https://www.city-journal.org/article/minneapolis-george-floyd-square
When I arrived in Minneapolis, the frost had just lifted, and gray clouds hung low over the horizon. I had come to make a pilgrimage to George Floyd Square, where the revolution of 2020 began. It has been more than five years since Floyd lost his life and became a patron saint of the Left, and I wanted to see what had happened here since then.
The square is situated in a run-down intersection that now features a statue of a clenched black fist in the central roundabout. On one corner stands a minimarket called Unity Foods—formerly Cup Foods—where George Floyd passed the counterfeit bill that set off the chain of events that culminated in his death. Across the street is an abandoned gas station that has been covered in graffiti and protest slogans since the initial unrest.
A group of vagrants had lit a bonfire in a metal drum beneath the gas station canopy. When I asked them about Floyd, they avoided the question; they weren’t interested in politics. They had chosen the spot to light fires, fence stolen goods, and smoke fentanyl, because it was peaceful and nobody bothered them.
In the frenzied year of 2020, politicians in Minneapolis and the Minnesota state government made grand promises about what George Floyd Square would become. They purchased property and pledged monuments. Then, as the years passed, their political will evaporated and everything ground to a halt. One city official told me the neighborhood wanted to reopen for business, while political leaders wanted to preserve the square as an ideological symbol. The result: nobody got what he wanted.
The scars of the revolution remain. The intersection at 38th Street and Chicago Avenue now has an eerie feeling, as if the George Floyd moment were frozen in time. A shattered window at Unity Foods has remained unrepaired for five years. The graffiti on the bus-stop shelters has started to chip and peel. The slogans scrawled on the gas station walls are fading reminders of the naive ebullience of that early moment.
As I walked around, I spotted two smartly dressed white women who appeared to be visiting the square as one might a religious shrine. Striking up a conversation, I learned that one was a Minneapolis resident; the other, her sister, was visiting from New York City. They wanted to pay their respects to Floyd. They seemed to be trying not to show fear at the visible homelessness and disorder.
When I asked the women about Minneapolis mayor Jacob Frey, the local woman said, “No comment.” She instead shifted the conversation to President Trump, who, she said, was “clawing back all of the progress” that had been made toward social justice.
