The University of Minnesota student-run and led American Indian Cultural Student Center, or AISCC, hosted their 27th annual spring powwow on April 26 at Maturi Pavilion. 

The powwow kicked off around noon as dancers, drummers, singers and vendors gathered for the two Grand Entries at 1 p.m. and 7 p.m. Under 100 dancers registered in categories like jingle, juniors, tiny tots and golden age.

At the Twin Cities campus, 1.5% of students are Indigenous, while Morris is 31% and Duluth is less than 1%, according to the University’s student data.  

Louie Favila Renville, co-president of AISCC and a third-year student, said hosting a powwow at the University’s Twin Cities campus is important because, as the state’s largest educational institution, it carries a heightened responsibility to represent and include the local Native community.

“I think it’s very important that people come to this event because it’s one of the biggest ones that we host,” Renville said. “It’s the best way to educate people and bring communities together all around the metro and even the whole state of Minnesota.” 

The spring powwow started being held annually at Maturi Pavilion, earlier referred to as the Sports Pavilion, in 1998 by AISCC as a way to amplify Native student voices and engage the wider Twin Cities Native community, according to a 1998 Minnesota Daily article. 

Minneapolis is a significant city for Native people due to the Minnesota Indian Removal Act that forced Native people to move to Minneapolis from their reservations and is a direct result of the U.S. Dakota War of 1862, which exonerated Dakota people from Minnesota.  

Marla Mesarina, a first-year student who is Leech Lake Band of Ojibwe and Sisseton Wahpeton Oyate Dakota, said she felt grateful and excited that the AISCC chose her and Sidney Kingbird-Haugen to serve as head dancers for this year’s spring powwow. 

Mesarina started dancing in her early childhood and said she chose the University to study Ojibwe and early childhood education.

“I’m really grateful that the AISCC thought of me because it gave me and other head dancers a time for us to plant our feet in this university,” Mesarina said. “It gave us our own space and helped me meet new people in AISCC and helped me become more involved in AISCC so I am really glad I was given the opportunity and I am now running for (AISCC) treasurer.”

In 1973, the American Indian Student Association formed during an era of targeted threats and was the main American Indian student organization until the early 2000s. However, Native students have organized events since the 1950s. 

AISCC is located on the second floor of Coffman Memorial Union but was originally established in 1975 in Jones Hall as a meeting space for Indigenous identifying students, according to Cultural Centers CMU.

“I feel like the University, all they do is just acknowledge that they’re on Native land, but they don’t really enforce anything and nothing goes beyond that,” Mesarina said. “I think that’s why it’s amazing that we have AISCC because we enforce that, but having cultural awareness is accepting and being able to acknowledge that you’re on the land of the people. Being able to acknowledge students in your own classrooms.”

Lili Jampsa, AISCC’s community outreach coordinator and a third-year student studying sociology of criminology and justice, said her favorite part of the spring powwow is seeing the changes in attendance throughout the years. 

“I like the drastic difference of how many people come,” Jampsa said. “Sometimes there’s a lot of people, sometimes there’s less people than the next year and then sometimes there’s a lot.”

AISCC plans the spring powwow six months ahead of time in order to avoid miscommunication and last-minute barriers, according to Renville. AISCC is responsible for arranging invited drum groups, the powwow’s emcee, color guard, communication with Maturi’s director and reserving space at the pavilion.

This year, AISCC faced some challenges in coordinating the powwow, Renville said. The challenges included multiple vendors not showing up, reservation time and Maturi Pavilion officials informing AISCC that food trucks could not be permitted. Both are staples at powwows.

“Apparently Maturi ran out of cultural exemptions to allow outside foods for the year,” Renville said. “And that’s something we weren’t expecting and we didn’t understand why they only have two exemptions for a certain year to allow outside food in.” 

Renville said AISCC had a compromise with having inside concessions through Maturi, along with being able to bring in food trucks, but since Maturi had used all of their cultural exemptions for this year’s events, AISCC was not allowed to bring in outside food.

“We wanted to serve our community, our own community’s food, you know,” Renville said. “It’s pretty upsetting, but it’s just something we had to compromise with.”

AISCC relies on the University’s Student Services Fee fund for the powwow, according to Renville and Jampsa. 

Jampsa said the University needs to work more closely with student organizations like AISCC in order to understand applications for funding more efficiently. 

