Meet our new Gen Z contributing columnist, Haley Taylor Schlitz

Opinion editor’s note: Strib Voices publishes a mix of material from 11 contributing columnists, along with other commentary online and in print each day. To contribute, click here.

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When I stepped off the plane in Minnesota last year, I was returning to a place that had existed mostly in fragments of childhood memories.

My family back in Texas are devoted Minnesota Vikings fans and every so often we would make the trip north for a game. Those visits were brief and narrow, just purple and gold crowds on cold afternoons, a state glimpsed through stadium seats. I never imagined it would become my home.

Yet when I finished law school and began looking for where to start my career, Minnesota kept drawing my attention. I wanted to practice law in a place that valued public service and community, somewhere I could grow both professionally and personally. I landed a job at the Minnesota Attorney General’s Office, so living in St. Paul made sense for practical reasons. The short commute to the office mattered when I was nervous about starting this next chapter alone. I signed a lease on an apartment sight unseen.

What began as a practical choice has since deepened into something far more meaningful. I did not just move to St. Paul. I found a community.

It shows up in the rhythm of daily life. At concerts at the Xcel Energy Center. At the farmers market tucked into a downtown corner. And at the constant stream of events in city parks.

In my first 14 months as a Minnesota resident, some moments stand out. At the Minnesota State Fair, I saw Minnesota Nice in its fullest form. In the middle of the Great Minnesota Get-Together, I felt the pride Minnesotans carry in their state and the sense of community that comes when people gather not just to eat food on a stick, but to share in something larger than themselves.

Yet I have also learned how fragile that unity can be. Since moving here, I have seen the horror and heartbreak of a school shooting and witnessed the shock of political violence after the assassination of state Rep. Melissa Hortman and her husband. These moments remind me that the vision of one Minnesota lives side by side with the forces of division and hate that too often erupt into violence.

And yet, it is in community that I have found my deepest sense of belonging. On July 4th, surrounded by my sorority sisters in downtown St. Paul, we rented scooters, laughed under the night sky, and for the first time in a long time I felt free enough to simply be myself.

That freedom is no small thing. Growing up in Texas, I often found myself in conversations and interactions where I was forced to be in the mindset of listening to respond. As a young Black woman, I was conditioned to stay alert for microaggressions and subtle hostility, rehearsing my answers before words were even spoken.

In Minnesota, I have slowly learned to listen to understand. That shift has given me a new way to be present with people, to have conversations without carrying the weight of defense. It is a kind of openness I want to keep practicing and sharing.

We also process all of this in the place where my peers feel most at home: TikTok. It is the app my generation raised, starting from before it merged with Musical.ly. TikTok is where we laugh, cry, organize and document our realities in real time. Its humor is sharp, its honesty is sometimes brutal, and its comment sections often reveal more than the videos themselves. For Gen Z, it is a mirror and a diary, a unifying thread in a fragmented world.

That is the spirit I want to bring here. Not just stories about Gen Z, but stories told through our lens, with the honesty, humor and hope that define us.

My move to Minnesota has taught me that belonging can be built, that listening can be more than survival, and that community can grow in places we least expect.