Catholic and private school leaders across Minnesota had long expressed growing alarm about the safety of their students, but their concerns reached a pointed and unmistakable urgency in 2023, when they formally warned Governor Tim Walz that nonpublic schools were in what they described as “urgent and critical need” of security support. Nearly a year before the devastating shooting at a Minneapolis Catholic school that left two people dead, seventeen injured, and an entire community shaken, they sent a detailed letter outlining the rising risks facing nonpublic institutions and the structural funding inequalities that left them dangerously exposed. The April 14, 2023 letter—signed by Minnesota Catholic Conference executive director Jason Adkins and MINNDEPENDENT president Tim Benz—offered a grim portrait of the escalating threats confronting faith-based and independent schools. “Our schools are under attack,” they wrote, a phrase that some at the time viewed as rhetorical but which in hindsight reads as chillingly prescient. The letter was made public when the Daily Wire released it and remains archived on the Minnesota Catholic Conference’s website, a stark reminder that the concerns voiced by private school leaders were not born from hindsight but from years of documented vulnerability and repeatedly dismissed requests. At the time, some Minnesotans saw the warning as yet another entry in a politically charged national conversation about school safety. But for leaders within the Catholic, Christian, Jewish, and other private school systems, it was a necessary and urgent call to protect tens of thousands of students and educators—many of whom learned and worked in older buildings lacking modern security measures. When the Minneapolis shooting unfolded, horrified parents and educators immediately resurfaced the 2023 letter, pointing to it as evidence that the risks had been clearly identified, clearly communicated, and ultimately left without a meaningful state response.
The urgency expressed by private school leaders in their 2023 letter did not emerge in isolation, nor did it come out of a moment of political opportunism. Their plea arrived just a week after the Covenant Christian School shooting in Nashville, where three children and three adults were murdered in what became one of the nation’s most searing school tragedies of the decade. For Adkins and Benz, Nashville illustrated with brutal clarity the vulnerabilities shared by faith-based and independent schools nationwide—institutions that often lack the financial resources, formal security teams, or infrastructure upgrades available to public school districts. Their letter emphasized that Minnesota’s private schools, regardless of denomination, were experiencing rising threats ranging from online harassment and vandalism to anti-religious hostility and fears of targeted violence. They highlighted that more than 72,000 Minnesota students attend nonpublic schools—a demographic large enough, they argued, to warrant inclusion in statewide safety initiatives designed to protect children irrespective of the funding model used by their schools. Their request was concrete and straightforward: allocate $50 million in the state’s Education Finance Bill so that nonpublic schools could become eligible for the Building and Cyber Security Grant Program and the Safe Schools Program. These programs fund critical improvements such as secure entrances, surveillance technology, reinforced infrastructure, mental health services, cybersecurity protections, and threat-assessment training. Adkins and Benz insisted that excluding nonpublic schools not only created a dangerous imbalance but actively undermined Minnesota’s stated goal of protecting all children. Their tone blended frustration with firm resolve—they were not asking for special treatment but for the state to recognize that safety should never depend on whether a school is supported by tuition, donations, or public tax levies.
The 2023 request was not unprecedented; rather, it was part of a long-standing effort by private school leaders to persuade Minnesota lawmakers that safety funding must apply to all educational institutions, not just public districts. In 2022, the Minnesota Catholic bishops—including Archbishop Bernard Hebda of St. Paul and Minneapolis—had issued similar appeals urging legislators to expand eligibility for statewide safety programs. They cited episodes of vandalism, arson threats, hate-motivated graffiti, and online intimidation as evidence that religious institutions in Minnesota were facing the same dangers troubling communities across the nation. Despite these concerns, state programs continued to reserve funding for public school districts, charter schools, and cooperative educational entities. The explanation offered by state officials was primarily procedural: nonpublic schools lack the tax-levy framework required for certain programs and therefore cannot participate. But to school leaders, that rationale missed the deeper ethical reality—threats do not distinguish between public and private buildings, and no child’s safety should hinge on the financial structure of the institution they attend. They argued that programs financed through statewide appropriations, rather than local levies, could easily be made accessible to private schools without constitutional or logistical conflict. Their frustration stemmed from a sense of contradiction: Minnesota publicly recognized rising threats to religious institutions in other policy contexts, yet simultaneously maintained a system that left private schools without access to the very safety mechanisms designed to protect vulnerable communities. As long as the state adhered to its narrow funding criteria, leaders contended, tens of thousands of Minnesota students were left unnecessarily and unfairly exposed.