“We lost out on a lot of money that we should have got due to a tiny error on the SSF application,” Jampsa said. “It was really disappointing.”

The location of the spring powwow creates convenient access for students and the broader Twin Cities community, which increases representation for Native students, Jampsa said. 

“I love dancing. I dance. It’s something I get to do like once or twice a year. I don’t travel far to dance,” Jampsa said. “I feel like my work has paid off or like, I’m getting rewarded for the work that I’ve put in otherwise. It’s kind of like studying for a test, and you get a good grade back and you’re like, ‘God, I earned it.’”

Performing at the Weisman Art Museum on April 25, Wisconsin-based band Bizhiki combines traditional powwow music with modern technology. 

Bizhiki released their debut album “Unbound” on July 19, 2024 under Indiana-based independent record label Jagjaguwar and have since received recognition for their music, according to Bizhiki’s manager, Molly Beahen. 

Bizhiki is one of First Avenue’s Best New Bands of 2024 and additionally one of 10 artists voted to be included in the 2025 Minnesota Music Month Scouting Report for The Current. 

Vocalist Joe Rainey, who is enrolled in the Red Lake Band of Ojibwe, said the performance at the Weisman began after meeting Brenda Child, an author and professor of American studies at the University of Minnesota, at a performance at the University of Wisconsin Eau Claire on April 17. 

“It just was a great connection,” Rainey said. “I’m really happy that Brenda came forward (to us) and (we are) looking forward to performing for the Indigenous community in Minneapolis and that’s what we’re looking forward to most.”

“Unbound” received one of the Ruth Foundation of the Arts inaugural Wisconsin Special Project grants, which Beahen said allows the band to expand in live performances as well as representation. 

“It is exciting to be bringing the performance to the Weisman Art Museum as presented by the George Morrison Center for the Indigenous Arts,” Beahen said. “This band’s live performance is so evocative and moving. The musicians and crew can bring something super special to life in any setting.” 

Bizhiki began in collaboration with Rainey and fellow vocalist Dylan Bizhikiins Jennings, who is Ojibwe enrolled in Bad River Band of Lake Superior Ojibwe, and Sean Carey (S. Carey), who is known for being the drummer and supporting vocalist for Bon Iver, in Wisconsin at the Eaux Claires festival in 2015, according to their website. 

Festival organizers acknowledged that their performances take place on historically Ojibwe land and felt that they needed to include Indigenous musicians. 

“I wish more people would say this, that instead of reading from some land acknowledgement, that they would say, ‘We’re gonna give your people space and just invite you to do what you want to do,’” Jennings said in a posted statement about Bizhiki’s origins.

Bizhiki continues the motto of collaboration throughout their career. 

Beahen began managing Bizhiki over two years ago after managing S. Carey for several years. She said managing the band has felt like a natural fit for all and added as a non-Native person, it is her privilege to amplify the beautiful and important art produced by Bizhiki.

“It has been very rewarding to see Bizhiki’s growth and recognition over the past couple of years,” Beahen said. “They are incredibly talented musicians in their own right. Together they’re doing something wholly unique and special, especially as it relates to sharing Joe and Dylan’s Ojibwe culture and life ways to a widening audience.”

When asked why students should listen to Bizhiki’s music, Rainey responded by explaining the song “Trying to Live” from “Unbound.” The song begins with traditional vocals and an intense drum beat then transfers into a psychedelic beat behind the vocals.

“Hey oh hey oh hey, they don’t want us to live,” Rainey said. “That’s how it is, that’s just how it is. They don’t want us to live here, we’re just trying to live.”

Rainey said the lyrics relate to everyday issues Indigenous people face and convey the mission Bizhiki holds in their music. He said young people, such as university students, hold power and understand what they need to be fighting for in order to reach visibility in society and the arts.

“A lot of people who are disconnected from issues probably don’t have young people in their lives,” Rainey said. “I think the young population understands what they need to be fighting for and we’re depending on the younger generations. And what’s going on right now, I feel for the younger generation. It’s so stressful.”

Bizhiki wants listeners who might be unfamiliar with traditional Indigenous music to acknowledge, recognize and learn from the stories their songs and beats are telling. Tracks from “Unbound” discuss topics ranging from colonization, land reclamation, the decolonization of the mind and further a conversation about representation in the arts.

