Bridging the Opportunity Gap: The Critical Role and Uncertain Future of Minneapolis Step Up
MINNEAPOLIS — For Jordan Dotson, the distance between Minneapolis’ North Side and the corporate headquarters of Best Buy cannot be measured merely in miles or the two city buses she boarded every morning as a teenager. It is a distance measured in "social capital"—the invisible network of connections, professional norms, and institutional confidence that often separates the working class from the C-suite.
Today, the 25-year-old Dotson serves as an environmental compliance manager for the Fortune 500 retailer, a role she stepped into full-time in 2023. Her trajectory from a standout graduate of Minneapolis South High School to a corporate professional is a testament to the Minneapolis Step Up program, a city-led initiative designed to bridge the gap between talented youth from underrepresented backgrounds and the region’s largest employers.
However, as Dotson’s career takes flight, the program that launched her is facing a turbulent headwind. Despite two decades of success stories, Step Up is grappling with a significant decline in employer participation, a shift that threatens the future pipeline of Minnesota’s workforce at a time when the state’s demographic survival depends on the very students the program serves.
Main Facts: A Pipeline Under Pressure
The Minneapolis Step Up program, alongside its St. Paul counterpart, Right Track, functions as a workforce intermediary. It recruits teenagers from lower-income households—disproportionately students of color—and provides them with a rigorous gauntlet of work-readiness training, including mock interviews, resume building, and professional etiquette. Those who complete the training are matched with paid summer internships at private corporations, non-profits, and government agencies.
Since its inception, the program has been a cornerstone of the Twin Cities’ efforts to combat racial and economic disparities. Yet, the numbers reveal a concerning trend:
- Participation Decline: At its peak in 2011, Step Up employed a record 2,325 teenagers. By the summer of 2024, that number had plummeted to 1,250.
- High Demand, Low Supply: The program currently sees two applicants for every available internship slot, leaving hundreds of motivated students without a placement.
- Economic Stakes: The Minnesota Department of Employment and Economic Development (DEED) notes that virtually all of the state’s labor force growth since the early 2000s has come from populations of color and immigrants.
For success stories like Dotson, the program was more than a summer job; it was an immersion. "It was a little jarring at 15 or 16 to prepare for an interview at a Fortune 500 company," Dotson recalled. "The internship helped me with networking and to start feeling that I belonged. I was one of only a few women and people of color on our team. Best Buy now feels like a good place for me. I’m encouraged to grow."
Chronology: From Visionary Launch to Post-Pandemic Slump
The Architect Years (2003–2011)
Step Up was born in 2003 out of a rare alignment between civic leadership and private-sector urgency. Then-Mayor R.T. Rybak and former U.S. Bancorp CEO Richard Davis recognized that the "Minnesota Miracle"—the state’s reputation for high quality of life and economic stability—was at risk if the growing achievement gap was not addressed through direct economic intervention.
Davis, who began his own career as a part-time bank teller, became the program’s primary cheerleader in the business community. Under this leadership, the program scaled rapidly, reaching its zenith in 2011. During this era, Step Up was lauded nationally as a model for how municipal governments could partner with the private sector to create "career runways" for youth who lacked traditional professional connections.
The Era of Transformation (2012–2019)
Over the next decade, the program matured, having served 36,000 teenagers by the mid-2020s. It evolved from simple summer jobs to sophisticated career exploration. Interns began earning competitive wages—currently up to $16.50 per hour—and were paired with long-term mentors. For Jordan Dotson, this period was defined by her relationship with Mary Thomas, a Best Buy attorney who mentored Dotson through high school and college, eventually becoming a colleague.
The Post-Pandemic Fracture (2020–Present)
The decline in participation began in earnest following the COVID-19 pandemic. The rapid shift to remote and hybrid work models fundamentally altered the "internship" experience. Many managers, struggling with their own burnout and the complexities of managing remote teams, felt they could no longer provide the hands-on guidance a 16-year-old requires.
By 2025, the budget for Step Up stood at $3.75 million, funded by 85 wage-paying employers alongside government support. However, the number of interns (1,385 in 2025) continued to track significantly lower than pre-pandemic levels, even as teen unemployment in Minnesota began to climb.
