Alicia Stone and Brennen Cullins: Tough conversations prompt action in Marshall

A son leans into his mother.
Alicia Stone was one of the organizers of a demonstration in Marshall, Minn., calling for systemic change to end racism. Her 12-year-old son, Brennen Cullins, spoke at the June 3 demonstration.
Christine T. Nguyen | MPR News

Protests large and small have emerged across Minnesota since the police killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis.

MPR News is talking to some of the people behind rallies, marches and demonstrations happening beyond the Twin Cities metro area — about their experiences with race in Minnesota, why they march and what they hope for the future. See and hear all of the conversations here.


Posted: Feb. 16, 2021 | Aired: June 29, 2020

Early this summer, Alicia Stone had to sit her children down, and explain to them how George Floyd died — and what that meant for them. 

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It was a conversation, Stone said, she wished she didn’t have to have. 

“I had to bring back a lot of attention to my 12-year-old,” she said. “He’s growing up. It was kind of hard for me to talk to him about it, because I have never experienced certain things that Black people have had to go through.”

This summer, she said, she had to have The Talk with her 12-year-old, Brennen Cullins.

“I had to just tell him that … we’re all the same,” she said. “And whatever the police officers or anyone who has authority tells you to do, you just do it. That was a hard pill for him to swallow.”

Floyd’s death resonated deeply for Stone, 35, who is white. Her children, including her three biracial sons, have been subjected to microaggressions and prejudice — even from friends and family.

It wasn’t long after seeing the protests in the Twin Cities after George Floyd’s death that she realized she should organize a demonstration, Stone said. She had to speak up for them regardless of how her community would react.

“I have to be their voice,” she said. “They can’t stand up for themselves right now, and we need to make change. We all do. We all bleed the same. We are the same. … We just need to be the change, and if we don’t have a voice to speak up, then who’s going to speak up for our children and our future?”

Through Facebook, Stone connected with Jess Dressen, 36, who lives in nearby Canby. Dressen, originally from the St. Cloud area, was searching for people in her area to help organize a demonstration after seeing protests unfold in the Twin Cities. 

The two organized a solidarity march and protest in Marshall on June 3, less than a week after Floyd was killed. They estimate about 200 people showed up. They had only anticipated about 100.

Dressen and Stone hadn’t been sure what to expect, but what they saw, they said, was beautiful. They’d contacted the city’s police department ahead of time, and said they were “supported” in their effort. The local Speedway gas station offered cold water to demonstrators.

“We saw all age groups there,” Stone said. “They’re young, from little ones all the way up to, I’d say, a lady had to be close to her 70’s, if not 80’s sitting in a wheelchair with her sign. It was great to see that.”

The crowd marched down College Drive, down Main Street to Bruce Street and back twice. They spoke out against racism and police brutality and demanded justice in Floyd’s death. People knelt down at the corner near Memorial Park, where attendees spoke. 

One of the speakers was Stone’s 12-year-old son. 

Brennen said, as a biracial kid in Marshall, he’s struggled with his identity, feeling targeted by the prejudice of others. It made him feel less worthy of being loved, he said.

“In school, it’s kind of different, because there’s a lot of white kids and sometimes I tell my mom, if I was white, I’d have a whole bunch of more friends,” he said.

It’s a stark contrast to what he experiences when he visits family near the Twin Cities, he said.

“When I go there, I see a lot of people my color and then I kind of feel comfortable,” he said. “And so, I put my head high and I just walk around normally.”

But during the days of protest in Marshall, he said, he found himself feeling “normal,” surrounded by diverse groups of people. For once, he didn’t feel alienated and felt at ease with the people around him, standing up for the city’s Black community.

Cullins found his voice that day, in front of the demonstrators, he said. He read aloud from a speech he had written. 

“Are you black, white, Mexican or Asian?” He read. “Where are you from? What are you? Is your dad in the picture? No matter what your answer is, it’s always wrong. The questions are offensive. I’m proud of being a biracial child. I have a black dad and a white mom. I’m proud of that. Embrace yourself. Love yourself. And always hold your head up high. Only God can judge us.”

The next evening, about 50 people gathered to kneel and remember George Floyd.

Marshall’s demonstrations happened within the first few days of protests unfolding across Minnesota and nationwide. Residents came together and created a public collection of art that was on display in a parking lot near East College Drive. But in mid-June, the display was defaced with blue spray paint, according to local news reports. 

And while they saw a lot of community support, Stone and Dressen said they met some resistance, too. Some downtown businesses closed early one night when a demonstration was planned — equating the city’s peaceful protests with the unrest that had been occurring in Minneapolis that month.

“We had a lot of people starting rumors about that and then saying, ‘Why is someone having a protest in small town Marshall?’” Stone said. “It kind of caught us off guard a little bit, because we tried to make this as peaceful as we could.”

Dressen said the demonstrations, popping up in small towns here in western Minnesota and across the state, made it apparent: Silence meant complicity. 

“I can’t sit back and let that happen to somebody, regardless if I know them or not and be OK with it,” Dressen said. “This has to be something that we do to change and whether that was doing a march and getting the word out there or doing something to make people aware. ...this is something that we need to change.”

Editor’s note (Feb. 16, 2021): This story originally aired in June 2020 as part of MPR News’ Voices of Minnesota: Calls for Change series.