Tracks titled “Gigawaabamin (Come Through),” “Franklin Warrior,” “She’s All We Have” and “Nashke!” reflect Bizhiki’s cultural roots as well as Rainey and Jenning’s ties to Minneapolis and the Native communities in Minnesota. 

Rainey said he is excited to be back in Minneapolis after settling in Wisconsin, especially because he gets to watch Timberwolves play-offs. 

“I’m really hyped to be back in Minneapolis at the same time as play-offs,” Rainey said. “That’s all I breathe is Timberwolves basketball. I’m just very happy.”

Bizhiki is performing a sold-out show at the Weisman Art Museum on Friday at 7 p.m.

“Everyone is on their A-game,” Beahen said. “Which helps us reimagine which spaces music can occur in. I’m excited to see it all on Friday night.”

The Loft Literary Center offers a series of diverse low-cost creative writing classes and is encouraging more university students to participate. 

The Writers of Color and Indigenous Writers Class Series is intended for writers of BIPOC identities to work on their craft in a space that centers them and their work, according to The Loft’s website. The classes are offered on a pay-what-you-can basis with a suggested fee of $40, but students of any age may enter any amount, including $0.

Founded in 1974, The Loft began gathering poets and writers in Minneapolis in a loft space above a bookstore in Dinkytown across from Kollege Klub, according to Preserving Historic Dinkytown. The Loft has since moved to downtown Minneapolis and has grown to become one of the country’s leading independent literary centers while providing classes for writers, awards, readings and public events, conferences as well as grants for writers.

Marianne Manzler, The Loft’s program director of education, said many students at the University of Minnesota had no idea that The Loft existed, and she encourages writers from all backgrounds to attend their classes.

“I would love, love, love to see more young adults come to our classes,” Manzler said. “I think classes offer a nice sort of supplement to school, they don’t feel like school to me. It feels more like you’re filling your cup. You’re getting creative time. You can pay zero dollars, so just come.”

The Loft began its BIPOC Class Series in 2016 after Japanese-American author and poet David Mura proposed the idea as part of the Minnesota State Arts Board Grant, according to Manzler. Since 2016, the class series has grown from one class with one teaching artist to 30 Black, Indigenous people and people of color artists teaching a series of classes.

The focus of the series is to give writers high-quality skills to better navigate their writing process and careers, according to The Loft. Class topics include community in literary magazines, ABCs of narrative construction, toolkits for poetic forms and authentic cultural representation in children’s literature.

Manzler said writing is crucial at any age, particularly for young adults. She said it is also important to find community in writing as well as accessible, high-quality writing education, as artists grow older.

“I think that writing is so important at any age, especially young adults,” Manzler said. “But I do think that as we get older, it’s also equally as important to have communities that we can reach out to as we grow our creative practice and learn about what it means to be an artist and kind of like an entrepreneur.”

The Loft implemented a five-year strategic framework in 2023 that prioritizes anti-racism, equity and access, authentic community engagement, learning innovation and organizational health and well-being. The center recently celebrated its 50-year anniversary while also redefining its mission statement.

“We’re really re-orienting The Loft around this idea that we have power and resources and we want to be built on values that are anti-racist and dismantle white supremacy,” Manzler said. 

Manzler said The Loft partners with organizations like Green Card Voices to work closely with immigrant communities. She added that working with Black, Indigenous people and people of color organizations is a big part of The Loft’s plan in the Twin Cities and how they maintain diversity and anti-racism system training within the programs. 

Minnesota voters approved the Legacy Amendment in order to preserve arts and cultural heritage in November 2008, according to Minnesota’s Legacy. The amendment created four funds, one of which is the Arts and Cultural Heritage Fund which financially supports artists of all backgrounds, which benefits The Loft. 

“I’ve seen the landscape kind of shift is like building this ecosystem where, you know, literary art supports art, supports all kinds of industries,” Manzler said. “And I think even the building that The Loft is in is a great example of that literary support and hub, and it just shows how important that visibility of literature is beyond reading.”

Manzler said that since the center launched its BIPOC Class Series, there has been a visible transformation in the literary community as well as individual writers.

“I’ve had people tell me that they had never been in this kind of setting before,” Manzler said. “It’s open to anyone to come, but the BIPOC writer series is really geared around centering the experiences, traditions and the issues that writers of colors face. And so being mindful of that in that space. It really is a way to just connect people across differences in a way that is genuine and supportive and centered around writing in the craft of writing.”

