When Swedish, Norwegian and Danish immigrants first set foot in Minnesota, they came for the promise of land and opportunity, but they remained determined to preserve their culture and traditions. 

Nearly 150 years later, Scandinavian cultural centers are living proof of how early settlers shaped Minnesota’s identity.

Today, about 43% of Minnesotans who reported multiple ancestry identify as Scandinavian, according to the 2023 American Community Survey. 

Evidence of the state’s Scandinavian roots is easy to find. From Viking fans cheering “Skol”— a word derived from the Scandinavian “Skål,” meaning “cheers,” — to towns like Lindström, unofficially heralded as “America’s Little Sweden,” Minnesotans take great pride in celebrating their Scandinavian heritage.

Many Scandinavian-American Minnesotans joke that it was only natural for early Scandinavian immigrants to settle in Minnesota in the 1850s through the 1930s. After all, with its frigid winters and the myriad of lakes, it must have looked just like home. 

Although a common misconception, this was not the case, according to Lily Obeda, a teaching specialist in the German, Nordic, Slavic & Dutch Department at the University of Minnesota.

In actuality, a combination of factors Obeda described as a “perfect storm” led to Scandinavian immigration concentrating in the Midwest.

“If these giant waves of immigration had happened in the 1820s, 1830s, you would probably see all of the Scandinavians in Pennsylvania and Ohio and other places that were not quite so far to the west,” Obeda said. “It was just a function of time and sort of good luck on Scandinavians’ part, but it just so happened to look like home.”

The earliest Scandinavian immigrants to Minnesota starting in the early 1850s were mostly Danish, fleeing religious persecution, according to Obeda. Swedes and Norwegians arrived for different reasons. 

After a few good crop years created a crop boom, Swedish and Norwegian farming families were able to have more children and more of those children were able to survive into adulthood. Unfortunately for the younger children, Scandinavian farms were passed down generationally, leaving many unmarried young adults with no farm to inherit and limited land available in their home countries, which led the bravest among them to seek opportunity abroad, Obeda said.

This was further exacerbated by famine in Scandinavia in the 1860s and ‘70s. In 1862, the Homestead Act came into effect, creating a strong pull to the United States for immigrants to whom getting 160 acres of land — much of which was taken from Native Americans through forced removal and broken treaties — seemed like a dream come true, Obeda said.

Cultural heritage remains a defining part of Minnesota’s identity, continuing to influence the state significantly. This legacy is reflected not just in historical records, but in the present day, with Minnesota consistently ranking among the happiest states in the U.S., a mirror of the happiness rankings of the Scandinavian countries.

In the 2024 World Happiness rankings, the three Scandinavian countries, Sweden, Denmark and Norway, all ranked in the top seven. In World Population Review’s 2024 Happiest States rankings, Minnesota ranked third. 

Unlike most historical migrations, where long-distance travel was gradual, Scandinavians were able to reach the U.S. relatively quickly using new technology like steamboats. They could then send for family and community members, establishing insular communities that helped preserve their culture, according to Gilbert Tostevin, an anthropology professor at the University.

Chain migration, a social process where immigrants from a specific area relocate to the same secondary destination, could help explain the concentration of Scandinavian “hot spots” throughout the state, Tostevin said.

“With navigating between states and societies that have different languages and different ways of living, migrants are kind of stepping into an unknown,” Tostevin said. “They’re stepping into a game, and they don’t know the rules.” 

Tostevin said that for early Scandinavian migrants, having a neighbor from their home village who had already navigated the emigration process could ease the transition, simplifying institutional problems and encouraging chain migration.

Cultural centers

One of the biggest ways Scandinavian influence can be seen in Minnesota today is through the state’s cultural centers. Minneapolis is home to many Scandinavian cultural centers, including the American Swedish Institute, Norway House and the Danish American Center.

The American Swedish Institute (ASI)

The American Swedish Institute (ASI) was founded in 1929, when the Turnblad mansion, the residence of Swan Turnblad, a Swedish immigrant and owner of the largest Swedish language newspaper Svenska Amerikanska Posten, was donated to the institute, according to its website.

Erin Swenson-Klatt, the food and handcraft programs coordinator of ASI, said while ASI originally functioned as a social organization providing important ties for people who came from Sweden, in the last 50 years it has shifted to primarily serving Swedish-Americans and showing Swedish culture to the general public.

As the Arts & Culture programs manager, Swenson-Klatt said she has focused on prioritizing creating and featuring programs to meet the changing needs of its membership.

Recently, Swenson-Klatt said this has involved showcasing underrepresented voices of Swedish arts and culture. On June 21, 2025, ASI will open an exhibition featuring work by Salad Hilowle, a Somalian artist who immigrated to Sweden at a young age.

“We live in a world that is totally shaped by migration and cultural exchange,” Swenson-Klatt said. “So wherever we can make more of those connections, find new people to talk to and try out new things, I think we all come away as a stronger and richer society because of that.”

Swenson-Klatt said she does not believe ASI would have been able to flourish as it has had Minnesota not had the concentration of Scandinavian heritage it does.

“I think definitely ASI exists because of the strong history of Scandinavian immigration to Minnesota,” Swenson-Klatt said.

The Danish American Center (DAC)

The Danish American Center (DAC), created in 2005 after the merger of the Danish American Fellowship and Danish senior housing Danebo Home, is an 800-member cultural center meant to share and appreciate Danish culture, according to its website.

Glen Olsen, a longtime member and several-time board member of the DAC, said he was raised connected to his culture, as he was born and raised in Tyler, Minn., which he described as a “happy Danish town” that has kept true to its Danish heritage, albeit in a very American way.

Olsen’s mother was active in many aspects of traditional Danish culture but had a special interest in Danish folk costumes. Olsen said he has been folk dancing since he was young and initially got involved with the Danebo to have a place to dance.

Throughout his time in the first Danebo, which was then encompassed in the DAC, Olsen said he has found that people are typically drawn to the organization through an interest they have in some form of art or cultural activity.

DAC has been a cornerstone of preserving traditional Danish culture, and Olsen said he has seen groups of visitors come to the center and see folk dancing for the first time in their lives.

Despite its membership having in recent history been mostly older people, this year, for the first time in many years, the majority of DAC’s members are 65 and under, according to John Gurley, the vice president of DAC.

Olsen said Minnesota is unique in having a concentration of people with Danish backgrounds, allowing the culture to survive when, in other places, it may have been lost over time.

“We were finding a way to celebrate our heritage because it wasn’t obvious,” Olsen said. “Danes are great assimilators. They didn’t stay Danish very long, and so this is a pretty unusual place.”

Norway House

Norway House is a more recent addition to the keepers of Scandinavian culture in Minnesota, established in 2004 as a contemporary venue to experience Norwegian culture, according to its website.

With many other Norwegian groups in Minnesota, Race Fisher, the development associate at Norway House, said they differentiate themselves by having a unique focus on connecting Minnesotans to contemporary Norwegian culture.

Max Stevenson, Norway House’s chief-of-staff, said like other cultural centers, Norway House is able to bring people a fresh perspective from a different culture, regardless of whether they have Norwegian ancestry. He added this is especially important as each generation becomes more removed from their ancestry.

According to Stevenson, this allows Norway House to attract people who may not have a genetic tie to Norway but are interested in ideas or culture from Norway, such as music, peace-building efforts or art.

“I think a lot of people nowadays are trying to, you know, discover a little bit more about themselves and who they are and their value system,” Stevenson said. “They’re looking for ‘Okay, who am I? Obviously, we’re all immigrants here, and so what is my history?’”

Stevenson said there is an inherent value in learning from other cultures, a belief that has informed Norway House’s collaboration with other cultural centers including the American Indian Cultural Corridor and Latin American and East African communities prominent in the Ventura Village neighborhood in which Norway House is located, a historically immigrant populated neighborhood.

“I think, you know, you gain a lot of perspective seeing how other people live in different cultures, and that really influences you,” Stevenson said. “For those who do not have the opportunity to go abroad, having these cultural institutions are still ways for us to get those ideas of ‘maybe this is how other people do it in the world.’”

Effect on Minnesotan Culture Today

Despite this concentrated early immigration, Scandinavian migration to Minnesota has slowed since that initial boom. Unless an immigrant group has strong ties to the current social world of their home country, they tend to represent a sample from the past, according to Tostevin. 

This is reflected in the unique Scandinavian-American culture seen in present-day Minnesota, according to Swedish immigrant and University affiliate Ingela-Selda Haaland. Originally from southern Sweden, Haaland has lived in Minnesota for over 20 years. 

Haaland has taught Swedish language and culture classes for 15 years at the American Swedish Institute and this fall has begun to teach Swedish language classes full time at the University. 

Since moving to the U.S., Haaland said she has noticed an interesting phenomenon of foods and traditions, especially those associated with the Christmas holiday season, are tied to the identities of Scandinavian-Americans, despite many not being viewed as nationalistic symbols in the countries of origin.

“There’s a crossover between Norwegian traditional Christmas food, Danish traditional foods and Swedish foods, where some might not be part of a Swedish food group, for example, lefse, but they’re very much ingrained in people here who have Swedish heritage, and it has ended up being part of their ‘Swedish foods,’” Haaland said. “In actuality, people don’t eat lefse in Sweden.”

Scandinavian Influence in Modern Times

In recent years, Scandinavian influence in the U.S. has been on the rise. On the social media platform TikTok, where fashion trends are widely created and shared, hashtags like #scandistyle have gained significant traction, with 30.9 thousand posts as of December 2024. #Stockholmstyle has a total of 239.5 thousand posts and #copenhagenstyle has 72.6 thousand. 

The popularity of Scandinavian influencers, like Matilda Djerf — a Swedish lifestyle and fashion influencer whose brand, Djerf Avenue, grew into a $35 million brand in just five years of its founding in 2019 — have played a major role in bringing Scandinavian culture and style to the U.S.

