I’m In Minnesota. It Needs Michele Tafoya.

The wheels kissed the runway in Minnesota, and the rain arrived to greet us. My row mate lifted the window shade, and drops detonated against the plexiglass like tiny gray fireworks. I watched them and hoped the weather wouldn’t keep voters from their front doors.

I didn’t know what to expect from Minneapolis. I knew the postcard: 10,000 lakes, a skyline that sparkles, and neighbors as warm as they are improbably tall. But over the past eight years, L’Étoile du Nord has lost some of its shine. Crime plagues the towns like never before. Gangs crash homecomings and pickup basketball games. Taxes and regulation smother the startup spirit. And Minnesotans have become a national punchline because their hard-earned dollars are vanishing into empty, dormant daycares, run by people who take what their clan wants instead of simply what their clan needs, and it ends up in Mogadishu.

Minnesotans feel cheated, used, and unheard, and the cruel irony is that they haven’t changed at all. They still work the Iron Range mines. They still farm the southern landscape of “rocks and cows,” as Tim Walz once called it. They still raise their families in the Red River Valley. The people never changed. But something around them did.

That change began with a poisonous pair, notoriously known as the Walz-Flanagan administration. Eight years ago, Tim and Peggy, the governor and lieutenant governor, launched a campaign of corruption, crime, and careless fraud that produced what some Minnesotans now call “the worst eight years in Minnesota history.”

Walz is finished, felled by an embarrassingly dismal vice presidential run, a trail of failed hunting clips, fraud scandals, and pathetic leadership decisions. But his destructive dork-ball sidekick, Peggy Flanagan, is running for office again. Her opponent is former Sunday Night Football broadcaster Michele Tafoya, and they’re battling for a U.S. Senate seat.

Let’s just say a vote for Tafoya is a vote for the beautiful, cascading American flag I see rippling outside my Minneapolis hotel window. A vote for Failing Flanagan is a vote for more of the same: elevated crime, expansive social experiments, and multibillion-dollar leakage that has become synonymous with the smaller, blue, Somali-looking state flag withering in the wind.

To understand the type of woman Miss Peggy is, consider this. She called Christopher Columbus a “man who got lost and hurt people.” She wore a shirt with a knife on it that read “protect trans kids” to a campaign event. She is the architect of Minnesota’s monstrous trans refuge laws, which mandate state override of parents when their children want gender-mutilation care. She directed $7.9 million in taxpayer dollars to a nonprofit that hands out booty-bumping kits so drug users can get high on heroin through their lower cheeks. She studied child psychology at the University of Minnesota, where, apparently, the only thing she learned was how to be insufferable, how to don a burqa, and that her Native American name is Wei-Woddam Ukwe. 

Her plans as senator? Destroy ICE, raise taxes, magically deliver Medicare for All, and push crippling, costly Green New Deal policies. And while her policies drain Minnesotans’ pocketbooks, she keeps getting richer. Miss Peggy’s net worth climbed a thousandfold during her eight years as lieutenant governor, a stretch in which she oversaw as much as $9 billion in fraud.

Eight years ago, Miss Peggy served as the ranking Democrat on the House subcommittee on Childcare Access and Affordability. That same year, a whistleblower on that team warned that her fraud project had the potential to become Minnesota’s Watergate. It became exactly that, alongside another $29 million in fraud cases.

In fact, instead of condemning and fixing the fraud she let fester, she rewarded the criminals. Salman Ahmed Elmi, a 30-year-old from St. Paul, was charged with multiple felony counts of Medicaid fraud and theft totaling between $1 million and $4.5 million. Miss Peggy gave him the Outstanding Refugee Award.

Defraud Minnesotans? Gold star, says Miss Peggy.

She has eight years of damage under her belt. If you’re a Minnesotan who feels like something has changed for the worse, ask yourself: Has your life improved under this woman’s oversight? Black or white, has she delivered? Or is she only pandering to the rainbow radicals and the clan-first transplants, the “bananas and rice” crowd, if you will.

Tafoya offers a different path. She speaks to the silenced, the seemingly forgotten, the gears that turn this state—the folks quietly waiting in their cozy, winter-ready homes this afternoon, wondering whether they should head out to the polls under the gray clouds of November rain.

She values legal immigration, as a granddaughter of immigrants who adopted her daughter from Colombia, and she believes America should be a nation of dreamers and also a nation of law and order. She values police, because she wants her and your families to know children are safe in schools, safe on playgrounds, and safe at Friday-night football games under the lights. Free from the gangs that have gangrened these formerly viridian grounds. She values your hard-earned dollars and wants them to go to startups and into flourishing businesses, not back into the greedy and corrupt hands of government. She values the innovation that made Minnesota prosperous, from the Mayo Clinic to 3M. She values Minnesota, not Mogadishu. 

Republicans haven’t won a U.S. Senate seat here since Norm Coleman in 2002, but they could if they, Independents, and Democrats sick of false promises and fringe candidates on their own side show up.

So, Minnesotans who miss their Minnesota: go vote. Vote your way out of high taxes, regulation, rising crime, woke weirdness, boys in girls’ bathrooms, and toward a home that looks like the one you remember. Because these are your towns, your kids, your backroads, your lakes. Go vote before they’re taken from you for good.

It’s gray out now, but tomorrow could be a lot brighter.

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