It was almost two years ago that I first saw the new Minnesota state flag flying over the State Capitol. At the time, it was an unexpected relief that left me feeling better about the state of our country. The Minnesota flag was a little thing, to be sure, but after a lengthy process, people came together and made the world just a little bit better. The flag proved that change was possible.
It’s been an action-packed two years since that day, but one thing has been consistent: The new Minnesota flag has aged well. Over the last few months, with Minnesota as ground zero for the federal government’s malicious immigration campaign, the flag came into its own, acquired complexity, and to my eye, means something new.
Despite recent headlines from more conservative corners of the state, doubling down on the old, mediocre and racist flag, I am guessing that I’m not alone.
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“It has served its purpose,” said Kate Beane, a history expert and Dakota tribal member who served on the state emblems commission. “I’ve seen it on the news behind the president, behind people in office, and you can spot it right away. It stands out, and its simplicity really does well in visual terms.”
For Beane, the Minnesota flag has evolved in interesting ways. She’s quick to admit that the final design was not one of her favorites. Like many people on the commission, she had leaned toward some of the earlier, more complex designs.
Things have changed.
“I realized over time, especially over the last four months, that the flag was used as a unifying force here in the Twin Cities,” Beane said. “I love it now.”
Symbols seem static and unchanging, but they’re not. They acquire meaning as they are used, sometimes in complex ways that shift over time. Especially these days, in an online era rife with media acceleration, meanings can be appropriated and reappropriated in a kind of political-aesthetic jujitsu. History is full of examples of how flags come alive in moments when they are needed.
This is not to say that Minnesota’s opposition to the federal agents lawless “surge” would have been any less without a new state flag. Other symbols would have surely emerged, like the (to my eye, slightly cringe-worthy) rebel loon. Even that Star Wars appropriation mirrors the new state seal, also a product of the state’s symbol revamp.
Beane wasn’t alone in growing fonder of the state’s new iconography. I also reached out to state Rep. Shelley Buck, DFL-Maplewood, a Dakota tribal member who likewise served on the symbols commission.
“It was an interesting process,” said Buck, describing her time working on the design committee. “It was difficult at times, and I must say the flag we landed on wasn’t in my top 10 originally. But it’s grown on me, and I do like it.”
Like Beane, Buck came to appreciate the new Minnesota flag as it was used by a broad cross-section of Minnesotans in recent months. She is particularly proud of the new seal, which contains the Dakota words Mni Sota Makoce above a triumphant loon rising out of the water. That’s another iconic gesture that’s gained traction since it was unveiled.
This is why I find the recent trend of cities like Elk River, Champlin and North Branch officially flying the obsolete, racist flag baffling. People across the state, of many different political background, have rallied to defend each other against literal assault by the federal government.
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“I’m really disheartened by communities that want to keep flying the previous flag,” Buck said. “I don’t understand why they don’t hear us when we say it’s problematic.”
To my eyes, flying the old Minnesota flag now is akin to flaunting the confederate banner well after the end of the Civil War — always a racist, retrograde gesture. Elected officials acting in this way should be ashamed of themselves.
This isn’t even to mention the aesthetic reasons for disliking the old flag, which pale in comparison. The old flag is hard to read, isn’t adaptable and looks just like flags from a dozen other states.
Buck is a bit kinder than I am, but also takes the racist iconography of the old flag more personally.
“It’s sad to see, and it puts me, as a Dakota person, on the defensive,” Buck said. “I see that flag, and it instantly puts me in that mind frame.”
The situation could not be more clear: The old flag is terrible, and the new simpler flag has shined, assuming dozens of ever-changing iterations. In the last six months, it has been manipulated into all kinds of articles of clothing, lapel pins or political adaptation. As the federal “surge” of agents arrived in Minnesota this winter, the flag donned a new meaning as a banner, a sign of resistance against a federal government that was out of control.
It turns out I wasn’t alone. Beane had a similar reaction.
“As I saw the flag being flown during ‘No Kings’ rallies and protests, my kids took so much pride in seeing it,” Beane said. “Because their mother had been a part of a process in our home, they knew the meaning behind having a new design. It was something that they were so incredibly proud of, and for me, that was what it was all about.”
In the years since she worked on the design committee, seeing her children beam when the flag flew in action, she changed her mind. She admits she’d even fly it at her house now.
“They said, ‘Look mom, it’s our flag’,” Beane told me. “The fact that they saw it as ‘their’ flag, [means] we’ve made some progress. Though we’re living in this difficult time, where it seems like we’re going backwards, it gave me this sense of hope, to think about how far we’ve come and to know that we’re going to be OK.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to correct the attribution on two quotes.
