Yuen: When transplants to Minnesota can't find friends, we all should be concerned

Jhaelynn Elam is the kind of social workhorse who befriends strangers at the grocery store and organizes happy hours just to bring people together. "I make people be my friends," she says.

Yet she knows many other transplants to the Twin Cities are shyer and quieter, still trying to find their footing in a place that is often described as insular. In Elam's mind, we need an ecosystem that would serve up a constant buffet of outings for people to connect, so newcomers to the area can more easily meet their future mentors, friends and village.

That's why Elam is working hard to build up the social fabric of Black professionals in the Twin Cities. Her business, the B Suite, hosts monthly informal gatherings in downtown Minneapolis, as well as yoga classes and panel discussions (a recent chat featured HR professionals who dispensed advice on how to ask for a raise).

With many offices no longer bustling 40 hours a week like they were before COVID, new arrivals to the Twin Cities are arguably less likely to develop deep friendships in the cube farm. Groups like B Suite are filling the gap for social connection among transplants of color, providing options for the 5-to-9 once the 9-to-5 is done.

"You move here and you have this great job," she said. "How do you go below the surface with people that are like-minded? If your family's all the way in Florida, who can you call when the holidays come around? How are you able to build community more thoughtfully and intentionally? Because it's not at work."

Elam, 31, is an Ohio native who moved to Minnesota three years ago after General Mills lured her with a job offer as a food scientist. She said she initially turned down the opportunity twice, not interested in relocating to the place of George Floyd's murder.

But she gave Minnesota a shot after hearing mildly encouraging reviews from other Black friends who had moved to the region for their careers. Over time, Elam's passion for food science waned, and she no longer works for a Fortune 500 company in a land rich with them. But she's still here, driven by a sense of purpose to smooth the road to lasting friendships for other transplants like herself.

Greater MSP, the regional economic development partnership, said these efforts are vital. Its study of newcomers to Minneapolis-St. Paul published in 2019 found that the region has improved in retaining people relative to out-of-state migration, but it performs poorly among highly educated people of color.

Nearly a third of Greater MSP's survey respondents said they were likely to leave the region within the next three to five years. That number skyrocketed to 49% among Black respondents, whose reasons for fleeing included the lack of diversity and cultural awareness, along with — fat surprise — the weather.

Why is this every Minnesotan's problem? If we care about economic growth, we should listen to the stories of people who've felt socially jilted.

"Somebody could easily move back to D.C. or Houston or Chicago and find the vibe or fullness of life they're seeking," said Ieesha McKinzie Collins, managing director ConnextMSP, which is part of the Greater MSP partnership. "We want the MSP region competitive and thriving and creating that economic growth. If we don't care about all Minnesotans feeling a sense of place, we're going to lose them."

Collins and others are building networks of emerging leaders, sharing wisdom about career and salary advancement that could help close the racial wealth gap in Minnesota. Another business, Playfessionals, was co-founded by her husband, Corey Collins. That company hosts social events, from golf to wine club, in hopes of building more authentic relationships that go deeper than a LinkedIn connection.

The B Suite draws crowds into the first-floor retail space it shares with Strive Bookstore in downtown's Young Quinlan building, where a grand staircase hints of its history as a department store and JB Hudson jewelry shop. The B Suite's monthly rent payments are based on a percentage of its revenue as part of the Minneapolis Downtown Council's Chameleon Shoppes incubator program for small businesses. Elam plans to soon expand it into a co-working space.

Adam Duininck, the council's CEO and president, recruited Elam to serve on his board after hearing her personal story and anecdotes from countless transplants of color who've struggled to tap into a social network here. Employers and business leaders should be concerned, he said.

"We have reputation work that has to be done," he told me. "We are the city where George Floyd was murdered. We need to be honest with ourselves with the racial dynamics here and our history. If we're not honest with ourselves, that reputation isn't going to change, and it will be harder to attract workers in the future."

Krystin Foster remembers trying to climb her way out the isolation deepened by a polar vortex shortly after moving here in January 2019. She even joined an app geared toward finding new friends. The 36-year-old Michigan native has lived in Indiana and various cities on the East Coast, but found the toughest social circle to crack was in Minnesota.

We've all heard the joke that Minnesotans will give you directions to everywhere but their own house. Some explain this aloofness to outsiders by noting the state historically has an unusually high percentage of residents who were born here.

"They have their friend groups already, and they're not looking to add to their friend groups," Foster said. "It's not a bad thing. I understand that. It's just that it's pretty lonely when you don't have any family, you don't have any friends, and you very rarely see people who look like you. You're trying to grow personally and professionally, but you're isolated."

When I first moved to Minnesota in 2004 for a boyfriend-now-husband, I remember people telling me that it's easier to make friends in this family-focused region once you start having children. One real estate agent said "kids are a great on-ramp" to enduring friendships, which made me, then childless, shudder.

This is terrible advice, but two decades later, I can say it was prophetic. Many of my closest friends today are the parents of my children's buddies. Still, people should not have to procreate to find friends.

On the whole, retention efforts appear to be moving in the right direction. The latest census estimates show a net outflow of about 5,000 people from the Twin Cities to other parts of Minnesota and the nation in 2023, a much smaller loss than in previous years, according to state demographer Susan Brower.

Still, within the tight group of BIPOC friends Foster eventually made, she knows that many won't stay forever. "You expect them to leave, so it's kind of sad," said Foster, who works in human resources. "I just had a friend who moved to Houston. You expect people to come and go."

Foster herself thought of moving back to her home state of Michigan, a prospect made easier when she landed a fully remote job last year. But now, with five years under her belt as a Minnesotan, she can point to a cadre of close friendships. It's those ties — along with the natural beauty of the region — that keep her planted. Each time she attends a B Suite gathering hosted by Elam, her circle grows a little larger.

Elam thinks back to her own initiation to the Twin Cities, when she impatiently yearned to find her future friends. "Where are we?" she asked herself.

If she can help it, Black professionals who come here seeking opportunity will no longer have to wonder.