By Kate Levin, Director of Strategic Outreach, SLLF
Saturday’s news about the shooting of Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman hit me like a punch in the stomach. One moment, I was at the dog park with my family. The next, it felt like a heavy fog descended over everything and days later, it still hasn’t lifted.
As I called the rest of the SLLF team, each conversation was met with the same stunned silence. No words. Just disbelief. I foolishly believed she would pull through, my mind in denial. But when my colleague texted that she and her husband were both gone, the finality settled in.
I had literally just added Melissa’s name to a list of leaders I planned to contact Monday. She was going to connect us to another legislator in her state. Now, unfathomably, she’ll never attend another SLLF program again.
The questions haven’t stopped since.
How could this happen?
Why did this happen?
What was he thinking?
As I tried to process the tragedy and scrolled through social media, one thing became painfully clear: everyone had an opinion.
Was the Minnesota shooter a Trump supporter? A Walz appointee? A MAGA Republican? An ultra-liberal upset about a recent vote? I’ve seen every version of speculation. The desire to demonize the “other side” seems to always find oxygen. But here’s the truth that’s harder to sit with: it doesn’t matter.
In my experience, mental illness doesn’t have a party preference. It doesn’t vote red or blue. And pointing fingers at political affiliation is not what Melissa would have wanted. At least, I don’t believe it is.
In one of her final votes, Rep. Hortman was the only DFL member to side with Republicans on a vote. Why? Because she had given her word. Even though she didn’t agree with the proposal, she understood that honoring her commitment would keep the state government running. That was her integrity on display.
Melissa Hortman knew how to compromise—not her ethics, not her principles, but the practical compromises that make good governance possible. She understood that perfect is often the enemy of good. And that in public service, sometimes success means getting some of what you want so that others get something they need.
She fell on her sword so that every other member of her caucus could return home and tell constituents, “We fought for you.” That is a true leader.
Even when a rare, tied House cost her the Speakership, she didn’t retaliate or obstruct once the dust settled and a powersharing agreement was made. Was she bitter about it? Probably. Was she angry, mad, sad? Likely all the above. But she didn’t let those feelings guide her next steps. Instead, she worked across the aisle to make sure Minnesota didn’t lose a whole session of legislative progress just because the numbers were politically inconvenient. And from that, we could all learn a lot.
Melissa Hortman was exactly the type of leader we loved at SLLF programs. Over her seven years of involvement, she brought energy, candor, curiosity, and a deep commitment to getting things done, not just for Minnesota, but for the country. She came to our programs to learn, to share, and to lift others up.
Her absence from our programs, our lives and our world will be felt for years to come. So let’s not allow her death to become another point of division. Let’s honor her the way she led, with courage, decency, and a refusal to let partisanship win. Because in the end, the ties that bind us are so much stronger than the things that pull us apart.
