The Shift We Ain’t Talking About

Let’s get into it.

Minnesota politics been moving quiet, but heavy. You can feel it in the air — that shift, that tension, that “we not buying what y’all selling anymore” kind of energy. See, this week former Governor Tim Pawlenty showed up at the Star Tribune’s first-ever North Star Summit — standing shoulder to shoulder with two of the GOP’s so-called “rising stars,” talking about the future of the Republican Party. But I gotta ask… whose future are they really building? Because when I look around, I don’t see nobody on that stage talking about our communities — Black men, working families, folks getting priced out their own blocks.

The conversation they having in them fancy conference halls ain’t matching the conversations we having in barbershops, on the block, or in church basements. The establishment still playing the same old political chess — trading words like “unity” and “growth” while they ignore the people that actually make this state move.

And real talk? The conservative movement won’t survive if it don’t start respecting the urban voice.

But let’s shift gears for a minute, ‘cause it ain’t just about politics — it’s about policy and who gets crushed by it.

Across Minnesota, school board members — not radicals, not protestors, but elected officials — done had enough. They built a website and drafted a letter straight to state leaders, saying what a lot of folks been whispering: the system’s broke. The policies coming from the top ain’t working for our kids, our teachers, or our communities.

Now, the same people that preach “local control” and “parental rights” wanna act brand new when local boards finally stand up and speak out. Ain’t that something?

See, this is what happens when leadership forgets that government ain’t God — it’s supposed to serve.

And while all this political noise going on, the streets still bleeding.

Just before midnight, another deadly shooting in Minneapolis — another life gone, another family broken, and police still searching for the suspect.

But here’s what they don’t wanna talk about: these tragedies ain’t random. They connected. They a reflection of neglect, of leadership that only shows up for press conferences and photo ops.

Everybody wanna argue left vs right, but nobody wanna talk about how both sides failed to protect the very people they claim to represent. You can’t talk about “equity” when the block still got bullet shells and empty job sites. You can’t talk about “law and order” when the system only enforces it based on ZIP codes.

See, “Disenfranchised Voter” ain’t just a title — it’s a reality.

It’s the feeling of watching elections come and go, and realizing that no matter who’s in office, the hood still look the same. The schools still struggling. The fathers still locked out of opportunity. And the people still begging for change from leaders that don’t even know their names.

That’s why we here. Because being conservative in the urban community ain’t about fitting in with the establishment. It’s about accountability, discipline, faith, and the courage to call out hypocrisy on both sides.

We ain’t here to be liked. We here to be heard.

So when Pawlenty and them talk about the “future of the Republican Party,” I’m listening — but I’m also watching.

‘Cause the real movement ain’t gonna be built in conference rooms. It’s gonna be built by brothers and sisters who understand what it means to grind, to sacrifice, to stand on principle even when the room get cold.

It’s the single mother voting with a baby on her hip, the father trying to build a business instead of begging the government. It’s the man who’s been through the system and came out saying, “I want better for my people.”

That’s the conservative I know.

That’s the voter they keep forgetting about.

So as we unpack these stories — from Pawlenty’s summit talk to school board pushback to the streets of Minneapolis — we gon’ ask the real questions.

Who’s building the future, and who’s just talking about it?

Who’s fighting for real freedom, and who’s selling it for campaign donations?

‘Cause at the end of the day, the Disenfranchised Voter ain’t invisible — we just done being ignored.

And trust me, we got so much more to talk about.