In north Minneapolis, Council Member Blong Yang faces balancing act

About an hour into a north Minneapolis community forum on public safety and policing, Council Member Blong Yang found himself facing a familiar dilemma.

Just past the halfway point in his first term, Yang takes pride in being the first Hmong-American elected to the council, in leading efforts to bring more affordable housing to the North Side, and in being a plain-spoken guy who wants to do right for a part of the city he's called home for 15 years.

But he also faces sustained criticism from some in his diverse ward who say he doesn't represent their interests, particularly in matters of police-community relations. With a year and a half remaining before the next election, he's the only council member who has already picked up a challenger.

Last fall, after police shot and killed Jamar Clark on a street in Yang's council ward, the first-term council member and chairman of the council's public safety committee was forced to make a choice: publicly question the actions of his city's police department, or challenge the constituents who believed the police had done wrong.

Now, as the forum at North Commons Recreation Center devolved into a shouting match, with audience members lobbing questions and insults at Yang, the panel of police officers he'd assembled, and at each other, the council member hit a breaking point.

"Listen!" he screamed into the microphone, his voice cracking and barely registering above the noise. "Listen! My goodness, let's be reasonable and respectful because if we're not going to be that, we might as well just call this a day and go home."

For a moment, it seemed like Yang was ready to do just that. But after a pause, he continued.

In an earlier interview, he said he's determined to keep his seat and to continue acting in what he sees as the city's best interests, even when it's not popular.

"Certain people, they feel like they want to call people names," Yang said. " 'You're not progressive enough,' 'You're not liberal enough,' 'You're not this,' 'You don't care about this person or this group of people.' My job is to do everything I can to help my constituents in Ward Five. My other job is to figure out what's best for the city of Minneapolis. I take those two things very seriously."

A 'nobody' finds success

Yang, 39, sees himself as a perpetual underdog.

Born in a refugee camp in Thailand, he immigrated to the U.S. with his family at age 3. Growing up in Merced, Calif., he was the oldest of six children in a family that got by with the help of public assistance.

In a high school government class, Yang stumbled into an interest in the law. All of the people in the history books who had ended up running the country seemed to have been lawyers, so he figured: Huh, why not me?

After college in California, Yang landed at the University of Minnesota Law School, which had offered him a scholarship. He spent a couple of years working for legal aid before opening up a private legal practice, getting married and settling down for good in north Minneapolis.

In 2012, Yang entered his first political race, for the Hennepin County Board. He lost, but it wasn't by a landslide, and Yang felt like that meant something about the political future of a self-described "nobody."

A year later, he decided to try again, this time for City Council. Yang knew it could be tough; he'd have to find a wide base of support in a diverse ward where crime and poverty are everyday concerns for many residents — including himself. He said that's a big part of why he ran for office.

"We had been burglarized several times, had our car windows shot, had our back door kicked in several times. My wife had been mugged," Yang said. "It just got to the point where we either had to do something different or we were just going to leave. And here I am."

In the lead-up to the election, Yang didn't garner the full backing of his party, the DFL. But he won anyway. Council President Barb Johnson, who also represents north Minneapolis, said the neighborhoods Yang represents are places where "people say what they think," and Yang's sometimes-unpolished style resonates there.

"They don't try and dance around and talk politically correct," she said, "and I think they respect people who talk the same way. I think it's to [Yang's] benefit to be plain-spoken and clear about why he's doing something."

Questions over equity

On the council dais and in his public exchanges, Yang is frequently blunt. He's introduced measures he sees as straightforward ways to combat racial inequities, including repealing three low-level ordinances he said were likely to be used by the police to target people of color, and expanding the city's programs for selling and building affordable housing on vacant lots.

Jamil Ford, president of a North Side architecture firm, has worked with Yang on several projects, and said he's been impressed with Yang's advocacy for local businesses and willingness to talk about economic development.

"He's somebody that is willing to listen, whether he has objections or not, and I think that goes a long way in politics," Ford said.

Equity advocates, though, have seized on Yang's criticism of some racial equity efforts he sees as more talk than action, and on his support for police.

Some critics have said Yang doesn't fully represent a ward where nearly 52 percent of residents are black, 20 percent are white, 14 percent are Asian, 8 percent are Latino, and many are struggling to get by. The average household income is $39,799, well under the city average of $65,898, and the unemployment rate is 24 percent.

When protesters took over the police department's Fourth Precinct, calling for answers in Clark's shooting and for broader police reforms, Yang stayed away. While a handful of council members joined the protests, Yang stood with police officials and the mayor in calling for the occupation to end — a move he said was necessary to keep police and residents safe.

Challenger emerges

Raeisha Williams said that move didn't sit well with some in the Fifth Ward. The 33-year-old communications director for the Minneapolis NAACP intends to run against Yang next year. Williams, who grew up in Minneapolis and attended North High School, worked in the office of the Washington, D.C., mayor before returning to Minneapolis and getting involved in local issues, including the Fourth Precinct protests.

She appeared on CNN, where she said the NAACP was convinced Minneapolis police were involved in a shooting that injured five protesters outside the precinct. (Four men, who are not police officers, were eventually charged in the shooting.)

Later, she publicly took issue with Yang's last-minute attempt to budget $605,000 for repairs and upgrades to the Fourth Precinct. She spoke at a packed public hearing, telling Yang his first term would be his last and that other council members who supported him should be "on notice."

"I don't think he adequately represents the community, and that means the community as a whole," Williams said this month.

Yang, however, stands by the Fourth Precinct funding plan and all of his actions during the weeks of unrest. He said he felt torn. He wanted to protect people on all sides of the issue, but felt a strong sense of duty to work within the law to respond to people's concerns.

Yang said he agrees with many of the goals of Black Lives Matter and others who have spoken out against the city, the council and the police. But he's not willing to employ some of the tactics they use to share their message. "This idea that, 'Blong, you're not with Black Lives Matter, you're not representing your people, you're a terrible person …' " he said, shrugging. "I guess I'll just let people decide that. I can't control that."

Erin Golden • 612-673-4790