Following the Minneapolis Catholic school shooting, the Walz administration faced intense scrutiny, prompting the governor’s office to issue a public defense of its record. A spokesperson told Fox News that private schools already receive some state support, including access to training offered by the Minnesota School Safety Center. The spokesperson added that “the governor cares deeply about the safety of students and has signed into law millions in funding for school safety.” But for leaders within Minnesota’s Catholic and private school communities, these assurances failed to address the heart of the problem. Training alone, they argued, could not substitute for the physical and technological upgrades required to protect students in an era of increasingly complex and unpredictable threats. The Building and Cyber Security Grant Program, for instance, supports reinforced doors, shatter-resistant glass, entry vestibules designed to prevent unauthorized access, updated surveillance networks, cybersecurity fortification, and communications technology capable of linking schools instantly with law enforcement. None of these improvements were available to private schools under the existing rules. Critics argued that explaining the exclusion as a structural limitation obscured its real-world consequences—namely, that private school buildings, many of them a century old, lacked the modern tools needed to respond to or deter an armed intruder. Some community members openly wondered whether political discomfort about extending state funds to religious institutions played an indirect role, though state officials rejected that interpretation. Ultimately, the debate laid bare a broader national tension: the challenge of balancing constitutional boundaries, funding models, and the state’s responsibility to ensure equal safety for all children, regardless of where they receive their education.
In the weeks after the tragedy, Minnesotans revisited the 2023 letter with a mixture of sorrow, anger, and renewed urgency. A document that once read as a policy recommendation now appeared as an unheeded warning. Parents questioned why it failed to spur more decisive action, especially given the national context of rising school violence. Some wondered aloud whether earlier investments in security infrastructure could have prevented the attack or reduced its severity. Education advocates argued that the conversation about school safety should never have been framed as a competition between public and private institutions, nor as a debate over the legitimacy of religious education. Instead, they said, discussions should have centered on the practical realities facing nonpublic schools. Many operate in aging buildings with outdated entry systems, limited surveillance technology, and tight budgets that force administrators to choose between academic investments, student services, and costly safety upgrades. Unlike public school districts, private institutions cannot rely on mandated levies to fund major projects and must depend on tuition, donations, and fundraising—sources that fluctuate and cannot support large-scale security improvements without state assistance. This structural disparity, advocates argued, is fundamentally unjust, particularly when the state acknowledges its duty to safeguard all children. The Minneapolis shooting reignited the fundamental question at the center of the funding debate: does Minnesota’s current framework truly reflect its commitment to protecting every student, or does it permit gaps through which some communities inevitably fall?
As lawmakers, school leaders, parents, and grieving communities search for a path forward, many see the Minneapolis shooting as an inflection point—one that demands not only reflection but structural change. Advocates insist that Minnesota must adopt a more inclusive model for safety funding, one that recognizes that threats do not discriminate based on educational sector or funding source. They argue that programs financed through statewide appropriations—rather than local tax systems—should be expanded to include nonpublic schools, especially when the enhancements funded by those programs could determine whether a school is capable of deterring, surviving, or mitigating an attack. Some state legislators, moved by the tragedy and the resurfacing of the 2023 letter, have expressed willingness to revisit past decisions. Others remain cautious, citing legal questions or concerns about precedent. Meanwhile, parents across the state are calling for urgency rather than incrementalism, insisting that waiting for another tragedy would be morally indefensible. The voices of Adkins, Benz, the Catholic bishops, and many private school leaders echo louder now than they did in 2023: their warnings were not political maneuvers but attempts to fulfill their responsibility to the children, educators, and clergy in their care. As Minnesota debates its next steps, it now faces a pivotal and deeply consequential question—will the state finally redefine its school safety framework to ensure that all institutions, public or private, receive equal access to critical protective resources, or will longstanding structural barriers continue to leave thousands of students vulnerable? For many Minnesotans, the answer will not only shape future policy but will determine the public’s trust in the state’s commitment to safeguarding every child within its borders.