August Hansen, a 20-year-old first-year student at the University, said following Scandinavian fashion has been a way for him to connect with his heritage and dressing in that style makes him feel safe, two things he believes are connected. 

Hansen, who has dual Swedish and American citizenship, spent six months in Sweden when he was 9 years old to acquire citizenship and to learn Swedish, which he is now fluent in.

“I feel more European than I do American a lot of the time, just because (me and my brother) have been raised with Swedish sensibilities,” Hansen said. “I act like a Swede, I feel more comfortable there than I do here. It’s a huge part of my identity makeup.”

Hansen’s mother, who is Swedish, grew up in the Vermont area, and Hansen said he thinks one of the reasons she moved to Minnesota before having him and his brother was because of the state’s Scandinavian heritage.

“I’m lucky to be in a place that has real cultural heritage that is the same as the culture that I come from, and I think it’s really important that you take some time to look at your family history and understand where you come from,” Hansen said. “Those kinds of generational links are what makes us who we are.”

When describing the historical pattern of missing and murdered community members that motivated former roller derby player and Navajo activist Melissa Skeet to roller skate across the United States with a red handprint painted on her face, the name Matoaka came to mind. 

She is known to many as Pocahontas, a Native American woman who fell in love with colonizer Captain John Smith in the 1995 movie of the same name. Indigenous activists remember Matoaka differently, as the first Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) case.

“The first case was Matoaka. She’s what people perceive as Pocahontas from Disney’s perception of it, but really this young 14-year-old was the first MMIW case,” Skeet said. “She was taken from her home by the colonizers that came across the ocean and did the worst things to her and then later killed her.” 

Hundreds of years later, Skeet’s cousin became one of these women, having gone missing before Skeet’s family found out she was murdered in Oklahoma. 

Many missing Indigenous people are never found.

In October, “Skeet Fighter” completed a three-month-long roller skate trip from Washington State to Washington D.C., wearing a red handprint painted across her mouth to bring awareness to the MMIW movement. The entirety of it was documented on her Instagram account, @Skeet_Fighter.

Being a survivor of domestic violence herself and having a cousin who was reported missing and later found to be murdered, Skeet feels an intimate connection to the movement. She described her recent trek as both a healing journey and a burden she is proud to bear to support her people.

“Roller skating for me is my healing journey,” Skeet said. “The red handprint, it does exhaust me because you’re putting a lot onto your shoulders.”

The red handprint has become a recognizable symbol, identifying activists and those who stand in solidarity with the Indigenous community.

Throughout history, visual symbols have been used to identify social movements and create unity within them. 

From Rosie the Riveter’s memorable stance with her sleeve pulled back and arm flexed representing U.S. women’s contribution to the workforce during WW2, now widely identified as a feminist icon, to the image of a raised fist and its long history with the Black Power, and Black Lives Matter movements, there are nearly as many iconic symbols as there are social movements.

According to Douglas Hartmann, a sociology professor at the University of Minnesota who specializes in social movements, symbols not only build momentum for movements but contribute to their legacy, helping them to be remembered beyond the pages of a textbook. 

“It’s a way to kind of encapsulate messages in a quick way and then circulate that pretty broadly,” Hartmann said. 

Physical representations of a cause are particularly useful with movements that have gained popularity outside of their original region as a nonverbal way to connect activists and create a sense of community that can transcend language and country lines, according to Hartmann. 

Hartmann pointed to early Christianity as an example of this. In times of persecution, the symbol of the Ichthys, or the “Jesus fish,” helped Christians identify each other when they could not safely do so otherwise.

“I think any movement that’s broader than a few people, you’ve got to have a means to communicate and consolidate and coordinate people,” Hartmann said.

Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women

Murder is a leading cause of death for American Indians and Alaska Natives, according to a report by the Centers for Disease Control. 

In 2019, homicide was the fifth leading cause of death for Native American men and the seventh leading cause of death for Native American women and girls across the U.S., according to the report. 

From 2010-2018, 8% of murdered women and girls in Minnesota were Native American despite Native Americans making up only 1% of Minnesota’s population, according to the Minnesota Department of Public Safety.

MMIW,  began in Canada around 2015, according to the organization Native Hope. The MMIW movement is also referred to as the MMIP (Missing and Murdered Indigenous People,) or MMIR (Missing and Murdered Indigenous Relatives) movement to be more inclusive to men, two-spirit and otherwise non-female-identifying Native victims of violence. 

The MMIW movement gained mainstream awareness in part due to videos of activists wearing red handprints gaining popularity on social media platforms like TikTok. 

The movement has inspired legal action, changes in legislation and task forces working to identify root causes behind the disproportionate rates of murder and kidnapping in Native communities, especially among women and girls. 

Videos often feature hashtags such as #mmiwawareness, #nativetiktok, #mmiw and #nomoremissingsisters.

Beyond the red handprint’s symbolic representation of the silencing and oppression of Indigenous communities across the U.S. and Canada, the color red has great spiritual significance to many Native people, according to Skeet. 

Some Indigenous people believe that missing spirits living in the spiritual world can see the color red, and therefore the red handprint that activists wear. Skeet said she believes this helps the spirits of murdered Native people find activists they can trust to aid them in their journey for closure.

“Those lost spirits that just are basically lost, trying to find their way home, can follow this individual with the red hand print, allowing them to possibly be healed or bring healing to them,” Skeet said.

Naida Medicine Crow, the community outreach coordinator for the Minnesota Indian Women’s Sexual Assault Coalition (MIWSAC) said MMIR has been happening since colonization, something she is familiar with through her work with MIWSAC to address violence that affects Native communities.

“Our people, to be quite honest, are always on the back burner,” Medicine Crow said. “We’re still seen as not important, we’re still seen as invisible in the community.”

According to Medicine Crow, this stems from a colonized mindset that places a lesser value on Indigenous populations.

Medicine Crow has family and friends affected by missing relatives and has seen firsthand how law enforcement mishandles missing persons cases on and off tribal land.

“I’ve seen the hurt in the community, and I’ve seen the ones that just want to have a voice,” Medicine Crow said. “They’re not around here anymore, and they don’t have, you know, a voice anymore. So we have to stand up for them and try to do what we can for them.”

Medicine Crow said the symbol of the red handprint brought mainstream attention to the MMIW crisis, becoming a physical reminder of a harsh reality for Native communities.

“It’s definitely needed,” Medicine Crow said. “It is a representation of what’s happening in our communities.”

Free Palestine Movement

Since the Oct. 7, 2023 Hamas attack on Israel and subsequent war in Gaza, activists around the world began to call for a free Palestine and an end to what Human Rights Watch co-founder Aryeh Neier, a German-born Jewish holocaust survivor, said is a genocide during an interview with CNN’s Fareed Zakaria.

As of Nov. 13, 2024, Al Jazeera estimates the current death toll as 44,493 Palestinians and 1,139 people killed in Israel since Oct. 7, 2023.

Children accounted for 44% of verified victims over a six-month period, according to the United Nations Human Rights Office.

Protests at universities around the U.S., including the University of Minnesota, have been featured in the news, with student, alumni and faculty protesters asking for divestment from university endowments tied to Israel and increased attention by university administrators and officials on the war in Gaza.

At these protests, students have used significant visual imagery to raise awareness about the war, reenacting the dead, creating banners and notably, wearing keffiyehs, a traditional Arab head scarf historically worn by Bedouin men, a nomadic community in historic Palestine.

In an NPR article, Wafa Ghnaim, a Palestinian dress expert and a senior research fellow at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, said this headdress was first used in a political context in 1936 during the Arab Revolt in Palestine to conceal the identity of fighters.

At protests around the world and in the U.S., it is not uncommon to see protesters wear red, black or white checkered keffiyehs to express solidarity with the Free Palestine movement.

Keffiyehs have sparked controversy, some alleging they signify solidarity with Hamas or promote extremism because they shield protesters’ faces from identification.

This is reflected in comments in recent Minnesota Daily articles about protests on campus.

A group called New York United in Fighting Antisemitism petitioned for a ban on keffiyehs in New York City public schools, describing them as symbols of “hate and violence” and a form of intimidation against Jewish people, according to a New York Post article. 

According to Hartmann, part of the importance of symbols in movements is their ability to create a distinction between those who are “in” and “out” of the movement.

Hartmann said symbols have to be somewhat polarizing because radical or meaningful activism always provokes strong negative reactions.

A Muslim student at the University and Free Palestine activist who asked to remain anonymous for personal safety said he wears a keffiyeh almost every day to be a constant reminder of the war in Gaza.

The student said while keffiyehs have now become synonymous with the Free Palestine movement, they were originally an expression of culture. 

“All the different designs are symbols of the Palestinian image and like, its whole purpose was to keep the Palestinian culture and heritage alive and keep the identity,” the student said.

The student said he wonders if people with negative opinions on keffiyehs’ meaning have proof for their claims.

“If there is no evidence, then are you just intimidated by the idea of the Palestinian identity in general?” the student said.

According to the student, there is significance in each design aspect of keffiyehs, from the fishnet pattern representing Palestinian’s relationship with the Mediterranean Sea, olive leaf designs representing the resilience of the Palestinian people and bolded lines representing historical trade routes.

“It’s a way of, you know, keeping all the knowledge of Palestinian history alive within one design,” the student said. “And it’s a way for people to tell stories throughout each image.”

The student described keffiyehs as a way for Palestinians and those in solidarity to show a united front. He said when he sees someone wearing a keffiyeh, he is comforted in knowing they stand on the right side of history, for human rights.

Women’s Rights Movement in Iran

Roya Nazari, a master’s of fine arts student at the University, moved from Iran to the U.S. to pursue her degree in 2022. 

Nazari originally intended to continue her visual study of mental health and environmental challenges in Iran. However, Nazari’s focus shifted when just a few months after moving across continents, the death of 22-year-old Kurdish-Iranian woman Mahsa Jina Amini in custody of the Islamic Republic of Iran’s morality police sparked a women-led revolution. 

