Dear Friends and Neighbors,
This isn’t the message I hoped to be sending. After deep reflection, I’ve made the difficult decision to end my campaign for Mayor of Minneapolis.
I entered this race because I love this city—and I believe deeply in what it can become. A place where all neighborhoods are safer and more connected. Where the economy thrives, businesses boom, housing is affordable, and families can stay and grow. Where we invest in the basics that people count on. Where you have leaders working together so you can get the most out of your city government. I see a Minneapolis that is multigenerational, family-friendly and a city where residents feel they always come first.
That vision still lives in me. It always will.
But I’ve come to a hard truth: under the current political climate, I can’t be my authentic self and be a candidate in this race the way it demands. I tried to balance it all—be a mom, build a great team, serve as a Council Member, raise a million dollars, show up for my kids, show up for every event, all while being a person driven by honesty and integrity.
And as a woman, that balance is even harder. We carry the weight of families, jobs, others’ expectations—and then we’re told to do more. Throughout this campaign, I was told I wasn’t good enough. Not strong enough. I was told it was not my time or that I was not ready. If it wasn’t said outright, it was implied in a thousand different ways. Women are expected to change—shape ourselves to fit whatever version makes others more comfortable. These are the unspoken burdens women face every day—in politics and far beyond it. And yet we keep going. We keep showing up.
The toxicity in our city’s politics is real. It punishes integrity, vilifies collaboration, and prioritizes power over people. It’s a system where doing what’s right isn’t just difficult, it’s discouraged at every turn. The only antidote is change. Real, systemic, courageous change. I believed we could be that change—that our campaign could be the inoculation. But instead of spending time with residents and talking about how to fix the real problems facing our neighborhoods, I found myself spending hours and hours fundraising just to stay afloat, working tirelessly to reject lies spread by anonymous donors and political action committees.
That’s not the city I want to lead—or the example I want to set for my children.
I still believe this election is an opportunity for Minneapolis to move in a new direction—and I encourage you to learn about the candidates in this race. Look for the leaders that are bringing people together. Listen to who’s offering real, workable solutions and is committed to doing the hard, often unglamorous work of making city government actually work.
Then most importantly: volunteer, donate, and vote.
To those who donated to the campaign:
Your generosity was more than financial support—it was a vote of confidence in the kind of leadership our city deserves. You believed that we could bring honesty, empathy, and effectiveness back to City Hall. Every dollar you gave helped us build something meaningful, and I’m deeply grateful.
To those who volunteered for the campaign:
You gave your time, your energy, and your belief in something bigger than any one person. You knocked doors, made calls, sent texts, and lifted us up when things got tough. You reminded me every day that change starts with people who care enough to show up. Thank you for being the heartbeat of this campaign.
To those who hosted events for the campaign:
You opened your homes, your businesses, your networks—and created space for meaningful conversations and connection. You helped bring our vision to life and introduced it to new communities with warmth and grace. I’m so thankful for your hospitality and partnership.
And to the residents of Ward 11:
It remains the greatest honor to represent you on the City Council. I have deep respect for your values, your voices, and your vision for our neighborhoods—and I will continue fighting for you every single day during my final term and beyond.
So while I’m ending this campaign, I’m not walking away. I am simply shifting my course in how I authentically show up for the people of this city. I’m still a Minneapolis Public School parent. I’m still a coach. A neighbor, community leader, and advocate. I will always be part of this city’s fabric. I will keep showing up, because that’s what this moment—and this city—deserve: people who show up.
People like to cast political campaigns in terms of winners and losers. That’s not what this was. This campaign was a declaration: that a better Minneapolis is possible. We built something real. We had momentum. And more than that, we were changing the conversation. That we don’t have to accept dysfunction and division as destiny. That honesty, compassion, collaboration, and hard work can still win the day.
I’ll be cheering you on, every step of the way.
With Gratitude,