Community Voices: Letters from Minnesota Residents to Manitoba

COMMUNITY VOICES

Letters from Minnesota Residents Regarding the Manitoba Proposal

Collected and submitted as part of Adoption File 2026-MNITOBA-001

Note: The following letters represent a range of perspectives from Minnesota residents. Names have been changed to protect privacy. These voices are shared to help Manitoba understand who they would be welcoming.

Letter 1: From a Mother in Minneapolis

Dear Manitoba,

My name is María. I have lived in Minnesota for 22 years. I came here with nothing and built a life—a business, a family, a community. My children were born here. They are American.

Last month, my husband was detained at work. He was taken in front of his coworkers. We don't know when we will see him again. He has been here for 18 years. He coached Little League. He paid taxes. None of that mattered.

My children are afraid to go to school because they think I won't be home when they return. My daughter cries every night. My son doesn't speak anymore.

I don't know if your offer is real. I don't know if it could actually happen. But I want you to know: just knowing that someone out there cares, that someone is paying attention, that someone thinks we matter—it helps. Even if nothing changes, it helps to know we are seen.

Thank you for seeing us.

— María, Minneapolis

Letter 2: From a Farmer in Rural Minnesota

To Whom It May Concern,

I'm a third-generation farmer. My family has worked this land since 1912. I am as American as it gets—my great-grandfather fought in World War I, my grandfather in World War II, my father in Vietnam, and I served in Iraq.

I am not going anywhere. This is my home, my country, and I will be buried here like my father and his father before him.

But I want you to know that what's happening here isn't what America is supposed to be. The families being torn apart—many of them work on farms like mine. They're my neighbours. Their kids go to school with my grandkids. They're not criminals. They're people trying to live.

I don't want to join Canada. But I'm grateful you're offering a hand to those who need it. That's what neighbours do.

Take care of them if they come to you.

— Harold, Rural Minnesota

Letter 3: From a College Student in St. Paul

Hi Manitoba!

I'm a junior at the U of M. I'm studying public policy because I want to make things better. That feels kind of naive right now, honestly.

A lot of my friends are scared. Like, actually scared—not internet-scared, but can't-sleep, afraid-to-leave-the-house scared. One of my roommate's cousins was taken last week. Another friend's mom won't go to her job at the hospital anymore because she's afraid.

I don't know what to think about your proposal. Part of me is like, "that's wild, that's never going to happen." But another part of me is like, "what if it could?"

I grew up thinking America was a certain kind of place. Realizing it might not be that place is hard. Maybe you understand that—Canada has its own stuff to deal with too, right?

Anyway, thanks for caring. It's nice to know someone does.

— Jordan, St. Paul

Letter 4: From a Doctor in Rochester

Dear Manitoba Health Officials,

I am a physician at a major medical centre in Minnesota. I am writing because I have seen the health impacts of what is happening firsthand.

People are not coming in for care because they are afraid. Pregnant women are missing prenatal appointments. Diabetics are rationing insulin because they're afraid to go to pharmacies. Children are not getting vaccinations.

I have treated patients in acute distress from fear and trauma—not from illness, but from terror about what might happen to their families. I have seen what chronic fear does to bodies and minds.

Your healthcare system is not perfect. No system is. But the fundamental promise—that everyone can access care without fear—is something we do not have right now.

If this adoption proceeds, please ensure healthcare access from day one. People are suffering.

— Dr. K., Rochester

Letter 5: From a Family in Duluth

To the People of Manitoba,

We've driven up to Winnipeg before for shopping and hockey games. You're not that different from us, really—same cold, same friendliness, same love of hockey and lakes.

Our town is small, and word travels fast. Everyone knows someone who's been affected. The guy who runs the taco truck—gone. The family that worked at the resort—gone. The kids who were on our son's soccer team are moving because their parents are afraid.

We're Americans, and we love our country. But the country we love is one that welcomes people. That's not what's happening now.

If this proposal is real, we'd think about it. We'd really think about it. Not because we want to leave, but because maybe the Minnesota we love could keep existing in a different form, in a different country.

Does that make sense? We don't know. Everything is confusing right now.

— The Olsen Family, Duluth

Letter 6: From Someone Afraid to Give Any Name

I can't tell you my name or where I live. I'm sorry. I'm afraid.

I have been here for 15 years. I work. I pay taxes (yes, even without papers—there are ways). I have never committed a crime except existing in a way that is not allowed.

I don't sleep anymore. Every sound outside my door could be the end of my life here. I have packed a bag by the door in case I have to run. I have told my children what to do if I don't come home.

My children are Americans. They were born here. If I am taken, they will be alone.

Your offer sounds like a dream. A place where I could just be a person? Where I could go to work without fear? Where my children wouldn't have to plan for my disappearance?

I don't know if it's real. But thank you for offering it. Thank you for thinking of people like me.

We exist. We are here. We are human beings.

Please don't forget us.

— Someone in Minnesota

These letters have been compiled to ensure that Manitoba understands the human reality behind this proposal. Any decision about adoption must center the voices and needs of those most affected.

Filed with the Provincial Court as Exhibit A, Human Voices.