Amini was arrested after allegedly improperly wearing her mandatory hijab, and though government officials said her death was due to preexisting health conditions, her family maintains she was beaten to death by the morality police. 

Now, Nazari aims to bring light to the conditions women face in Iran and the social movement there through her art by focusing on Iranian women’s performance as a tool for starting a revolution.

“I was thinking to myself, ‘Okay, I’m here as a free artist, and it’s my responsibility to explain what’s going on in my country,’” Nazari said. 

According to Hartmann, because we are living in a materialistic world, movements need physical entities or objects to stand in for larger concepts and meanings to be more easily recognized and understood by the public.

“Things that symbolize, especially ideas of resistance movements, I think those make it tangible,” Hartmann said. “They allow it to carry further, give it a permanence and significance.”

A collection of Nazari’s art pieces will be on display at the Hopkins Center for the Arts in the sixth annual Iranian Artists Exhibition organized in conjunction with the Twin Cities Culture Collective until Dec. 1, 2024.

According to human rights organization Amnesty International, the Iranian government has been unrelenting in its crackdown on Women Life Freedom protesters. Research by the organization found government officials have used rape and other forms of sexual violence against detained protesters, including children as young as 12, and increased the use of the death penalty to subdue protests.

Following Mahsa Jina Amini’s death, hundreds of people in and out of Iran took to social media to show solidarity with the women’s movement in Iran. Marches and rallies were organized all over the world, including in Minneapolis.

Documented in social media posts and online videos, many women have been moved to cut off their hair and burn their hijabs to protest against the Iranian government’s “war on women.”

One of Nazari’s art pieces, “The Freedom,” features three locks of hair cut during one such demonstration, given to her by friends after attending a Woman Life Freedom protest in Minneapolis.

Nazari said she seeks out abnormal physical materials to use in her artwork that represent things she has had an emotional reaction to seeing on the news.

By doing this, she said she hopes to inspire curiosity in those who view her art, leading them to research the meaning of symbols such as cutting hair on their own. Nazari said the cutting of hair by activists has two meanings, the first being in protest of Mahsa Amini’s death, and the second emphasizing the importance of hair as a metaphor for something much more painful to lose.

“Hair, it doesn’t matter for us,” Nazari said. “We can cut all of our hair, it doesn’t matter. What we want, we actually want to have freedom.”

Since the Oct. 7, 2023 Hamas attack on Israel and the subsequent conflict in Gaza, Jewish and Muslim students at the University of Minnesota learned to balance their expressions of religious identity with concerns about increased hate speech and isolation from campus communities.

The number of reported antisemitic incidents across the U. S. was 8,873 in 2023, according to an audit by the Anti-Defamation League, an almost 140% increase from 2022.

A report by the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) said they received 8,061 complaints of Islamophobia in the U.S. in 2023, a 56% increase from 2022. Half of those complaints were from the last three months of the year, following the attack by Hamas on Israel on Oct. 7, 2023.

This is the highest number of complaints CAIR has recorded in its 30-year history, according to the report. 

Abdi, a fourth-year student at the University who requested to be partially anonymous due to fear for her safety on campus, said despite the large Muslim community at the University, it can be intimidating for a hijab-wearing Muslim woman to walk around campus because of anti-Muslim rhetoric.

“Honestly my greatest fear is being on campus late at night and being attacked because of my faith and because I do outwardly identify as a Muslim woman,” Abdi said.

As a political science major taking classes about global politics, Abdi said it is upsetting that her professors seem to be shying away from discussing the war in class and not facilitating a space for important conversations.

Abdi transferred to the University last year and said in the early days of the war, she remembers her day-to-day life on campus being a time of fear. 

With memories of targeted attacks she had experienced when she was younger and news about the rise of hate-fueled attacks on Hijabis, Abdi said she minimized her time on campus.

“My first semester, I would come to class and go home,” Abdi said. “I did not want to be on campus. I did not want to be in a place that made me vulnerable.”

Abdi said the U.S.’s lack of regulation on firearms adds to the anxiety she has about being targeted inside a religious space. Abdi said she prays on campus and is worried about being attacked because of her faith.

“Despite that, I still choose to wear my hijab because I believe that God is bigger than my fear,” Abdi said.

A second-year student, who asked to be anonymous due to fear of being targeted for her beliefs, said as a Jewish student, she has been very conscious about heightened rates of antisemitism in the U.S. and on campus.

The student serves on the council of the University’s branch of Hillel, a Jewish student cultural center. The protests outside of Hillel on Oct. 7, while they hosted a memorial service for the people who were killed on Oct. 7, 2023, were a reminder of the safety concerns Jewish students have, she said.

“Having to make that phone call to my parents the next day and be like, ‘Hey, you were right. There were protests,’ was really startling and a little humbling because who wants to admit to their parents that they were right,” she said.

The student said she feels the argument that anti-Zionism is not antisemitism is sometimes used to excuse actual antisemitism.

She said she remembers being told growing up that there are situations where she needs to hide her Star of David necklace for her safety. After Oct. 7, 2023, she now wears a “bring them home” necklace, a slogan calling for the safe return of hostages in Gaza.

According to the student, at the end of spring semester on her way to class, she was offered a flyer at a pro-Palestinian booth. When she declined to take it, she said they yelled “Zionist” at her, prompting her to turn around.

“They saw my necklaces, and I remember they said ‘Oh, it’s cuz you’re a fucking Jew,’” the student said. “That’s just straight-up antisemitic, you can’t call that anti-Zionism.”

The student said incidents like this harm the Palestinian cause, making it more difficult to have open discourse about the war. 

According to her, Jewish students like herself, including those she speaks to as part of her role at Hillel, are dealing with feelings of isolation from the broader campus community.

Izhan Qureishy, a third-year Muslim student at the University, said in Islam, Muslims are called to protect other people, so protesting against the war and raising awareness is a matter of faith, something not always understood by the University community. 

“God commands us to defend people that are being harmed, particularly Muslims,” Qureishy said.

Qureishy has been involved in several Muslim student groups including the Al-Madinah Cultural Center and the Muslim Student Association. He also attends mosques in the University area.

Qureishy often wears a turban and said with that physical identifier of his faith, along with him being visibly Middle Eastern, he is not a stranger to being judged for his identity.

While he has always felt a level of discomfort when asking professors to step out of a class to pray or when doing things that differentiate him from other students, Qureishy said that feeling has increased over the past year.

“The reality of being Muslim has completely changed for many, many people,” Qureishy said.

Qureishy said this increase in attention has, in a way, liberated him from feeling like he should care about what other people think, allowing him to concentrate on using his voice as a way to spread awareness of struggles faced by Muslim people.

According to Qureishy, he has felt gaslit by the media and community spreading the idea that people who protest against the war are supporting terrorism. He said this contributes to the idea that Muslims are strange or “other,” something he added Muslims experienced even before the war.

“There is a framing of Muslims as terrorists, as people who are subhuman,” Qureishy said. 

Qureishy said the war has given him an opportunity to adjust his priorities in life, and shaped the identity of Muslim-American students such as himself.  

“Identity, for a lot of people, myself in particular, has shifted to one of a globalized citizen, a Muslim that cares about justice around the world, rather than an American,” Qureishy said.

An Israeli-American second-year student at the University, who requested anonymity for fear of her or her family being targeted, said she has seen misconceptions about Jewish student beliefs based on their religious identity. 

“I still think it’s important for people to realize that not every Jew is pro-Israel, and a lot of Jews are misled about Israel, there’s a lot of shit that many of us have to unpack,” she said.

The student’s father is from Israel and served in the Israel Defense Forces due to mandatory service. She said she has visited Israel to see her extended family five or six times and has spent many months there. 

She said she wears her Star of David necklace alongside a Palestinian flag bracelet to show solidarity with the Palestinian people and cause. She said she wants Palestinians to know they are safe with her.

The student said although she sees more antisemitism present on campus now than there was a year ago, she does believe reports have been overplayed by the University and certain groups. 

She said at the beginning of the war she believed some pro-Palestinian activist groups tokenized Jewish voices, although that is not as prevalent now.

She said she believes there are “idiots” joining protesting groups on both sides to amplify antisemitism and Islamophobia, but those individuals’ voices are not representative of the beliefs of each side as a whole.

The student said she remembered her and her dad being scared after the Oct. 7, 2023 attack when a former Hamas leader called for a “Global Day of Jihad” on Oct. 13, prompting safety concerns from Jewish communities across the world.

She said that was a conflicting time for her, as it was both “a time of mourning and time of celebration.”

Having supported Palestine for years before the war began, the student said she felt torn. She was scared people would target Jewish people around the world due to their faith, but she also had friends who were pro-Palestine and actively participating in protests against Israel.

She said her stance on the war has made it somewhat difficult to find a structured Jewish cultural community on campus. She wanted to join a Jewish student group or join Hillel last year, but as a student who supports Palestine, she did not feel aligned with their beliefs.

The student said she is constantly affected by the war.

“I’m very surprised that more people don’t live day to day with a pit in their stomach,” she said. “Because I wake up every day and almost every day one of the first things I think about is what’s happening in a place I used to call a second home.”

The University of Minnesota Board of Regents unanimously voted to approve the President’s Recommended FY 2026-27 Biennial Budget Request on Oct. 10.

The Board also unanimously approved the President’s Recommended 2024 Six-Year Capital Plan and 2025 State Capital Request. The Six-year Capital plan is required by Board policy and is the document that sets the direction for major capital projects, according to Alice Roberts-Davis, the vice president of University Services.

For 2025, the University will be requesting $230 million from the state. In 2026, the University will increase its request to $492.5 million, followed by a request of $410 million for 2027.

The capital plan prioritizes updating, maintaining and building various buildings and facilities on campus.

