Unlike the Costco Guys or Baby Gronk, Max Brunner isn't overly calculated with her social media strategizing. The template for Folks of Minnesota—a person-on-the-street mini biography series akin to Humans of New York—hasn't changed much since launching in early 2023: snap a portrait, spark a conversation, post the reliably humanizing results to the increasingly slop-infested, hate-fueled web.
Brunner's path to creating Folks of Minnesota started a few years back in St. Cloud, where she was working in assisted living with the Sisters of the Order of Saint Benedict. "The nuns became a part of my family," she says, and they shepherded her into the Catholic faith.
Working in healthcare during Covid wore on Brunner, affecting her mental health and general happiness. So she landed a new job with Independent Lifestyles, a nonprofit that helps disabled people, and eventually relocated to the Twin Ports. But before she left Stearns County, the nuns told her: "Go out and be Christ to other people."
Brunner would seize on that challenge after a couple "lonesome" months living in Superior, Wisconsin. "I was longing for community and human connection, so I started walking the streets with my camera; there was no real mission in my mind." Initially, Brunner struck up conversations with lots of unhoused folks, a community she says maintains a "special place" in her heart.
"They'd tell me their life stories. The first question I began to ask people was: What do you love about yourself?" she says. "It can be really challenging and difficult to answer that question."
The scope of Brunner's project widened to include people from all walks of life—basically anyone she'd bump into along Duluth's Superior Street. Folks of Minnesota has since documented over 500 subjects, most of them in and around the North Shore.
There's Tiffany, a formerly incarcerated mom who stressed to "not take your life for granted." There's Mia, a young hiker who journeyed over 200 miles from Duluth to Canada. There's Sean, who runs a nonprofit called Trans Northland. And that's just a tiny sampling from the past few months.
Brunner says there's often a little trepidation from folks who are approached with a camera, but that tends to melt away as they warm up to the one-on-one conversation. Eventually, she'd like to share stories from rural communities and other cities around Minnesota.
While the Folks of Minnesota channels have grown—Facebook, Instagram, TikTok—Brunner isn't a scheming wannabe influencer. (We're looking at you, Baby Gronk.) She says she wasn't inspired by Humans of New York, and there's no charted course for online growth. She doesn't even want to be on social media!
"I try to stay off it as much as possible; I just created accounts to post to Folks of Minnesota," she says. For Brunner, the project provides a sense of validation much deeper than likes, faves, and clicks.
"It has created healing within myself, and it gives me hope," she says. "If these stories of people could evoke a little more kindness and compassion in the viewer, to break down their own stigma or judgement of people? I'd love that."
