Looking in the Mirror: Five Years Later

Looking in the Mirror: Five Years Later

Every mirror tells a story—

not just of what we see, but of what we’ve been taught not to see.

Each morning, we glance in the mirror. We adjust a collar, smooth a strand of hair, check the reflection that prepares us to face the world. But what if we paused? What if we looked longer?

Because a mirror doesn’t only reflect our appearance.

It reflects our inheritance: the ancestors who made our existence possible, the systems that shaped our path, the truths that live just beneath the surface. It can reveal the lives erased, the pain silenced, the discomfort we’re taught to avoid.

If we let it, the mirror can become a tool—not just for reflection, but for reckoning.

Each year, as May 25 approaches, I look in the mirror with intention.

That day changed everything.

The day George Floyd was murdered by a Minneapolis police officer on a street corner in the very neighborhood where I grew up—the pain and rage were undeniable. The truth that had shaped my life could no longer be dismissed. What I had known for years became visible to the world. Black lives are too often devalued, safety isn’t guaranteed and injustice is systemic.

Now, May 25 is no longer just a date.

It is a mirror.

One I hold up to myself, to my leadership as the Founding Executive Director of GreenLight Fund Twin Cities, and to the field of philanthropy where I work. It’s a mirror I hold up to our partners, our funders, our community. And every year, I struggle with what it reflects: that everything changed—and nothing did.

The question I return to is this: How do we use the mirror not just to see more clearly, but to act more courageously? Because five years later, the stakes are even higher.

We’re living in a time of deep contradiction. On one hand, we’ve seen bold mobilization for justice, transformative ideas gaining traction, and a growing recognition that the systems we inherited must be reimagined—not merely reformed.

And now, we’re seeing reversal of that progress:

Civil rights rollbacks. Diversity, Equity and Inclusion under attack. Federal funding removed from programs addressing racial equity, community safety alternatives and inclusive education. Voting rights eroded. Affirmative action dismantled. A moment marked by withdrawal and fueled by fear.

And yet I still believe.

Not because the path is easy or the progress guaranteed, but because I’ve seen what’s possible when we listen deeply and act boldly.

One of the greatest honors of my work at GreenLight Fund Twin Cities is getting to ask my community not just what’s wrong, but what’s possible. And the true privilege—the deeper responsibility—is being able to respond.

We don’t assume we have the answers. We listen with intention, humility, and urgency. Then, we act, bringing in powerful, proven solutions that reflect the dreams, needs, and brilliance of our community.

That’s why I still believe.

Because I’ve witnessed Black mothers, through Irth, finally receive the respectful, culturally affirming care they’ve always deserved—care rooted in dignity, not disparity.

I’ve seen how Food Connect bridges the gaps in our food system—so no one in our community has to go hungry.

I’ve heard students using Inner Explorer describe feeling calmer, more focused, and ready to engage with the world around them.

And I’ve stood with individuals supported by Let Everyone Advance With Dignity (LEAD) as they reclaim their futures through a vision of safety rooted in dignity, love, and respect—not punishment.

This work is about more than programs addressing specific issues. It’s about possibility.

It’s about building a Twin Cities where care, dignity, and opportunity are not the exception—but the expectation. Food, health, safety—these aren’t separate issues—they are deeply connected. When mothers feel safe, babies thrive. When youth are supported, cycles of trauma break. When families are nourished, entire communities rise.

That’s the story we’re telling at GreenLight: a bold, coordinated response to complex challenges—rooted in listening, driven by hope, and ignited by the unwavering belief in what our community can achieve, together.

And if you’re reading this, I want you to believe, too.

Not just in what’s possible—but in your responsibility to help make it real.

Because belief without action won’t change a thing.

But know that this will require more of us. More courage. More risk. More truth. Boldness.

It will require us to look at ourselves in the mirror and ask not just, How do I look?—but Who am I accountable to? What legacy am I leaving?

Let the mirror be a portal. A portal to reckoning. To responsibility. To reimagining. To building something new and to honoring all those like George Floyd who are no longer here to stand in front of it with us.

I hope your reflection calls you to act—not just in moments of crisis, but in the quiet, consistent work of building something greater.

We owe it to them.

We owe it to each other.

We owe it to my son Leo, my niece Leila and the children in your families.

We owe it to what’s next.

Here’s my ask—Print this. Tape it to your mirror. Let it interrupt your routine and call you to act—every day.

I will carry the work forward—with courage, with care, with community.

In partnership, love, and care,

Simone Hardeman-Jones, Founding Executive Director of GreenLight Fund Twin Cities