DEI Title VI Initiatives 

Under Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, universities are required to take reasonable steps to eliminate a hostile environment caused by discrimination based on race, color or national origin. This is enforced by the Office for Civil Rights in the U.S. Department of Education.

According to Tina Marisam, the director of the Office of Equal Opportunity and Affirmative Action, in the past few months, seven resolution agreements based on Title VI complaints of discrimination related to Jewish, Muslim and Palestinian identities have been reached with other universities. 

In each of these cases, Marisam said the Office for Civil Rights found the institutions’ responses deficient, causing the University to review its policies and process of handling Title VI- related complaints.

Based on this review, the Equal Opportunity and Title IX Office will be taking four steps to ensure compliance with the Office for Civil Rights.

• The University designated the Office of Equal Opportunity and Affirmative Action to handle all Title VI- related complaints after the Office for Civil Rights indicated institutions should have one office with clear responsibilities over Title IV reports.
• The University is creating a systemwide framework ensuring the University will make an individualized, written assessment of every Title VI report on hostile environments the University found, and what steps it took to fix it
• The University is developing new strategies to handle hostile environments caused by protected speech where disciplinary action can not be used. 
  • Strategies include giving more support and resources to the individual who made the report, and considering the impact of the conduct or hostile environment on the larger community. 
• The University will provide training in 2025 to Equal Opportunity & Title IX staff, student conduct team, bias response team and housing professionals about their responsibilities under Title VI. There will be general training for all employees in March.

AI in Higher Education

According to Provost Rachel Croson, the Board received a request from University governance to consider creating a task force to explore the ways the University can use AI, while navigating its potential dangers.

The Board is considering forming a task force this fall with three tentative subgroups, according to Croson. These subgroups would focus on AI’s impact on teaching and learning, University operations and research.

“AI is everywhere, including on our campuses, and it’s significantly changing the landscape we’re all facing,” Croson said.

Regents, including Mike Kenyanya and Janie Mayeron, reacted positively to this suggestion.

Joscelyn Sturm, a third-year student at the University and Undergraduate Student Government representative on the Board, said as an English major she “lives in fear” of being falsely accused of using AI for an assignment by faulty AI detectors.

Croson said AI-detecting applications have not been approved for use in classrooms and the Board has not recommended them in part because of false positives and general unreliability. 

According to Sturm, the lack of dependability on AI detection could mean the difference between a student leaving the University with a degree or just going home.

Regent Kodi Verhalen said informing students on how to use AI properly will be critical. She added it is important for students to learn how to have conversations with future employers on the proper usage of AI tools in the workforce, which varies between disciplines.

Shashank Priya, the Vice President for Research and Innovation, said providing access to AI that is typically behind a paywall would be cost-intensive. He said the University will have to carefully decide which tools should be made available while looking at the financial implications.

Regent Doug Huebsch said he is concerned that if the University does not provide these tools, the cost barrier will lead to inequity. Students and University members who can afford the cost of AI-informed tools will buy them and have that advantage, while those who can not will not have access.

Priya said there needs to be a different system for looking at AI within the research space. He said in research it is particularly important for mechanisms to be in place to protect non-publicly available data.

Regent Penny Wheeler said she is concerned about using AI in administrative capacities because it is known to exhibit biases that it collects from source material it is trained on. 

“The promising thing about this is once you detect an area of bias, you can actually take it out of an AI algorithm easier than you can take it out of our minds,” Wheeler said.

At the next board meeting in November, Regents will continue to discuss creating an AI- centered task force.

Corrections: A previous version of this article misstated the name of the Equal Opportunity and Title IX office. Other edits made for clarity.

Editor’s Note: Sue asked her full name not be shared due to concerns surrounding her religion and details about the protest. 

SAMANTHA SIEDOW: Hi everyone, my name is Samantha Siedow. I am a staff reporter on the administration desk and you are listening to In The Know, a podcast dedicated to the University of Minnesota.

Today joining me is a really interesting woman named Sue, who was a student at the university from 1971 through 1976. So Sue and I actually met because we’re in a class together, and I’ve got to say, Sue, I think you study harder than anyone else in that class. 

For listeners, just to give them a description, Sue comes to class every day with this great bag full of printouts and highlighted and annotated notes from the readings. I mean, you don’t do anything halfway. 

SUE: It’s a pleasure to be in class with you, Sam. I enjoy being with the young scholars. 

SIEDOW: Well, we all very much benefit from your experience. 

SUE: And I from yours. 

SIEDOW: So today we’re actually here to speak a little bit about one of Sue’s experiences, which was witnessing the Eight Days in May, as they’re called, which was a period of unrest at the University of Minnesota from May 9 through 16 in 1972.

And they are known as the largest and most violent university demonstrations of the Vietnam War era. So during this period of two days at the university, there was a protest in which the Minnesota National Guard unit had a presence at the university after anti-war protesters built a barricade blocking traffic at the intersection of Washington Ave and Church Street Southeast.

So according to a Minnesota Daily article I dug up from the archives written in 1997, dozens of protesters and police were injured in the demonstrations and the resulting altercations. There was a piece in the article that actually mentioned that Dinkytown residents had to keep their windows shut, due to the heavy use of tear gas, to stay safe in their apartments. I mean, this was no small movement at all. 

SUE: No, I was a freshman in college when this all happened. So I was 18 years old. Just turned 18 that September. And, growing up in a small suburb like I did and having certain exposures to the Vietnam War that I had, I did not come into the university, I guess you would say with the bandwidth or the skills set to actually, I wasn’t an activist.

I was a freshman just trying to get through school. And trying to understand what was going on through my personal experiences as they related to the Vietnam War. So, on the day that it happened, we didn’t have the National Guard. They weren’t called in until 1:00 in that morning. Moos was off campus, President Moos.

Eidenberg, or whatever, you can look up his name in this article, was overseeing what was happening. We knew that there were protests going on at what we would have called back then Cedar Riverside, the big housing complex that is up over there. And we knew that was being protested.

And then we knew that with the mining of the harbor that Nixon was going to do, it was gonna hit this campus as well, the Vietnam War. From my understanding, the two protests coalesced on the East Bank. I mean, we were aware it was happening in Dinkytown. We were aware, of course, the Armory would be in the hub of all that.

We were in class. I was in a communications class in the hall right behind Ford Hall. We got out late that afternoon, and when we came out, the first thing that hit us were the sounds and the smells of what was going on. It was loud, it was chaotic. Tear gas, even though it was Minneapolis Police officers, not the Guard, it was just in the air.

And one of the most poignant moments that I remember being 18 and trying to figure this all out for myself, from my personal experiences, was a friend and I came out of our class and back in the day, there was a high school in Dinkytown and we don’t know how she got to where we were. But a young student, who had been tear gassed and was trying to get to the University of Minnesota hospital emergency rooms, got all the way over to behind Ford Hall.

And we found her, and she, her eyes were just watering, and so forth. So we got her to the emergency room. And that is something I will carry with me, as someone who spent all of her life in education, or advocating for young people and their families. That young woman and how that affected her. You just will never forget it. 

The second big experience, because we were not at the Armory and so forth over here, as the chaos came down the mall, was later in the evening. I lived in Comstock Hall. So, right next to Coffman Memorial Union, back then it was all women, and boring. The second big experience came in that evening when the streets had gotten blocked off.

So, Washington Avenue was blocked off. We couldn’t go anywhere. I remember having to call in to work and telling my bosses downtown, I can’t get to work. I can’t get out, the buses can’t come. And they hadn’t quite heard all of what was going on, and they were, “Well, what’s going on?” I said, “Well, we have some protests here at the university, go turn on the radio, go turn on the news.”

I worked at a shop on Nicollet Mall. So, we had that happening, and as the evening progressed, I’m sure you’ve seen the old picture which I showed Sam of the police lining up right in front of Memorial U, Coffman Memorial Union. And that’s where the guest speakers were and, you know, there were rumors, of course, that the Weathermen had come to the U, which, no. It was the SDS, Socialist Democratic Students group that was here.

And the speakers themselves I went to listen. I decided to do that because I wanted to actually learn, since I wasn’t an activist, learn what was going on, listening to why they were saying what they were saying, what they were protesting, and so forth. Now I know during the day from a picture that still exists, in black and white, you see a police officer attacking a student on the grass in the mall.

That night, I don’t recall ever seeing anyone attack the speakers. I recall bonfires, I want to say there was a flag burning, which wasn’t unusual back in the day, with the Vietnam protest, and listened, and it went on for several hours. Eventually, I went back to the dorm. I’ll be honest, I was a little intimidated by it.

Again, as I said earlier, I didn’t have the bandwidth or the skills. I had not gotten into it. My whole approach with the Vietnam War has actually never ended because many of my generation are still facing the repercussions of Vietnam, mentally and physically. And, so I just went back and my parents were calling, they were frantic.

You know, “Where have you been? Are you okay?” Yes. And, you know, I told them. I went outside and I listened. To me, I felt it was important to hear the messages that were being said. Now I didn’t hear anything about the housing even though they coalesced together, all the messages and things, McCarthy from my understanding came here. I think you can research that in the article. They just, I used them as a resource to learn and then I went home.

When I got up and went back to the dorm, told my family I was okay, the barriers came down quite quickly. They were not there for more than a day, I don’t think. And I just remember Washington Avenue being open. The campus wasn’t, like you would see today in some of the protests going on, the campus wasn’t a mess.

You didn’t, there was no destruction on the mall. None. And the other thing you have to keep in mind is that they never canceled classes. Nope, we went, the campus was not closed, we went back to classes. Eventually, my understanding is, and according to this, the guard didn’t come in until 1:00 in the morning. And by that time, you know, we weren’t sleeping, but I was back in the dorm. And so, that was my initial experience with a protest.

SIEDOW: I’m so curious, when you got back into your dorm and you called and you told your family. 

