On Sunday, May 31, the JFK Library Foundation presented the people of the Twin Cities with the Profile in Courage Award.
Typically given to an elected official, this prestigious honor acknowledged how our community defended immigrant neighbors and constitutional rights during Operation Metro Surge.
The efforts put forth in the Twin Cities were, in a word, astounding.
And yet.
If you’d been at the Lyndale Avenue construction meeting at the Uptown VFW the following evening, you might be surprised to learn you’re in Minneapolis — that same place heralded for its kindness toward neighbors.
…so long as you think exactly like me.
Here’s the situation: Hennepin County needs to update the infrastructure under one of the city’s main thoroughfares, Lyndale Avenue. This is not up for debate. The stuff underground hasn’t been fully updated since, I dunno, the Coolidge era.
The proposed new design allows for a single lane of north-south traffic with a raised concrete median in between, designated bus lanes, 25% less street parking, a wide north-south bike path on the east side of the street, plus a sidewalk on both sides. Construction is slated to begin in 2028, will span about a mile and is supposed to last three years.
I’ve lived on or near Lyndale Avenue since 2008. While some improvements have made it less dangerous for pedestrians (the city installed flashing crosswalks at two uncontrolled intersections, and it made a huge difference!), crossing the street in some areas is scary as hell. I shepherd my kids across twice a day when we walk to school, my head on a swivel like Regan in “The Exorcist,” scanning for cars, buses, bikers and sometimes pedestrians in the midst of a mental health crisis.
The current design is inadequate. The proposed redesign is polarizing.
The VFW meeting, organized primarily by business owners, highlighted reasons. First, the duration. THREE YEARS is a long time to navigate a construction project that demolishes everything, right up to the front door of your shop. One summer is an inconvenience. Three summers leads to people lose enthusiasm for supporting small business, changing their habits and slowly giving up on places where they were once regulars.
Another aspect stoking debate: the plan’s ambition. It wedges a lot into a fairly narrow space. Many people think the bike lane could be moved two blocks west to Bryant Avenue, where a lot of current bike infrastructure (and bikers!) already exists. Alternatively, many business owners have stated they could live with a shared bike-and-pedestrian path (a part of a previous plan).
The night at the VFW, the bike coalition was not having it.
The owner of Knox Jewelers, highlighting the length of the project, the change to the flow of car traffic and the possibility of losing street parking, said he worried his family’s business of 42 years would close.
Some bike advocates cheered.
Saed Wadi of World Street Kitchen & Milkjam Creamery raised concerns that emergency vehicles might struggle to reach people who’ve called 911. (A police officer sitting next to me said this is a valid concern.) He worried that planners hadn’t fully thought through snow removal (it seems they haven’t). He said those parked on the street might not be able to safely open a car door without getting hit by an oncoming bus on the left or a bike on the right (not great for cyclists, either!).
The next morning, he woke up to a barrage of one-star reviews.
The discourse even infiltrated my digital life. I exited my neighborhood Signal group, the one I relied on for information during Metro Surge, due to talk of boycotting small businesses that had the audacity to question a construction project that will affect their livelihood.
And just generally — when older or disabled residents (or people with little kids like me!) have mentioned they sometimes rely on parking due to their specific needs, they’re often met with this kind and empathetic suggestion: Well, maybe you should move.
Does any of this sound very neighborly to you?
This debate isn’t really about a bike lane.
What I heard from business owners is not that they hate bikes or would really love to make the street super dangerous, but a plea for help. I heard sadness, frustration and fear of losing everything. These folks have weathered six years of struggle, now knowing the next six will be just as hard. Currently, there is no plan from the city, county or state to support them financially.
It’s worth noting we’ve all seen the long-term effects of essentially the exact same project a dozen blocks west on Hennepin Avenue — which has lost the majority of its small businesses over the past six years, in large part due to the construction and its aftermath. A three-year construction plan that hasn’t even bothered to consider how it will affect local commerce, simply put, sucks.
It’s also about some activists believing that the only plausible future is a car-free one, and any step toward that is a win, no matter who it hurts or how you get there. If it were simply about a safe and pleasant way to bike, they’d be advocating for better infrastructure on Bryant Avenue, where you’re riding down a quiet, leafy street and not choking on exhaust from city buses and a pileup of cars, stopping at traffic lights at every other intersection.
The bike coalition’s position seems to be to make it hard to drive, and maybe, just maybe, people will stop driving entirely. I understand the thought, and in a perfect world, sure. It is also a very narrow, exclusive and ableist position.
The thing is, a car-free future depends on local business. I live in this neighborhood specifically because I can walk to the grocery store, school, dentist, hardware store, you name it, and when I can, I do! It’s one of the things I value most in where I live. Every time a business or service I need closes, I’m either getting in my car or lining the already-stuffed pockets of Jeff Bezos and his stupid face.
I personally have lost steam for chiming in on the street design itself. I’m just a mom with a journalism degree, WTF do I know? So do whatever you’re gonna do, Hennepin County, and do it as quickly as possible.
The thing I cannot get over is the total lack of empathy for how this plan will affect members of our community. The urge to dismiss or even celebrate when another person expresses pain disgusts me, especially because we know that when we work together, we can accomplish amazing things. Why kick business owners when they’re down when we could lift them up? We got Donald Trump to regret sending 3,000 ICE agents to this city. Together, we can do anything.
But the second folks in this town disagree, ope! People deserve to lose their jobs, their businesses, their everything.
Is a small business only worth championing if their goods and services are of value to you, personally?
Are Palestinians only worth fighting for while getting horrifically slaughtered in Gaza, but not in trying to keep their restaurant running?
Do Black Lives Matter, but only sometimes, in certain situations, and not during business hours?
We’ll fight to the death to keep ICE away from immigrants. But we’ll also tell them your family’s income doesn’t matter if you dare speak up against something I believe in.
Are only some neighbors worthy of neighboring?
Molly Mogren Katt writes for the Hill & Lake Press and also publishes the “Hey Eleanor!” column on Substack. She lives in the Wedge.