Teaching artists of the class series include David Mura, Halee Kirkwood, Taiwana Shambley and Michael Kleber-Diggs. 

The Loft is located on Washington Avenue inside of Open Book and shares space with Milkweed Books, FRGMNT Coffee and the Minnesota Center for Book Arts. The center offers classes both in person and online, ensuring the classes accommodate a 9-5 lifestyle. 

Students interested in the class series are encouraged to sign up. The next class will take place on May 17 from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.

Bayaaga’adowejig ingiw gabegikendaasoowigamigong, or B.I.G. lacrosse team, provides connection to centuries of Indigenous tradition and access to community on campus. 

The University of Minnesota’s Circle of Indigenous Nations (COIN) facilitates the team, which was initially started by two students in 2018 who have since graduated. 

Nicholas DeShaw, the team’s co-advisor, said the team is rooted in the idea of creating community space for lacrosse specifically because of the game’s ties to Native cosmologies. 

“Almost every nation in this area has stories about this game, both within their cultural stories but also it’s just historically significant,” DeShaw said. “Ojibwe communities would travel down to this area and down to Bdote specifically to play and there would be huge games that would happen.”

Bdote is honored as the creation site of Dakota people and is the confluence between the Mississippi and Minnesota River while encompassing other scared sites like Wakáŋ Thípi, Mní Owe Sni and Ohéyawahi. DeShaw said being able to bring lacrosse back to the now known Twin Cities, which was originally Dakota land, is a powerful statement of Native solidarity and tradition reclamation.

Lacrosse, known to Indigenous communities as the Creator’s game, was played for fun, celebration and healing. Ceremonial games are played to restore balance to individual players and their communities as well as expressing respect for the connection between the spirit world and our world, according to MNOpedia.

Taylor Fairbanks, a third-year student, said she considers lacrosse as healing medicine and values the connection that the significance holds for Indigenous women. Fairbanks said when she plays lacrosse, her spiritual, mental, emotional and physical state is balanced.

“I feel a deeper connection with Mother Earth as I’m using the land guide in my body and spirit,” Fairbanks said. “This is very important to recognize because lacrosse is much more than a sport. It’s simply a way of life.”

DeShaw said it is important for Native students to have accessibility to culturally rooted activities on campus because the University is a predominantly white institution that resides on Dakota land. Groups like B.I.G. further representation on campus and open doors to generational healing. 

“I believe having this game be accessible on campus has allowed me to feel empowered as an Indigenous student and a woman,” Fairbanks said. “Especially knowing that we have a dark and hurtful past that has resulted from this institution when it comes to Native people in Mnísota Makóčhe.”

Lacrosse is a rapidly growing sport throughout American colleges and universities, with over 900 programs across all three divisions of NCAA universities, according to the USA Lacrosse website. However, according to Allan Downey’s book “The Creators Game,” the roots of lacrosse are not recognized often, a direct reaction from colonization. 

DeShaw said he would love to see a lacrosse class offered by the University that is focused on the cultural roots of the game so that students can learn and be exposed to Indigenous traditions in a way that is appropriate. He said taking up space in institutions as Native people is a powerful statement and encourages community and healing. 

“I would love to see a class for credit,” DeShaw said. “We do things like play lacrosse or other games or we learn dances or other cultural practices. Or sometimes we go out and forge and gather, and you get credit for that. I think that would be a really, really powerful statement for the university, and I think it would be a cool opportunity even for non-native students to be exposed and participate a little bit in native culture, but in a way that’s appropriate as well.”

B.I.G. is abbreviated from words  that translate to “those who all play lacrosse at college/university.” The word “baaga’adowewin,” meaning lacrosse, carries history in itself. 

“I think what you can conclude is that it’s really tested how ancient this word is and therefore how ancient this game is to our nation,” DeShaw said. “I think it’s important for our lacrosse league, our student ran lacrosse league, to have a name in Ojibwe.”

The future of lacrosse as well as Indigenous language relies on community. By having more representation of Indigenous languages, especially on college campuses, the more normalized language will be. 

“Until we are walking around the world and Ojibwe is just the language you hear, Dakota is just the language you hear around, and I believe we’ll get there someday,” DeShaw said. 