SUE: They called me, yeah.

SIEDOW: When they called you and you told them, “I’m okay, I’m safe, I was just going to kind of get a better understanding of the war and of the activism movement happening at the U,” and then you found out that, or at least you had an awareness that the university was not going to cancel classes, things were going to operate functionally pretty much as normal.

What was going through your head at the time? Because you were coming from a suburb where you had little to no experience with protests and activism in general. I would love to know how you were able to flip that switch back to normalcy, or if you were able to do that. 

SUE: I was a little bit frightened going back to class the morning, in the mornings, but as the days went on you became more and more comfortable because, as I said, the destruction, there just wasn’t any. And the ear markings of the protests, the barriers and so forth, as quickly as they went up, they came down. And so, even though there were speakers and different things possibly going on, for one thing, I didn’t go over to the Armory, and I didn’t go over to Dinkytown.

My life was situated here at Comstock, at the Mall, and at the West Bank. And so, you know, it just, you acclimated back into the situation fairly quickly because you almost had to. You didn’t have a choice. I mean, you still had to get up. You still had to go to school. You still had to do your homework. You still had to go to work. 

And I had all these things that had to be done. And yet, on top of it, you also, you know, walked away wondering, you know, what happened to that young lady? And what did these protests accomplish, if anything? Did people listen? And in putting that all through your head and reflecting upon that, and so, it affected you in that way.

And it’s something that, when you started talking about it, and you brought back all the memories of what I went through and what people went through and, and to this day, well, I, you know, want to acknowledge the messages and so forth that were being given to us. I also still will never forget, there was a high school in Dinkytown, and how were those students?

You know, one of my biggest fears as someone who went into education and so forth, how were they? Were they terrorized? How was their mental health? How were they? People didn’t discuss that back in the day. And so that became an issue for me personally anyway. Dinkytown and the Armory were the hardest hit. 

SIEDOW: You mentioned earlier that you almost feel as though the Vietnam War never ended because of the lingering repercussions that are faced by people in your generation, some of which that you even know personally. 

I would like to hear a little bit about your first kind of your early memories of hearing about the Vietnam War and how that shaped your understanding of what was happening and how your personal relationships with your people who were sent to war shaped that.

SUE: So when I was in high school and I was telling Sam this, and this will wrap around to the point, I went to a gymnastics camp at a college in southern Minnesota for two summers and at that camp were two coaches from Kent State. And that’s why this will wrap around. Rudy and Janet. At the second camp, I was getting ready to graduate the next year.

They talked to me about considering coming to Kent State. And it was the first time I thought about going out of state to college. I went home quite excited. It was a smaller campus and talked to my parents about it. And then the tragedy hit. And the students lost their lives. And it’s not something I could comprehend at 16 and at 71. I still don’t comprehend it, and I hope I never do. I hope I never get that callous, but.

SIEDOW: For listeners, sorry, but for listeners who may not be aware, the Kent State shooting was a shooting of unarmed college students who were protesting the Vietnam War, who were part of the anti-Vietnam War movement in northeastern Ohio by the Ohio National Guard on May 4, 1970. 

SUE: Yep, and I graduated in 1971. And so, once again, my family had to step in and say, you know, “No, you’re not. Don’t even consider it. You’re going to the university” and that’s where, and I think, you know, it was also part of the fact that it was close to home and I, they always felt I would be safe here.

I come from a large family, then my next experience came. I’m the oldest of seven and my oldest brother got his draft notice. And so getting that draft card and knowing that he would have no choice, but have to go. And many members, including my father, served in the military. And so that, that became a moment that our whole family had to grapple with.

Even though, later on in life, I’ve had brothers who enlisted and went on to have careers in the army or long term services. So we, you know, all of a sudden it became very personal. Because I was, in fact, I was just talking to my brother about this the other day, telling him about this podcast. And he said, “Oh no, Susan, I got my draft notice.”

And of course, there were loved ones. I had a relative who came and he served, he lived, he came back, and his sister and I were very good friends, and I would go spend the night there. And throughout the night, you would hear these horrible sounds coming from their room. Well, that’s what we still live with today, are the nightmares. Those aren’t going to go away. You know, those men who served over there, and women, experience things we’ll never know about, and we’ll never experience in our lives. 

A friend whose brother came home on Christmas Eve, but he was dead. And so these all added up, and the final one I’ll share is, I had a swim coach in high school. Again, we were high school students. You were the end of the era coming into this. Whose fiancé was over, and I believe it was called Eagle Beach. And he would send letters to her. And before practice would start she would sit down and share those letters with us. It was a safe spot. We loved this coach and hear about what was going on.

And so Vietnam was, for me, more personal than an an activism role. It became very personal. You know, as we grew older, and of course, of course, we were exposed every single day to the TV coverage. You know, we saw the protests. I’m old enough to remember the fall of Hanoi and see that, so you have to remember my generation saw not only the protest, but we saw people we knew, or we knew that were there, and we saw what the fighting was like over there. 

And so you got this dual composition of what Vietnam was because my friends, my brother had no choice, they were going, unless of course you left the country, and many, many young people did. They went to Canada. You have to let and respect everyone make their choice. 

SIEDOW: So you had all of these personal ties to people who had fought and some of which didn’t return from the Vietnam War. With that in mind, I’m curious what you believe the place is in kind of the anti-war movements or just in general in social movements for students to be protesting at colleges. These students, so far removed, not far removed, but just far away physically from events protesting something at an educational institution. 

SUE: Well for me it was kind of a dichotomy because I believe in the freedom to speak and speak what your beliefs are. I question the validity of the Vietnam War. But I’m not gonna lie, I also was angry, very angry, with the way the veterans were treated when they came back. 

They came back with a lot of mental and physical issues. Agent Orange was real. And the crap that was going on over there was real. It was horrible. And they didn’t ask to go. And so when they came back, it was awful and it took years and years and years for that generation to be acknowledged for their service. 

So I agree that on college campuses, voices should be heard. But in all honesty, protest. Let your voices be known. Do I believe anybody listens to them? Well, nobody did back then. That war didn’t end, and people kept dying. But I hope that the people who did protest it felt a validity to making those voices heard.

At least somebody was saying something. And the young people were standing up and they were saying, “We’ve had enough.” You have to remember our chant was, “Hell no, we won’t go.” And they were standing up and saying, “Enough is enough.” And Nixon didn’t listen. 

And so I admire them for taking such a horrible issue, war is never a good issue, taking such a horrible issue, especially a war that was fought the way Vietnam was. This wasn’t a war. It was fought in rice paddies, and it was fought in foliage, and it was fought by the air. I have two acquaintances who were pilots over there and they said one made the comment years ago, “I survived because I couldn’t see what was below.” But I think that students and activists do need to exist.

I think they’re a very big part of what this country needs. And I think that voices need to be heard when they don’t agree with an issue. My only, and I didn’t disagree with the protesters at that time protesting Vietnam. The only thing that broke my heart, coming from a family where people did serve later on and my dad served, was, as I said earlier, the way the veterans were treated when they came back.

It was horrible. It was horrible. And so, but yes, I think voices need to be heard. But I think it needs to be, I wish there was a way that we could have taken those voices and brought them together with those soldiers who came back, male or female, and had them talk to one another. So that those who were protesting could have had an even greater sense of what they lived through over there. You know, and brought that voice to the campuses and brought that voice to America. 

SIEDOW: Just a bit ago you mentioned that you didn’t feel that the protests, at least at the university at the time, or that they didn’t shape anything to do with the U.S. government’s decision during the Vietnam War period and the horrors that were happening in Vietnam. 

I’m curious in the aftermath of these two major protests on the university grounds that you remember, if anything was changed by these protests? Like, what, what the feeling was on campus? 

SUE: The only thing that got changed by these protests, and you can look it up in this article, because history professor was quoted in here, was the policies that the University of Minnesota has put into place for that kind of activism, and how it should be handled, how it would be handled, and how that’s affected us forever.

That piece of the puzzle came. Do I think the voices got listened to? It breaks my heart, but if they had, I mean, I wish their voices had had a greater impact. Because maybe so many young people wouldn’t have lost their lives or come back the way in facing the challenges.

Those challenges didn’t go away in the 70s. This is 2024. And there are Vietnam vets out there who are still feeling the pains of that service. 

So, I wish the older generation or the political generation or whatever you want to call them would pay more attention because, you know, hell no we won’t go made so much sense, and they were standing up and people were dying. It didn’t get listened to and I feel bad.

SIEDOW: You mentioned, you just spoke about the hell no, we won’t go chant specifically. Were there any other particular signs or chants or speakers that you can remember from the protests that made an impression on you to the extent that you can still remember them to this day? 

SUE: Well, we had Eugene McCarthy here in Minnesota and he was an extremely liberal politician, and would stand up for speaking against the war. Sadly, I remember the people that I disliked, like Richard Nixon and the people who put us into the war. I remember when it was happening here on campus, there was a group that got a lot of bad publicity and were considered agitators, just like there are those groups in protest today. And that was the Weathermen. 

And I just remember thinking as I was standing out in front of Coffman Memorial Union, “Are they coming, are they going to be here, and if they do, what will happen?” But they didn’t, at least as far as I know. You have to remember my whole experience with the Vietnam War and the campus part was minuscule compared to how it’s encompassed the rest of our lives. But I remember the people who just wouldn’t listen and kept sending them over and.

SIEDOW: Did your lack of previous experience with protests and protesting coming from being raised in that suburb make the intensity of this kind of scene that you’re witnessing any more shocking? 

Like, how did you even process being so young and this being one of your first years in university, how did you process what you were witnessing?

SUE: Well, it was my first year and as I said earlier, I didn’t have the bandwidth of understanding nor the skill set. There was so much anxiety and so much fear. Once you, if you got through that, then you realize the need to wait, which is why I went back out. You need to listen to these voices.

