Peggy Flanagan has never forgotten what it feels like to hand over the different-colored lunch ticket, or to watch a single mom stretch $20 to the end of the month. Minnesota’s lieutenant governor—and now a Democrat running for the U.S. Senate—grew up in St. Louis Park on Section 8 housing, SNAP, childcare assistance, and Medicaid, experiences that still shape how she talks about policy, power, and who government should work for.
An enrolled member of the White Earth Nation, Flanagan’s Anishinaabe name means “Speaks with a Clear and Loud Voice Woman,” and she’s spent her career living up to it: organizing for higher wages, expanding free school meals, pushing for paid family and medical leave, and centering children and families in nearly every fight. Along the way, she has also been quietly making history—one of the first Native women in the legislature, one of the country’s higest-ranking Indigenous elected officials, and potentially the first Native woman to represent Minnesota in the Senate.
We recently caught up with Lt. Gov. Flanagan to talk about the women who raised her, the young people who keep her hopeful, the fights she’s most proud of, and what it means to carry her community with her into every room—from the State Capitol to Washington, D.C.
Courtesy of Flanagan Campaign
You’ve often spoken about bringing your whole self—your culture, family, and community—to your work. What daily ritual helps you stay connected to those roots while navigating the demands of leadership?
I get up in the morning, and I think for many of us, as we wake up, we grab our phone immediately and start the doom scroll. I’ve been trying not to do that. One of the things that has been important to me is to start the day in prayer. I’m Ojibwe, and one of the things that’s important to me is to smudge with sage and sweetgrass. It helps me get centered and ready for the rest of the day.
Other things that are grounding for me, that might not be daily but are important, are that every Sunday we’re in church. We’re Catholic, and we go to Ascension in North Minneapolis. For me, that’s important—being in our faith community but also remembering that I don’t have to do this all by myself.
I’d also say getting outside—taking a walk, touching grass. Even though it’s chillier now, I bundle up. There’s a route I take around my neighborhood that is grounding for me. And we have Westwood Nature Center here in St. Louis Park, which is one of my absolute favorite places in Minnesota. There’s a loop I do that takes about 35 or 40 minutes, and it’s an incredible reset. You see turkeys and deer, and it’s right in the middle of the city, but it is a really beautiful place to hit reset.
We’re lucky in Minnesota. You can drive 10 or 15 minutes in any direction and be outside, able to center yourself, and then get back to it.
Is there a certain place in Minnesota that always feels like home to you?
That’s a great question. I do think Westwood [Nature Center] is part of that. I was just there for an event last week and was reflecting on how we went there for multiple field trips growing up—building a yurt, doing pond water experiments. Every year of my elementary school experience, that place was a touchstone. So, that feels like home.
I’d also say living in the community that raised me—living here in St. Louis Park and raising my daughter here. I guess I’m a townie. It’s an important place for me and has been foundational for my entire life.
My daughter just had a choir concert, and walking around, I saw all the people I went to middle school with, who are now the parents of the kids there. It’s a progressive and inclusive community that also feels like a small town. I love living here.
Looking ahead, what do you hope Minnesotans will say about this chapter of your leadership, say, 10 years from now?
I hope people say, ‘She was one of us, she knew us, and she fought for us.’ The things I’ve spent my career working on are grounded in making sure children and families have what they need and that people can afford the lives they want to live. My daughter often says my job is to go on field trips and help people, and that’s a pretty good explanation of what I do.
As lieutenant governor over the last seven years, and now as a candidate for U.S. Senate, I’ve been traveling across the state, meeting people where they are, listening to their concerns, hopes, and dreams, and working with communities to implement those things. I hope people say I took on the big fights that helped make people’s lives more affordable.
When I was executive director of Children’s Defense Fund Minnesota, I co-chaired the campaign to raise the minimum wage and index it to inflation. Every year over the last decade, we’ve seen the minimum wage go up here. Before one tough meeting, I called my mom and said I thought we’d have to compromise. She said, “I wish there was someone like you fighting for us when you were growing up.” That grounded me, and I knew what I had to do the next morning.
Paid family and medical leave is another proud moment. I co-founded Minnesotans for Paid Family and Medical Leave when my daughter was an infant. We finally got it across the finish line when she was in fourth grade. That shows me you get what you organize for.
Feeding kids breakfast and lunch every day means so much to me. As a kid with a different-colored lunch ticket, it matters. And hearing from parents who say mornings are less chaotic—that matters, too.
If I’m privileged to be the next senator, I hope people understand I’m not going by myself—we’re all going with me. That’s my hope for the future.