The future of B.I.G. is dependent on the students and community at the University. DeShaw encourages all students who are interested in lacrosse to participate in B.I.G.’s games in order to show solidarity with Indigenous tradition and amplifying the importance of having Indigenous expression in higher education institutions. 

“I’d love to see everyone come out and give it a try and have a good time,” DeShaw said.

The University of Minnesota’s early childhood department is developing a degree program that aims to make an early childhood bachelor’s degree accessible for Ojibwe students. 

In Ojibwe, Wezhinoo’igejig (way-shi-noo-i-gay-jig) means “the ones who show or point the way.” The Wezhinoo’igejig Ojibwe scholar in early childhood is a developing initiative within the University’s early childhood bachelor’s degree program. 

Wezhinoo’igejig combines coursework in child development, early childhood teaching methods and Ojibwe immersion pedagogy, according to the program website. The program is designed for early childhood professionals who want to increase their Ojibwe language skills through work with children and hold a strong mission towards language revitalization.

The idea of Wezhinoo’igejig began after a series of conversations with education officials from Tribal Nations and Tribal Colleges in Minnesota, directors at Tribal Head Start programs and representatives from the College of Education and Human Development at the University.

Sheila Williams Ridge, director and instructor of the University’s Child Development Laboratory School, said the initiative is long overdue and is needed for Native communities to heal. 

“I think it’s so important for us as the University of Minnesota, but also us as professionals in early childhood, to support especially places where things have been wrong and in Indigenous communities where, you know, people were sent or taken from their families and sent to schools,” Ridge said.

Residential schools, also called boarding schools, were systems created by Christian denominations in the early 1800s and funded by the U.S. government in an attempt to assimilate Native children. This was done by abducting the children and punishing them physically and emotionally when displaying their Native language, beliefs or values, according to PBS News. 

In the U.S., there were more than 526 boarding schools in the 19th to 20th century, and nearly 83% of Native school-age children attended boarding schools by 1926. 

“The people who historically did those sorts of things really set up a distrust for school systems. And, I mean, who would want to be a teacher, right?” Ridge said. “Like, if that was your experience that teachers take children away from their families, and teachers, you know, take away parts of your culture.”

The University is a land-grant university, meaning it received federal funding to support its establishment through the Morrill Act of 1862 which allowed for the acquisition of around 95,000 acres of land. A majority of the land was ceded by the Dakota people in the Treaty of 1851, making the University a participant in stealing Native land.

“I think it’s an important time for the University to say, ‘We’re going to help right some of these things that went wrong.’ And the University was part of a system that oppressed people, and so I think that stepping up and saying more than land acknowledgments,” Ridge said. 

Ways to repair some of these things include giving communities tools they need to raise teachers in their community who teach the things that are important to them and share practices they may find useful, Ridge said. 

The program is developed to reach beyond the University’s Twin Cities campus in order to accommodate students residing on tribal lands, offering remote learning and resources and materials to tribal colleges and universities. When students complete the program, they receive only a bachelor’s degree and not a teaching license. 

“We at the University of Minnesota are teaching people how to do things,” Ridge said. “But that’s not a two-way street, we are learning as much as we’re teaching.”

Aubriella Dixon, a first-year student from the Lower Sioux Indian Community near Redwood Falls, said she is looking forward to the future that the University is creating for Indigenous students. 

“It shows the importance of childhood because I feel like people don’t understand how important it is to teach kids language at that young of an age,” Dixon said. “Cause that’s when they retain it the best and when they’re more likely to continue learning it as they get older.”

Dixon works at an early childhood immersion daycare called Čhaŋšáyapi Wakháŋyeža Owáyawa Othí in Lower Sioux and said amplifying efforts surrounding children and Indigenous language is crucial for language revitalization. 

“Specifically early childhood is like bettering the whole community,” Dixon said. “It’s always the mindset of bringing your education back to your people is how I was raised, you always gotta come back.”

Wezhinoo’igejig is a developing program, and is expected to launch in the 2025-26 academic year.

The 10th annual Memorial March for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Relatives gathered in Minneapolis on Friday to shine a light on a systemic disparity. 