You need to learn from this voice. You need to learn to understand what that message is and why that message was being shared with us. Obviously, it had an impact on me, because I’m 71 now, and it’s 52 years after it happened, and we’re still talking about it. But I hope that impact never goes away.

I really do because it brought, you know, so much thought, and so much for me to delve into the issues further, and to learn as much as I could, and to learn the empathy, and learn the anger, and learn all that this encompasses. Not just as a sister whose brother was going to be drafted, or a friend, but as an educator.

Going in to have to teach the Vietnam War to students is not an easy task. Because the lack of back in the day, the lack of curricula and things. The best way to teach it was to bring in a Vietnam vet. 

SIEDOW: Do you then think that your role as an educator later in life was any way shaped by your experiences on campus at the time as a student?

SUE: I think that, yes, it made me, one, learn that I needed to develop those skills. So I could become more aware of the activism, not just with the Vietnam War. There’s been many issues since. Remember, I’m old enough where I came, I went through the whole Martin Luther King and the rights. It was a building of skill sets, and yes, it did. It made me aware that I needed to look at issues harder.

Not just the war, but civil rights and, and many other issues have come up through my lifetime and what we faced. And I look at that almost as a gift. I mean, while it was scary and hard, it’s something you carry with you if you choose to. You know, you carry it with you, and now, as I have gotten older and older and gone through more and more issues, you learn to do your due diligence.

You learn to listen to all the voices. You learn to appreciate there are two sides or three sides or four sides to everything. Throughout my lifetime, 43 years, I’ve tracked in various venues of education or advocacy work. In my world, and as an educator, you must listen to all the voices. 

SIEDOW: You have had such a long and beautiful career, and I hope that you feel so accomplished with everything that you’ve done.

SUE: Well, it’s had its ups and downs, but mostly ups. And, you know, I have to thank all the people along the way who blessed me with those opportunities to get out and work with the communities and the families that I did. 

SIEDOW: Having had such a long and, like I said, such a beautiful career and advocacy work, I wonder if you feel that witnessing the kind of momentum of young voices during that period of protests during your time at the university had shaped your views on activism in any way?

SUE: Well, it did. If I had not probably seen this, I don’t think I would have gotten as involved as I did and took the pace of the, or the changes or the venues that I took in my career choices. And so, yeah, I mean it had to be in the back of my mind, which is why as I got older and became more comfortable with the different skills and things I had heard, young voices I had heard here. Well, I was one of those voices, but silent at the time. It was a blessing and it helped move me forward.

SIEDOW: I’m just wondering if there’s anything that you would want to, if you were able to tell either your younger self or students today about that time. 

SUE: The 70s and the 60s, I wish that I had had more tools and more skills because it was turbulent. The 60s and 70s were turbulent. You had the civil rights, you had Vietnam. There was a lot going on and I would tell my younger self, I would have gone back and told my parents if I could tell them one thing to do it all over again, probably have done more talking with us at home. 

SIEDOW: Do you have anything you want to say generally on the importance of young voices and young voices being heard specifically?

SUE: Young voices have a lot to say and my generation, and other generations who are younger than me, we all need to listen. And I’m really, really tired of Gen Z, Gen X, Millennials, Boomer 1, Boomer 2. We are all here on this planet. And if we don’t start listening to each other, we’re gonna be in big trouble.

And a lot of those voices come from youth. They bring so many ideas. Which is why I come here still. You know, I sit in the classes and I get to hear their voices, and your voice, Sam, and learn. And I hope that never stops. And I hope their voices never, ever stop, ever. So I’m going to say to all of you students out there, you keep on marching, you keep on rocking. Make sure you’re being heard.

Just do it in a way that people will want to listen to, because I will tell you one thing, and this is my generation, when it gets violent, or is perceived as, as not being respectful, 

SIEDOW: Disruptive maybe? 

SUE: Disruptive, thank you. That hearing will shut down, and that’s what we want to avoid. We want to keep everybody listening and the youth, you know, this is a wonderful campus. It’s got a lot of great organizations. All their voices need to be heard. And I keep hoping that they keep on keeping on. That’s another saying from our day. Keep on keeping on. And I’ll end it there. 

SIEDOW: Thank you so much, Sue. 

SUE: Thanks for having me. 

SIEDOW: It’s been absolutely wonderful to have you here and to be able to speak to you and to learn from you, and I’m excited to continue doing so in our class for the semester.

SUE: Sam, thank you so much and thank you both as well for having me.

SIEDOW: I think that this episode was written by Samantha Siedow and produced by Kaylie Sirovy. As always, we appreciate you listening in. If you have any comments or questions, feel free to email us at podcasting@mndaily.com. I’m Sam, and this has been In The Know.

Around 100 protesters gathered at the University of Minnesota at noon Monday, marking the one-year anniversary of the Oct. 7, 2023 Hamas attack on Israel where the Israeli government estimated 1,200 people were killed and more than 200 hostages were taken.

Protesters chanted outside the Coffman Union, “Up up with liberation, down down with occupation,” among others, before placing small colored flags on the lawn in the pattern of the Palestinian flag. Some protesters would later gather in front of the Minnesota Hillel house.

Since Oct. 7, Israel has killed an estimated more than 41,000 Palestinians in its war in Gaza, and left hundreds of thousands of Palestinians homeless, according to AP News.

Around 10 “safety marshalls” were present at the event — pro-Palestinian group members designated by neon vests appointed to ensure the safety of protesters at the event and serve as a point of contact for the University of Minnesota Police Department (UMPD) or University officials.

Students for Justice in Palestine’s (SJP) vice president, who requested anonymity for his safety and ability to travel to Palestine in the future, said he believes people are fed up with the response of the U.S. government and University administration to Israel’s actions.

“I suspect that people are going to be very angry,” he said. “They’re going to rightfully have rage towards these organizations that are being complicit in the genocide.”

The protest featured flags and posters of varying sizes, and a speaker system with a microphone, both violations of the University’s protest guidelines.

SJP’s vice president said SJP plans to continue intentionally not following the University’s protest guidelines because they believe the guidelines are fundamentally unconstitutional and limiting to free speech.

Student affairs staff were present at the event and issued two verbal warnings to protesters by 1:30 p.m., according to Fae Hodges, a third-year student member of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS).

Hodges said written on each flag planted in the lawn outside Coffman Union was the name of a person killed by Israel.

“We have 10,000 of (the flags) with the names of 10,000 martyrs that have been killed throughout this genocide in the past year,” Hodges said.

SDS anticipated official written warnings at some point during the planned six-hour protest, including verbal warnings of suspension, Hodges said.

Hodges said student protesters received two verbal warnings of suspension to students who did not leave the area during protests at University President Rebecca Cunningham’s inauguration on Oct. 18. No students were suspended.

According to SJP’s vice president, at UMN Divest Coalition’s most recent bi-weekly meeting with administration Sept. 27, which has been ongoing since the encampment in May, Provosts Harvey Charles and Raj Singh said the University will sponsor three Gazan students for the spring semester 2025. UMN Divest Coalition originally asked for 14 Gazan students to be sponsored, including full tuition and board.

Provost Rachel Croson allowed Israeli students planning to serve in the Israeli military to take a leave of absence and receive reimbursement for tuition in a Faculty Consultative Committee (FCC) meeting Oct. 19, 2023, which pro-Palestinian organizations were unaware of until recently, according to the SJP vice president.

“Students who want to return home to the affected region to serve in the military will be able to receive a tuition refund, and students who are struggling to focus on their academic work can reach out for flexibility in changing to S/N grading or dropping classes late,” according to the meeting minutes written by Amber Bathke.

University spokesperson Jake Ricker said in an email to the Minnesota Daily this comment was “a reiteration of existing University policies regarding leaves of absence.”

In a post published Oct. 6 on UMN Divest Coalition’s Instagram page, they said this was not a neutral action and represented the University choosing a side.

SJP’s vice president said while the University’s verbal agreement to sponsor three students from Gaza is positive, UMN Divest Coalition will continue to push for the University to sponsor more students, hoping to meet or exceed the number of students whose tuition was reimbursed to fight for the Israeli military.

SJP’s vice president said a portion of the UMN Divest Coalition, of which SJP is a member, are Jewish students and the Coalition aims to fight against Zionism, not the Jewish faith.

A group of around 20 student protesters gathered outside of Minnesota Hillel, a University of Minnesota Jewish cultural center, early Monday evening while the UMN Divest Coalition’s planned events were still ongoing.

Maddie Fontaine, a third-year student at the University who stopped to view the protest while passing by, said although she is unsure if Israel’s response to the attack by Hamas has been effective, she does not believe it is committing genocide.

Fontaine said she was initially interested in observing the protest because she has a friend who currently lives in Israel.

“I’ve known her my whole life, and she’s not like some horrible person, she wants peace for all of the countries in the Middle East,” Fontaine said. “I think that’s what most people do want who back (Israel) more.”

Fontaine said she does not believe protesters think all Israelis are evil, but protesters saying Oct. 7 was justified despite the harm caused to Israeli citizens rubbed her the wrong way.

“I think a lot of people here have only been fed one side, and they don’t actually fact-check what they’re seeing on social media,” Fontaine said.

At around 4:45 p.m., pro-Israel counter-protesters marched on the mall holding flags of Israel.

When Elsay Yoder, a second-year student at the University, came to Coffman Union this morning he was unaware that there were going to be student protesters demonstrating. 

Yoder said he believes student activism is key in initiating change.

“I think when we look at past history, we see young people, young adults, coming together and using their voices to make a difference, and I think that’s what’s going on here,” Yoder said. “I know some people might not believe that it’s gonna do much, but I think with time, persistence and energy, a lot can happen.”

Kianna Young, a third-year student at the University, said although she has not had time to regularly attend meetings hosted by pro-Palestinian student groups, she chose to participate in the protest on Monday to speak out for Palestinian citizens.

