On a cold February evening in Minneapolis, nine writers gathered at the Loft Literary Center to share work, speak truth, and stand together in community. They came not only to read but to make meaning out of hard experiences, using language to connect with and heal those around them.
The event was called Minnesota Writers Respond, and it was held on February 27. The idea was built around the famous quote, “The pen is mightier than the sword,” reminding everyone that words can carry power, history, emotion, and resistance. Writers of different backgrounds came to show how language matters, especially in difficult moments.
The evening was organized by Jessica Nordell, and all nine presenters read pieces that responded to what they see happening in Minnesota and across the country. Many of the works—personal essays, poems, prose, and even translated pieces—aimed to reflect resilience, community strength, and resistance against fear and pain.
Arleta Little, the executive and artistic director of the Loft Literary Center, spoke about how important writers are in times like these. She said that writers are voices for their communities and that their words travel far beyond the room where they are spoken. “Along with the images of our bodies all together marching in the streets,” she said, “our writers have been our representative voices, echoing throughout our state, throughout our country, throughout this world.”
The event came in a moment of tension and pain for many people in Minnesota. Recent increased activity by federal immigration authorities has affected immigrant communities, and there have also been tragedies that have deeply impacted the state. Little described this environment as one of “terrorizing” neighborhoods and communities. Writers at the event aimed to push back against fear and misinformation, reminding listeners that lived experiences, and the words that come from them, matter.
All proceeds from the event were donated to the Immigrant Law Center of Minnesota, a nonprofit that provides free legal help for immigrants and refugees in Minnesota and North Dakota. This focus tied directly into the themes of the evening: supporting community members whose voices are often unheard or ignored.
At the event, each writer took the stage with care. They stood at a podium, read aloud, and made eye contact with audience members. Despite the large group, the space felt both intimate and powerful. There were students, community members, and others seated beside each other, listening closely and reacting as each piece was shared.
One of the notable voices was Curtis Sittenfeld, a well-known author, who read an essay defining what it means to be Minnesotan. Her message was simple but deep: to be Minnesotan is not just a matter of where you live; it’s about who you are and who you choose to be.
Another writer, Lao poet, essayist, and playwright Saymoukda Duangphouxay Vongsay, shared a piece exploring her own family’s history—escaping a labor camp and coming to America in search of safety and opportunity. She spoke about how federal immigration enforcement has changed their sense of welcome in the state, making once friendly spaces feel unfamiliar and empty.
After that, writer Michael Kleber-Diggs read three of his poems. One was about the death of his father. Another was written for a project that challenged writers to respond to deaths caused by police violence. His third imagined a future where community healing was possible. These pieces stirred deep feelings in the room, and many listeners reacted with quiet understanding and empathy.
Across all the readings, a shared theme emerged: language is more than just words on a page. It carries experiences, memories, identities, grief, and hope. It connects people across differences. And it gives communities ways to speak back against fear, pain, and isolation.
After the readings, many people stayed in the room to talk with the writers and representatives from the Immigrant Law Center. People shared stories, made connections, and discussed how they could support their neighbors going forward. The event wasn’t just about performances; it was about building relationships and continuing conversations outside the Loft’s walls.
The evening closed on a strong note: community members left feeling reminded that language—and the people who use it—matters deeply, especially when lives and rights are on the line.
