COREY STRONG

Lately I cannot stop thinking about our listeners in Minneapolis.

I keep opening the news, closing it, opening it again, and feeling that familiar tightness in my chest. The kind that sits right behind your ribs and does not really go away. If you are part of my Corey Pod family and you are reading this from Minnesota, I want you to know this first:

We see you.

We are thinking about you.

We care about you.

There are many of you listening from the Minneapolis area, and you are not just listeners to me. You are part of the family that shows up every week, that sends messages, that shares stories, that trusts me with your hearts and your time. So today this space is for you.

I cannot stop thinking about the young woman Renee Good, and an unarmed black man Keith Porter (who’s death has been less publicized) both lost their life due to the cruelty of ICE agent. It is devastating. It is terrifying. It is enraging. It is wrong.

A close acquaintance of mine lives in southern Minneapolis. He recently told me that ICE came into his place of work. Agents threw his manager to the ground, fired tear gas into a crowd of employees, and hauled off two workers, one of whom was pregnant. Just writing that makes my stomach drop.

This is not distant. This is not theoretical. This is happening to real people, in real workplaces, in real communities that we care about.

I reached out to him yesterday to ask how he and his wife were doing. I sent a DM on Instagram because I knew he might be too overwhelmed to talk. His wife wrote back with words that have been sitting with me ever since:

“We are devastated. However, there is a strong community spirit here in Minneapolis and we are doing the best we can for each other. This has been very numbing just to witness the injustice. When we all watch the videos, we just cry.

We both feel different impulses at different times. It has been unbearable most days, and other days we are making it. We try to help others in the community by feeding those who are hungry and suffering right now.

My job is collecting toilet paper, food, and basics for people who are scared to leave their homes. I have a strong instinct to be a witness and ensure my kids’ neighbors are safe right now. Instead of hollering ‘f you,’ I fantasize about going up to ICE agents and asking a barrage of dumb questions like, ‘So what do you like most about your job?’ and of course I do realize that this is a dangerous thing to do.

Thanks for checking in on us. Looking ahead to better days.”

I keep rereading her words. The devastation. The numbness. The community care. The quiet courage. The way people are still finding ways to show up for each other even while carrying fear in their bodies.

It feels important to say this out loud. This is a scary, sad, enraging, and deeply disturbing time in American history. And still, people are feeding neighbors, checking on families, collecting supplies, and trying to keep each other safe. That matters. It deserves to be witnessed.

If you are in Minnesota, I would truly love to hear from you. How are you feeling right now? What does your day to day look like? What do you need more of? , whether it is rest, resources, prayer, space, or simply someone saying your name and holding your story gently.

If you are watching the news from somewhere else, how are you processing what you are seeing. What news sources or outlets have you found most helpful or grounding?

For me, I regularly listen to The New York Times’ and Pod Save America. They help me stay informed while also reminding me that I am not alone in trying to make sense of this moment.

I am sending so much love and care to Minneapolis, to Minnesota, and to everyone carrying the emotional weight of what is unfolding around us.

With love,

Corey