“I feel like I have the privilege to stand up and use my voice, and I want to make sure that I do use my privilege,” Young said.

Young said she participated in on-campus protests last spring, and believes it is important for students to use their voices to speak up for their beliefs.

“If there’s a bunch of us, they can’t silence all of us,” Young said. “It’s super important to do this collectively as a group, and also just exercise our rights as students.”

Young said, going forward, she hopes administration will meet student demands and stop leaving promises unfulfilled.

Pro-Palestinian protesters demonstrated in front of Minnesota Hillel, a University of Minnesota Jewish cultural center, following UMN Divest Coalition’s “One year of Genocide” walkout on Monday, Oct. 7, according to Minneapolis Police Department (MPD) officer Lieutenant Marcus Brenner.

Minnesota Hillel planned on hosting events on Monday to commemorate the Oct. 7 attack and mourn the loss of Israeli lives with events leading up to a memorial service and dinner, according to its website.

Minnesota Hillel released a statement on their Instagram page thanking law enforcement for their quick action and stating they were able to continue their ceremony “without significant interruption.” 

The last slide on the post reads “Hillel’s doors will remain open every day for all Jewish students. We’re here for you!”

Lieutenant Brenner said MPD was called to Hillel because of the Oct. 7 anniversary walkout.

“We were just here to make sure that the protests were not violent,” Brenner said.

The 10-20 pro-Palestinian protesters present identified themselves as former students when asked if they attended the University, according to Brenner.

A first-year student at the University, who asked to remain anonymous in fear of retaliation, had attended the morning events and was preparing to attend a vigil for Hillel members’ Israeli family members, friends and loved ones killed on Oct. 7 when she received text messages from a friend warning her not to come at around 6:20 p.m. Monday.

The friend told her there were protesters outside of Hillel waving flags, and the memorial event attendees were told to remain in the basement until it was safe to leave the building.

“I feel like a lot of kids are taking the brunt of a much longer global conflict, and they are being targeted because of their identity, whether or not they could change a global issue,” the student said.

This being her first semester on campus, the student said she feels this event will impact her feelings of safety at the University moving forward.

She said it is upsetting that a community that is supposed to be a safe space for students is getting targeted. She added especially when it feels like Jewish students are being unfairly targeted.

“I just feel like people need to take a step back and remember that yes, it’s important to do your part in standing up for things that you believe in, but it is not fair to hold random teenagers accountable for actions that they can’t control,” she said. “That goes to both sides.”

MPD monitored to make sure protesters did not cross onto Hillel’s property, according to Brenner. The protesters did not cross onto the property and dispersed without being asked.

Blind and low-vision students at the University of Minnesota have the same concerns as students without disabilities in navigating their academic and social lives in addition to the unique circumstance of not having full vision.

Enjie Hall, the director of the Disability Resource Center (DRC) at the University, said the DRC aims to ensure the University is as inclusive as possible, so students do not need to go out of their way to provide accommodations. 

According to the National Federation of the Blind, 30.3% of people with a visual disability have some college education and only 15.7% have a bachelor’s degree or higher. Hall said this may point to accessibility issues during students’ educational journey.

“Disability is not the condition, the health condition, the impairment,” Hall said. “It is that there are barriers in the environment that contribute to that person being disabled.”

Rennick Heatwole, a second-year student at the University with low vision, said his process to get accommodations through the University’s DRC was fairly straightforward, but he believes the current system could use some refinement to make students feel more comfortable accessing resources.

The DRC has two options for accessing accommodations, the Maroon and the Gold pathways, according to its website. 

The Maroon pathway is for students who have documentation of previous accommodations that they want to get at the University. The Gold pathway is for students who either have not had accommodations before or who want to explore options for other accommodations.

According to Heatwole, this two-path system can be more streamlined as it can make it more anxiety-inducing for students who are not sure which pathway they fit into.

“The Gold path is so daunting, because it’s like, you need to get in touch with this person, you have to get doctor’s notes, you need to be diagnosed with something,” Heatwole said. “Where the Maroon path is like, ‘Oh, you have to have these super specific documents’ that not everyone has from their high school, or they can’t get back in touch with their high school to get those.’” 

Heatwole said that because University buildings do not adhere to a level of uniformity, particularly when it comes to stairs, can make it difficult to navigate. 

According to Heatwole, it is obvious architects did not design the buildings with blind or low-vision students in mind.

“If you really want to experience what it’s like, get a blindfold. Put a blindfold on and try to walk around your usual building, like one that you think you know by heart. It is 1000 times harder than you can imagine,” Heatwole said. “For people who are actually blind, that is how they navigate. They can’t take the blindfold off. Then put them in a space like (the University) and say, ‘Oh yeah, find this building. You have 15 minutes.’ It’s crazy.”

Heatwole said there are often misconceptions about blindness. 

Having experienced both underestimation and overestimation of his abilities due to his vision, Heatwole said he would rather people wait for him to specify whether he needs accommodations before assuming his capabilities.

According to Heatwole, when people learn about his low vision, they sometimes view him through the lens of his disability rather than as an individual. He said this perception can make people with disabilities feel inclined to hide their condition when possible to avoid being treated differently.

Hall, who is also blind, said the also DRC focuses on working with campus partners, like the Coffman Union and the Recwell Center, so people with disabilities have equitable access to all campus activities and resources. 

The DRC provided new services for University community members who are blind or have low vision, and according to Hall, this is thanks to a student advocate.

Access to Information, Remote Access (AIRA) is a visual interpreting service available at no cost to anyone with a University email address, on or off campus, Hall said. AIRA connects users with agents trained to provide navigation assistance and visual interpretation, according to its website.

“Technology is a great equalizer for blind and low vision folks, and part of (ensuring access) is giving access to technology that is extremely costly,” Hall said.

Majed Alhuwayri, a third-year student at the University, spent his first summer in Minneapolis three years ago after flying in from Saudi Arabia for an intensive language course to learn English, a language he had little to no experience with previously.

Alhuwayri was not only adapting to a new language, culture and environment, but doing so while being partially blind.

Now, Alhuwayri is actively involved on campus, advocating for resources and fostering a sense of community that he wishes he had as an overwhelmed student.

Alhuwayri said he works with the University in various capacities as a student advocate, including bringing the AIRA service to the DRC’s attention and advocating for it to be available to all persons with a University email address, not just on campus grounds.

According to Alhuwayri, AIRA removed a barrier to access for blind students who live off campus, like himself.

Alhuwayri has been involved in the Disabled Student Cultural Center (DSCC) since his first year at the University, and this will be his first year serving on its board as the director of advocacy.

The University is home to the oldest disability cultural center in the U.S., founded in 1991, according to Diverse: Issues In Higher Education. 

Alhuwayri said the cultural center was exactly what he had been looking for his freshman year — a space for him to gather with students with a wide range of disabilities who had an understanding of his life experiences. 

“I was looking for a place where I could find some similarity with people and students that I can relate to and can tell me more about what resources are available, knowing that we all have a form of disability,” Alhuwayri said.

According to Alhuwayri, one advantage of having a designated space for students with disabilities is the opportunity to learn from each other’s experiences. Even when their disabilities differ, a solution that benefits one student may also prove helpful to others.

Alhuwayri said he has found a lot of support through the DSCC, but the intersectionality of his identity as a blind student and an Arab international student means that regardless of where he goes, he is a “minority within a minority.” 

To help combat the feeling of otherness that students like him may face, Alhuwayri is engaged in a new initiative this fall. 

Abilities Beyond Disability (ABD), a student group established under the international student office, describes itself as a space for international students with disabilities to gain support and resources, according to its webpage. 

As the first director of ABD, Alhuwayri said he plans to focus on increasing awareness in the student body of the lives of international students with disabilities. 

Alhuwayri said he is using his lived experience as an international student to contribute to the University. 

In Saudi Arabia, people have more flexibility to prioritize sports as a community-building event in their lives, according to Alhuwayri. Having missed that when he came to the U.S., he decided to bring that aspect of his home culture to the University.

Goalball, a sport played with all members wearing blindfolds, was invented in 1996 to help rehabilitate veterans who lost their sight in World War II, according to the International Paralympic Committee. Having played in a goalball league in Saudi Arabia, Alhuwayri said he wanted to establish a way for him to continue this sport at the University. 

Although Alhuwayri said he faced difficulties finding blind and low-vision students who wanted to be involved at first, now the University Goalball league he co-founded has 50 members.

The next goalball open gym date is on Saturday, Oct. 12 from 1 to 3 p.m.

Alhuwayri said he hopes students will consider joining or coming to events hosted by the Goalball team, ABD or DSCC, even if they are not disabled. 

“I encourage people who don’t identify with a disability to still go and learn or ask questions,” Alhuwayri said.

Alhuwayri said he believes it is important for students who are not disabled to engage with the disabled community to learn, step out of their comfort zone and grow.

Alhuwayri said he hopes people read his story and are empowered to speak up for change when it is possible.

“If you see something needs to be changed, be the one to change it and to speak up, because you’re not the only one that has that special request,” Alhuwayri said. “Sometimes we need a person to be the one who pushes for change to help everyone else.”

Editor’s Note: Hall’s statement about the DRC has been edited for clarity.

The Senior Citizen Education Program (SCEP) at the University of Minnesota allows Minnesota residents age 62 or older to audit courses for free or pay a $20 administrative fee per credit, according to One Stop’s website.

The program was implemented after a 1975 statute was passed — and since updated — requiring state-supported universities and colleges in Minnesota to allow senior citizens to enroll in courses based on available space after all tuition-paying students were accommodated. The statute mandates that seniors should be able to audit classes for free, and should only have to pay administrative fees for courses taken for credit.

Julie Selander, the Director of One Stop Student Services, said the administrative fee covers tuition but does not include costs for course materials. The fee increased this year from $10 to $20 per credit, which Selander said was in line with the Minnesota State Colleges and Universities system.