The march began around 10:30 a.m. at the newly renovated Minneapolis American Indian Center (MAIC). Information booths from various community organizations gathered in the MAIC’s Niibi Hall, while others congregated in the Frances Fairbanks Memorial Gymnasium to hear families affected by the MMIR epidemic share their stories. 

“We need to bring her home,” Kathy Mishow, whose daughter Kateri went missing 18 years ago, said. “I believe in her. Eventually we’ll have some answers I hope. Somebody out there knows what happened to Kateri.” 

Mishow shared stories of her daughter, who graduated from the Minnesota Transition Charter School in Minneapolis and was a member of a bowling team. Mishow told the crowd about the night she and her husband knew something was wrong and the weeks that followed.

Mishow said they had thought Kateri was outside hanging out with friends, but after multiple calls with no answers, Mishow and her husband found Kateri’s friends knocking on their door.  

“Weeks went by before she was put on the missing list,” Mishow said, weeping. “I got a call from a friend of Kateri’s in jail who said he had heard people talking. He told me, ‘She’s not missing. She’s in the river.’” 

No search was performed, and Kateri is still an open missing persons case in Minnesota.

The next to speak was Teddi Wind, the mother of Nevaeh Kingbird, a 15-year-old girl enrolled in the Red Lake Band of Ojibwe who went missing on Oct. 22, 2021. 

“She would’ve been a senior this year, so dealing with her not being able to graduate high school is really really hard for me, her not being able to go to prom is really really hard for me,” Wind said. 

Among the speakers were Sen. Mary Kunesh and Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan. Kunesh is a descendant of the Standing Rock Indian Reservation and Flanagan is a descendant of the White Earth Band of Ojibwe. 

Flanagan took the stage holding a framed piece of paper, which she announced to be a proclamation declaring Feb. 14, 2025 as Missing and Murdered Indigenous Relatives Day in the State of Mni Sóta Makoce. 

“Chi-miigwetch to everything that you will do to ensure that we remain strong, that we are here together, that we heal collectively, and that one day we will no longer face violence in our community of any kind,” Flanagan said to the crowd. “Because that future is waiting for all of us.”

Marchers took to the streets around noon, standing outside of MAIC shouting the names of lost relatives. 

“Nevaeh Kingbird! Say their name! Allison Lussier! Say their name! Jeremy Jourdain! Say their name! JoJo Boswell! Say their name,” marchers chanted an ongoing list of names, a majority of those who went missing in Minnesota. 

Ashley Buckanaga, 19, was among the marchers. Buckanaga was holding a glittery rainbow sign that read, “Justice for Allison n Ari.” 

“My sister passed away in 2020. She was murdered. She got shot,” Buckanaga said. “She was basically at the wrong place at the wrong time. They still haven’t discovered her murderer, they’re really not doing nothing about it. She was Native.” 

Marching alongside Buckanaga, her family held a banner displaying the face of Buckanaga’s aunt, 47-year-old Allison Lussier, and text saying, “Justice for Allison.” 

Lussier was allegedly killed by her boyfriend in February 2024. Police received numerous calls from Lussier regarding her boyfriend’s abusive behavior, and her last report was filed days before her death in mid-February 2024, according to MPR News. 

“They’re trying to put it as an overdose, which it was not an overdose, her autopsy said she had multiple brain injuries but they’re basically trying to waive it off,” Buckanaga said. 

Indigenous women and girls make up around 1% percent of Minnesota’s population, according to the Minnesota Department of Safety. From 2010 through 2018, 8% percent of all murdered women in Minnesota were Indigenous. 

Marcher Lucia Zaragoza, 18, said growing up as a Native woman has exposed her to the idea that as Native people, one must always be cautious of where they are and what they are doing. She also expressed frustration against authorities due to their reinforcement of historical traumas.

“We’ve already been through this before, there’s no reason we should go through it again,” Zaragoza said. “Colonization created genocide that we were put through, the camps our people were put into and exploited within, breaking treaties and placing us on land that wasn’t good for us and now setting us back to that time.” 

Other community members are advocating for surrounding issues that play into the MMIR epidemic homelessness, substance and alcohol abuse, mental health and cultural exposure. 

The FBI identified the Twin Cities as one of 13 U.S. cities with a particularly high incidence rate of child prostitution, and in 2015, Minnesota had the third-highest number of human trafficking cases, according to the Minnesota Department of Transportation.

“As long as our women are standing, our people are strong,” Flanagan said.