When I watch the news coverage about the flow of migrants at the southern border of the U.S., I think: Shouldn't we be seeing more arrivals here in Minnesota?

Of course, there's no way to know an answer for that.

The tide of migrants entering the U.S. from Mexico is one of the main issues in the 2024 presidential campaign. Yet, the constant focus on border chaos is disconnected from the needs of Minnesota and slow-growing states like it.

With a population of 5.71 million in the 2020 census, Minnesota added just 27,337 people by mid-2023, census data shows, making it one of the slowest-growing states at a mere half-percent in three years.

Now consider that, when the latest employment data was released on Thursday, it showed there were 42,000 fewer people in Minnesota's workforce this January than in January 2020, just before the pandemic. Minnesota is one of the few states that hasn't fully recovered its workforce size since COVID-19 hit, chiefly because we're seeing so many baby boomers retire while also getting relatively few immigrants.

Despite having champions in both parties, immigration reform that would help slow-growing economies has gotten nowhere in Washington. The U.S. immigration system hasn't had a comprehensive overhaul since 1965.

"Our system doesn't match the current migration needs that we see in the world, and it doesn't meet the needs we have in the United States as we see people aging out of the workforce," Micaela Schuneman of the International Institute of Minnesota, a refugee services agency in St. Paul, said at a workforce conference held by the Minnesota Chamber last week.

I don't want Minnesota to experience the chaos that the border towns of Texas have seen. Yet I do want our population and economy to grow more than they are, and increased immigration is the fastest way for that to happen.

Where is Minnesota feeling the effects of the immigration surge? Schools, relief agencies and, to a degree that is still not quite clear, workplaces.

The school impact became visible in December when state officials cited the growth of "English learners" — a category of students that tends to be reflective of immigrants — as a surprise reason education-related spending was higher than expected.

After falling off in the pandemic-shaped school year of 2020-21, the number of English learners has moved steadily upward. This school year, it moved above its growth line over the past decade. There are now 84,050 English learners in Minnesota's public schools, up 4.8% from last school year.

Officials in both the Minneapolis and St. Paul school districts in recent months have cited the influx of migrant children — a few hundred for each district — for stymieing enrollment declines this year. It's a tradeoff, however. At a meeting of the Minneapolis school board's finance committee on Tuesday, a district official told board members, "While we're happy to have them, it's an additional cost."

Meanwhile, in a recent front-page account of migrants who compete for day jobs in south Minneapolis, my colleague Maya Rao noted the effect on relief agencies. Hennepin County's family shelters are at five times their regular capacity, with half the people being migrants from Latin America.

One of her stories in January, I'm afraid, has had a bigger effect on Minnesotans' perceptions of the immigration situation here. It said Minnesota ranked fifth in places that asylum-seeking migrants went after being sent to New York City. That's a Top 5 ranking. We must be getting a lot of people, right?

No.

That story said 1,177 migrants had taken tickets from New York City to Minnesota — over two years.

The state has a reputation for welcoming refugees, who became a separate class of immigrants in 1980. Even that number does not feel large at the moment. Of refugee arrivals from Oct. 1, 2023, through Jan. 31, 2024, 869 came to Minnesota out of 31,000 nationally. About half of those Minnesota arrivals were either from Somalia or Myanmar.

People with refugee status can go to work right away. People seeking asylum in the U.S. have to wait four months to get employment authorization after applying.

One morning last week, Judge Kalin Ivany at the Fort Snelling Immigration Court had a docket of nearly 75 people for initial removal proceedings. All asked for asylum.

One man from Venezuela told her that everything was difficult there. "One would like to get a job, but if anyone sees you're getting money, you will be robbed," he said.