Medcalf: Walz’s emergence a chance to tell a new story about Minnesota

Years ago, I hopped into a pickup truck — I’d never been in a pickup truck before — with two friends on a trip to Walmart in Mankato shortly after I’d started my freshman year at Minnesota State Mankato. I wanted a DVD, “Along Came a Spider,” but I needed cash, so I asked an employee to point me toward the nearest time machine.

I’d only been in Minnesota for a few weeks, and I had not realized that some of the lingo from my hometown might not make sense here. In Milwaukee, we called the ATMs “time machines” because they were actually made by a company named “TYME.”

The young staffer working at Walmart that night stared at me for a moment before he lowered his head, shrugged and said, ‘No … No, we don’t have any time machines.’” That may have been his last shift.

More than 20 summers later, I no longer call them time machines. But I still haven’t had a hot dish and the only Jucy Lucy I ever tried did not convince me that I should order another one. I’ve enjoyed a lot of great food on a stick at the State Fair, where I’ll gladly wait in a line for an hour or longer to get a bucket of Sweet Martha’s cookies this weekend. And — at age 41 — I’m known in my household for a weekly rant about disruptive construction projects in the Twin Cities. I won’t call myself a full-fledged Minnesotan, but this is my home.

This state we all call home will undergo another examination in the months ahead as Gov. Tim Walz continues his tour of America as the Democratic Party’s vice presidential nominee. Walz resembles the image of what America believes represents Minnesota: a lot of folksy white people.

That notion, which denies the presence of this state’s immaculate Black and brown movers and shakers, is only partly true. But with a national spotlight on Minnesota yet again, I hope the full story of the state and the experiences of its diverse communities receive the attention they deserve.

Four years ago, the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder showcased the significant hurdles faced by marginalized communities in Minnesota, a state with a problematic history it had to confront before it could begin to move forward. It’s a place that often secures multiple spots on those “Best Places to Live” lists, but in that moment, the country learned that Minnesota ain’t always the best place to live for everybody.

Yet, the politicized national narrative about Minnesota — embraced by opportunists who’d hoped to falsely cast Minneapolis in particular as a dangerous cesspool that people should avoid — also stripped those diverse communities of their chance to tell the world that we should be acknowledged and heard, too.