businesses.