According to Selander, many students in the SCEP are pleasantly surprised to learn they can engage in campus life beyond the classroom by joining events and participating in student organizations.

“I think some of them are very, very excited to be part of the student experience and be on campus. I think they like that aspect of it,” Selander said.

The program has experienced significant growth with a 67% increase in student enrollment from 2013 to 2023, according to a data request to the University filed by the Minnesota Daily. 

When Bruce Center began auditing his first class through the SCEP in fall 2023 he ventured into a subject area outside his professional expertise, but the campus itself was hardly unfamiliar. 

Center graduated from the University with a doctorate in educational psychology in 1983 and taught several courses at the University “sometime in the previous millennium,” according to Center. He said the SCEP program has been a fun way to get involved in the University community again.

For his first course as a returning student, Center said he decided to take Introduction to Jewish History and Cultures with professor Natan Paradise. Being Jewish himself, Center said he was curious to learn more about Judaism to connect with his heritage.

Center said one of the reasons he enrolled in SCEP was his desire to interact with people face-to-face, especially in the years following the COVID-19 pandemic.

According to the University of Michigan National Poll on Healthy Aging, 41% of older adults reported feeling a lack of companionship in 2020, which decreased slightly to 37% in 2023. 

The poll also found that 46% of older adults had infrequent contact (once a week or less) with people outside their household in 2020, compared to 33% in 2023.

Center said he has enjoyed engaging in discussions with his younger peers and has appreciated hearing perspectives that often differ from his own.

“It was a chance to engage with a lot of people who have a different perspective on life and who are, frankly, a lot more enamored of new and different ideas,” Center said.

Lisa Thornquist, a student in the SCEP, spent her entire higher educational journey at the University. She earned a doctorate in geography from the University, and since retiring from her position as a manager in the Housing Area of Hennepin County working on public policy related to homelessness, has taken full advantage of the SCEP.

Thornquist has audited seven courses within a wide range of disciplines, from Russian history to political science. Thornquist said she enjoys the freedom to delve into many subjects, especially topics she is unfamiliar with.

“I always liked school and there’s a million things to learn about in this world that I hadn’t had a chance to yet,” Thornquist said. “Taking classes at the U gave me the opportunity to take classes about things I know nothing about.”

During discussions, Thornquist said she enjoyed sharing her perspective with professors and students as one of the few people in the room who lived through those times and events before her classmates were born.

“A professor will talk about something that happened in the 1960s, or 70s or 80s, and then we kind of both look at each other and it’s like ‘okay, we lived through that,’ and looking around the class, certainly for (other students), that’s ancient history,” Thornquist said.

The Alzheimer’s Association looked at a 2015 study published in JAMA Neurology that suggests formal education, or education at the high school level or above, may serve as a protective factor against Alzheimer’s and provide individuals with the disease more time with better cognitive function.

John Robert Warren, a sociology professor at the University leading an upcoming study on Alzheimer’s disease and related dementias, said there is strong evidence that increased education may protect the brain against cognitive decline later in life.

Part of Warren’s research is on biological factors that can indicate someone is predisposed to developing Alzheimer’s or heavy cognitive decline later in life, specifically markers in the blood.

Although there is evidence that these blood markers correlate with cognitive problems, most people who have them do not experience any cognitive decline, according to Warren. It suggests there are other factors that go into determining whether someone will experience cognitive decline and to what extent with education potentially being one of them.

“Why are some people able to avoid having problems, even though they have the same biology as other people who do have problems?” Warren asked. “That seems to be shaped by education.”

Warren said while there is currently no evidence to show that engaging in educational activities later in life provides the same protection against Alzheimer’s for seniors, it remains a possibility. 

Regardless, Warren said learning later in life is still beneficial.

“There’s amazing evidence about the impact of things like loneliness on how the brain works,” Warren said. “Even if the knowledge they gain doesn’t really shape their brains, maybe it’s the social environment that would.”

Even if there are benefits to learning later in life, Warren said those who choose to participate in programs like the SCEP at the University might be the least likely to see any preventative effect against Alzheimer’s.

Warren said people who have a background of being in cognitively stimulating environments are at decreased risk of cognitive decline to begin with, but having developed a habit of lifetime learning, they may be more likely to decide to go back to school purely for the sake of learning than those who would reap greater benefits.

Mary Learmont, a University alumnus who recently retired from her job as a principal reliability engineer at Medtronic, is auditing her second course at the University through the SCEP and said she plans on continuing in the program for as long as possible.

“There’s just such a world of information out there. I feel like what I know is a tiny drop in a bucket, and this is just so enlightening,” Learmont said.

According to Learmont, one advantage of auditing courses instead of taking them for credit is the flexibility to choose your level of involvement. She said she appreciates being able to decide which assignments to complete, and while her work is not graded, she still receives feedback from her professors.

Learmont said she is very careful to make sure degree-seeking students receive the professor’s primary focus and lead the majority of classroom discussions.

“I want to make sure that I never take a student’s place. I don’t want to ever do anything to detract from the real students getting whatever attention they need,” Learmont said.

Lifelong learning benefits the world, Learmont said.

“In terms of being a better citizen of the world, the more that you keep learning, you become more open-minded,” Learmont said. “I think (education) makes you a better human being, better able to make a positive contribution in the world.”

Editor’s Note: This article has been updated for greater context.

University of Minnesota President Rebecca Cunningham announced her recommended biennial budget request for the fiscal year 2026-27 on Thursday at the Board of Regents meeting.

Cunningham’s proposal asks for an overall fund increase of $235 million from the Minnesota state legislature, a 32% increase from the last fiscal year.

This year, Minnesota state leaders allocated 6.4% of available funds to higher education. Roughly 2% will go to the University of Minnesota.

Fiscal year 2026-27 biennial budget proposal breakdown

$120 million will be allocated to furthering the University’s core mission by increasing employee’s minimum wage and covering increased costs of general maintenance for University buildings. 

$30 million will be spent on “enhancing student experience” by prioritizing services for students, including classroom repairs, increased mental health services, new technology, and career and academic advising. 

$40 million will increase funding to the Saint Paul and greater Minnesota University campuses to promote job growth and research. 

$45 million will help to reduce healthcare workforce shortages, increase reach to underserved populations and continue research in prevention, treatment and care. 

The FY26 budget will be brought before the Board for review and action during their June 2025 meeting, and the FY27 budget will be reviewed the following year in June 2026.

Public Input

The Board discussed potential ways to bridge the gap between the regents, faculty and the student body at their meeting on Friday. 

Executive Director of the Board of Regents and Corporate Secretary of the University Brian Steeves announced the intent to implement monthly “listening activities” for the Board to connect face-to-face with students, staff, faculty and members of the broader University community.

These listening activities, set to launch sometime during the 2024-25 academic year, will feature structured campus visits from regents to participate in panel discussions, pop-up tables and receptions.

Board Chair Janie Mayeron said regents will attend the listening activities on a rotating basis and will not be expected to attend every event.

Steeves said this initiative aims to “meet people where they are,” by making conversations with regents more accessible for those who cannot attend the Board meetings.

This initiative follows the Board’s launch of a virtual forum in December 2023, which gave the public a way to reach the regents with their concerns or inquiries.

Steeves said that although the regents were overall happy with the virtual forum’s success thus far, they want to prioritize hearing student voices.

“The reality is that the virtual forum from what I remember… we didn’t have a whole lot of students that were actually using that, it was mainly the outside public,” Regent Mary Turner said. “We need to have a way to meet the students.”

Bylaw change

Regents discussed the potential of changing a bylaw that requires requests to appear in front of the Board to be made to the Board secretary in advance and ruled on by the Board Chair.

Mayeron presented the option of eliminating the ability for the public to appear in front of the Board in favor of focusing on gaining public input through other methods she described as more meaningful, such as the virtual forum and the listening activities.

Using the example of the pro-Palestinian groups being allowed to appear at a board meeting while the University’s male gymnastics team was denied, Mayeron said the criteria she has been using to determine which groups are given permission to speak in front of the Board comes down to whether she thinks having them there would have a meaningful impact on the Board’s decisions.

“At the end of the day, letting them come here just so they have the opportunity to be heard when we could not offer an alternative seemed unfair to them and didn’t seem like a good use of our time” Mayeron said about the gymnastics team.

Board members Doug Huebsch, Ruth Johnson, Penny Wheeler and Mary Turner supported officially adding language that would require the Board Chair to consult with one or more regents before ruling on the requests.

No consensus on an action was reached and the Board plans to revisit options during their next meeting Oct. 10-11.

Safety

University Police Department (UMPD) Chief Matt Clark announced that UMPD will launch a new interactive campus crime map this fall during his yearly safety update presentation for the University Twin Cities campus.

This map will be interactive and updated as crime happens, allowing users to visualize daily crime information in context, Clark said. 

Clark said in the last year overall crime rates are down, with the exceptions of aggravated assaults, which he attributed to two reports made at the University Medical Center in which hospital staff were assaulted, and another three assaults on uniformed UMPD officers. 

Clark announced several changes for the 2024-25 academic year, including the recent installation of turnstiles in 17th Avenue and Middlebrook residence halls following the positive response to those in Pioneer Hall. 

Additionally, 74 University buildings will now operate on University standard hours, opening at 7 a.m. and closing at 4 p.m. with restricted access via U card. Clark added there has been an increase in high-visibility blue phones and UMPD plans to install interior locks on classroom doors to enhance security.

Coming and Going

• Regents and Cunningham welcomed Charles Nies, the newly instated 10th chancellor of the Duluth campus to the University of Minnesota system.

• Kathy Schmidlkofer, the current President and CEO of the University of Minnesota Foundation announced her official intent to retire in the 2024-25 academic year. A nationwide search for the new President and CEO will be launched sometime in the next few months.

Correction: A previous version of this article misstated the biennial budget request as the budget plan.