Courtesy of Flanagan Campaign
Who is one of your earliest role models in leadership?
I was raised by a bunch of badass women, so I didn’t know that women didn’t lead or run things. My great-grandmother came over from Ireland when she was 15. Both her parents had died—they had been undertakers and cared for the sick. She and her siblings got on a boat and came to Minnesota. She cleaned houses around Lake of the Isles.
On my dad’s side, my grandma and aunties were incredible survivors who loved me into existence. My grandma was involved in DFL politics before it was polite for women to be at those tables.
My mom worked incredibly hard and sacrificed so much. She went back to school, got her certificate in phlebotomy, and I remember watching her walk across the stage at St. Kate’s in her blue graduation gown and thinking I could do anything.
My aunties ran nonprofits or programs at Hennepin County. My Auntie Mary ran for the state senate when I was 2. I went trick-or-treating handing out lit. She lost by a slim margin, but her niece—me—ran in that same district many years later and won.
My daughter sees these examples, too—like Auntie Deb [Haaland], who was Secretary of the Interior and is now running for governor of New Mexico. For my daughter, that’s normal.
Kids keep you humble. When I became lieutenant governor, she said, ‘Mom, I don’t understand the big deal. You work in the same building. You just have a different job.’
But truly, it was the women in my life who took risks, stepped up, and didn’t put up with any B.S.
Is there something you’re most proud of that might not have made headlines?
The fights around minimum wage and paid family and medical leave are among my proudest accomplishments. But something especially meaningful is chairing the Minnesota Interagency Council on Homelessness.
I grew up housing insecure. A Section 8 housing voucher provided a foundation for my family, so I take this work personally.
One of the most powerful things we did was ensure that people with lived experience were at the table advising state agencies as we developed our comprehensive plan to end homelessness in Minnesota. It’s the first time we’ve incorporated that expertise into state government, and it has been a game changer. Our work is better. The results are better. And those individuals deserve more attention than they get.
I’m really proud of that work and hope it continues long after I’m in this role.
Courtesy of Flanagan Campaign
What gives you hope right now about the next generation of Minnesotans?
Certainly. As the mom of a seventh grader, I see every day that young people have thoughts, opinions, and values—and we need to listen to them. During this campaign, we’ve visited places like St. Olaf, Winona State, and Moorhead, and we’re in rooms full of young people who show up, want to be counted, want us to be bold, and want us to know what’s happening in their lives.
College access and affordability is a huge issue. Young people don’t want to take on mountains of debt. I finished paying off my student loans when I was lieutenant governor, so it resonates. That’s why the North Star Promise is so powerful, and why we should probably do something like it nationally.
Young people are also talking about rent and whether they’ll ever be able to buy a home. This is the first generation that could be worse off than their parents. That’s unacceptable.
We have to encourage young people to be part of the process. I’m excited we secured pre-voter registration for 16- and 17-year-olds. I want them to know they should run for office. I first ran when I was 24.
Young people have so much to contribute. They are not just future leaders—they are leaders right now. At a recent rally with Senator Elizabeth Warren, 1,500 people came—so many of them young. Even though many decisions by adults have let them down, they keep showing up. We ignore them at our peril.
“This is the first generation that could be worse off than their parents. That’s unacceptable.”
–Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan
Finally, let’s talk about your run for U.S. Senate. How does this moment feel for you personally, and what do you hope to bring to Washington, D.C.?
I grew up thinking the bottom could fall out at any moment. A lot of people feel that way right now, and not enough people with that lived experience are in the Senate.
This campaign is about making sure people can afford the lives they want to live. I’m grounded in being Minnesotan. I exist because of the generosity of Minnesotans.
My mom used a Section 8 voucher to find us an apartment in St. Louis Park. SNAP kept food on the table. Medicaid was my health care. I didn’t realize until I was older that when my mom said, ‘I ate at work,’ it meant there wasn’t enough food. All of this is personal—not just for me, but for so many Minnesotans.
We’ve done about 100 events since we launched, all across the state. People who believe in looking out for their neighbors live everywhere. We don’t have to agree on everything, but right now it feels like all of us versus extremists and billionaires. The system feels rigged, and we need people willing to stand up and unrig it.
Minnesotans, our community, our faith, my aunties—they wrapped their arms around my family. Public programs and my mom’s work lifted us toward the middle class. Now I get to pay that back and pay it forward through public service.
My ancestors—Irish Catholic and Anishinaabe—gave me resilience. I see that resilience in Minnesotans every day. I want people to have housing, health care, child care, good schools, and the ability to live anywhere in Minnesota and have access to all of those things.
Courtesy of Flanagan Campaign
