Today is January 10th, a quiet Saturday morning. I’m sitting in my living room doing my daily writing session before heading out for a 12 hour shift I picked up. As I get ready, I find myself grabbing my U.S. passport before leaving, just in case I get stopped by ICE. It’s a small habit, but it says a lot about the moment we’re living in. 2026 began just over a week ago, but it already feels heavy, like too much has happened too quickly. I find myself in a wintering season, pulling inward, while Minnesota, the state I have called home for the past 20 years, particularly Minneapolis, has been pushed outward into attention and tension.
Minnesota, especially Minneapolis, has become a spotlight of intensity and unrest. Having your state under this kind of attention while you’re in a season of wintering and solitude is truly testing. How am I supposed to winter in quiet, rest, and retreat when my state is going through so much that it feels like it’s affecting everyone and everything around me? How am I supposed to seek solitude when there are protests, raids, sirens, and people calling for community and action? Can I do both, continue my wintering while still being there for my community? Or is choosing myself more important right now, and does that make me selfish?
Minnesota has really been through it over the last few years, much like I have. Maybe the whole world has been going through it. But for Minnesota, we went through the George Floyd tragedy and its long aftermath beginning in 2020, the assassination of lawmakers and the hunt for their killer, and the Annunciation Catholic Church shooting. Now, at the beginning of 2026, we are seeing the vilifying of the entire Somali community in Minnesota, which has been used to justify one of the largest deployments of ICE in the state. That escalation led to the unjust killing of Renee Good. All of this has sparked protests and renewed outrage, making everything feel even heavier.
As a Somali in Minnesota, the spotlight feels heavier. When attention turns to this state, it often turns toward my community as well, and not in a good way. Somalis are pulled into narratives that aren’t ours and used for other people’s agendas. Lately, it feels like Somalis in Minnesota have been framed as a problem, as if we are something to fear or control, even though we make up only a small fraction of the country.
The constant vilification on social media and in the news shows up in real ways. ICE raids targeting Somali homes, businesses, and even places of worship. This has led to a loud and constant profiling based on how we dress, how we look, and how we speak. At times, it feels like we are being pushed back into the Jim Crow era instead of living in the 21st century.
For me personally, all of this reminds me of 2020 and the aftermath of George Floyd. Everything feels the same, like time has stopped for both me and my state. The difference now is that I am in a season of wintering and solitude while my state feels under attack from the federal government. So here I am, doing my daily writing while sirens, protests, and raids continue outside. Continuing with my wintering, choosing to look inward while the outside keeps demanding a reaction.
I don’t know what 2026 holds, or even what next week will look like for Minnesota or for me. All I know is that I have today, inshallah. And today, I’m using the tools of my wintering to stay grounded.