THE WALZ ADMINISTRATION IS COMPROMISED, BROKEN, AND IT HAS BETRAYED MINNESOTA TAXPAYERS. Minnesotans don’t need a lecture from the Governor about how “well-run” our state is. We know the truth because we live it every single day. We are the ones waking up before dawn, scraping ice off our windshields, packing lunches, and getting the kids to school. We are the ones who show up to work, build our businesses from nothing, stand 12-hour shifts in hospitals, and do it all with the quiet pride of people who understand responsibility. We pay taxes—not because it is easy, or cheap—but because we believe in the betterment of Minnesota.
We believe Minnesota is a place where struggling neighbors aren’t abandoned, where the vulnerable are protected, and where families can grow strong. Where sacrifice today means a better tomorrow for our children. That’s what we invest in.
That’s the Minnesota we work for. And Governor Tim Walz took that trust—that deep moral contract between the public and its government—and handed it over to criminals. Recent reporting has confirmed what many Minnesotans have sensed for years: fraud didn't simply sneak into our social programs—it was allowed to flourish. Criminal networks and sham nonprofits didn't magically discover software glitches or unexplored cracks in the system. They saw a government afraid to enforce rules, terrified of accusations of cultural insensitivity, and more focused on political image than protecting taxpayers. They flagged suspicious providers. They reported impossible numbers, duplicate services, and nonexistent clients. They begged leadership to intervene. Instead of being heard, they were told to back down. Some were instructed to “avoid targeting certain groups,” and others were warned that investigating certain organizations could “create unnecessary community tensions.” What message does that send?
To taxpayers: your money is expendable.
To fraudsters: Minnesota won’t stop you. By the time federal authorities stepped in, hundreds of millions were gone. When prosecutions finally came, Walz didn’t admit failure—he claimed credit. As though U.S. attorneys and federal investigators took direction from the Governor’s Office. Minnesotans know better. Leadership is not something that appears only when the cameras are on. Real leadership prevents disaster in the first place. Meanwhile, as billions were siphoned away, the health of our state deteriorated. We squandered the largest budget surplus in Minnesota history—$18 billion—and plunged into a $6 billion deficit in less than two years. Our schools are failing, test scores are declining, classrooms are scrambling to keep teachers, and students are suffering. Homeowners have watched property taxes surge by a billion dollars in a single year, and families across the state feel the squeeze every time they open their mailbox or pay their heating bill. And what does Tim Walz call this?
A “well-run state.” I speak with Minnesotans every day—farmers, single parents, retirees, fellow small business owners, law enforcement officers, and teachers. They do not call this “well-run.” They call it disheartening, corrupt, and unsustainable. We are no longer a prosperous Minnesota. We are an exploited Minnesota—exploited by criminals, exploited by bureaucrats who prioritize their own political interests, and exploited by an administration that refuses to take responsibility. Instead of serving Minnesotans, the Walz administration serves its own image. Instead of accountability, it offers excuses. Instead of transparency, it hides information from the public and shields fraudsters under investigation. This is not a partisan debate. It is a question of dignity. Who does our government work for?
The families who abide by the rules?
Or the people who abuse the system without consequence? Minnesotans deserve a say in how their tax dollars are used. They deserve strong oversight, integrity, and leaders who will protect them from fraud instead of enabling it. They deserve to see every hard-earned dollar go to those who need it—not to networks of opportunists who have figured out how to play our state like a slot machine. In the next election, the people of Minnesota will make a choice:
Do we continue down this path of abuse and negligence—or do we reclaim our state, our future, and our security? I know where I stand: with the Minnesotans who have paid for this failure twice—first with their tax dollars, and again with lost opportunity. I hope the rest of our state will wake up and stand with them, too. —Representative Erica Schwartz |