Supporting Data: The Widening Employment Gap
The urgency of the Step Up program is underscored by increasingly grim labor market data for Minnesota’s youth. Angelina Nguyen, director of labor market information at DEED, points to a sharp rise in teen unemployment that suggests a tightening market for entry-level roles.
- Rising Unemployment: Teen unemployment in Minnesota jumped from 7.9% in the spring of 2025 to 13.5% by May of the following year.
- Racial Disparity: Unemployment rates among Black Minnesotans remain consistently higher than the state average, a trend that is mirrored in the youth demographic.
- The Experience Trap: "Teens are competing with older, more experienced workers in this economy," Nguyen explained. "There aren’t as many openings as possible, and it takes longer to find a job."
Historically, teenagers found their footing in retail, fast food, and entertainment. However, these sectors have seen a contraction in openings over the last 12 months. This "experience gap" is where Step Up is most needed, yet where it is currently most constrained.

Official Responses: Corporate Caution and Political Headwinds
Program administrators and labor analysts cite several complex factors for the retreat of corporate partners.
The "Remote Work" Barrier
Tammy Dickinson, the long-time manager of Step Up, noted that the lack of physical presence in offices is a primary deterrent. Mentorship—a core component of the program—is difficult to facilitate via Zoom. When managers are not in the office, they are less likely to "take a chance" on a high school student who requires high-touch supervision.
Economic and Political Uncertainty
Labor market analysts also point to broader anxieties. Businesses are adjusting to economic uncertainty exacerbated by fluctuating federal policies and the mercurial nature of the political landscape. Furthermore, some employers have expressed private caution regarding diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives. Under pressure from political movements seeking to de-emphasize race-conscious hiring, some corporations have scaled back programs that specifically target students of color to avoid becoming "political targets."
The AI Factor
The looming shadow of Artificial Intelligence has also slowed hiring. As companies evaluate which entry-level tasks can be automated, they are pausing the expansion of internship programs until the future of "junior-level work" becomes clearer.
Despite these challenges, Dickinson remains optimistic, calling on the healthcare sector to fill the void. "Healthcare is where we see the strongest demand," she said. "Entry-level jobs like personal care and nursing assistants can lead to better-paid jobs in nursing and medical technology. We hope more healthcare employers step up next year, knowing they will be training their future workforce."
Implications: The High Cost of Disconnection
The success of Step Up is not just measured in corporate placements, but in the radical transformation of life trajectories. The stories of Mike Archer and Jorge Estudillo Castillo illustrate the long-term ROI of early professional intervention.
From Park Maintenance to Six-Figure Trades
Mike Archer, 27, grew up in a low-income household led by a single mother with a disability. His first Step Up job involved picking up litter in a local park for $7.24 an hour. While the work was humble, the impact was profound.
"I wasn’t just running around the neighborhood," Archer said. "I became responsible. I bought my own first phone and some clothes. My mom made only $14,000 a year; my job gave her a break."
That early taste of responsibility led Archer to Dunwoody Technical College. Today, he is a journeyman electrician and foreman earning $63 an hour. "I’ll make over $100,000 this year. I own a home. I’m blessed," he said. Without that first $7-an-hour job, Archer admits he might have succumbed to the "negative influences" of his neighborhood.
Building Generational Social Capital
At a U.S. Bank branch on East Lake Street, manager Rene Madrid—an immigrant from El Salvador—continues to champion the program. He has mentored over 50 interns since 2010. One of his current bankers, 22-year-old Jorge Estudillo Castillo, started as an intern while attending Cristo Rey High School.
"Some of the interns like banking and some do not," Madrid said. "But they all learn about our business, customer relationships, making professional connections, personal finance, credit, and savings. That’s good for all their futures."
The Economic Conclusion
If programs like Step Up continue to shrink, the implications for Minnesota’s economy are severe. As the "Baby Boomer" generation retires, the state faces a massive labor shortage. If the "next generation"—which is increasingly diverse—is not integrated into the professional and technical workforce, the state’s economic growth will stagnate.
The "Step Up" model proves that the "achievement gap" is often an "opportunity gap." As Jordan Dotson, Mike Archer, and Jorge Estudillo Castillo have shown, when the gap is bridged, the result is not just a job—it is a stable, tax-paying, home-owning middle class that secures the future of the region. The question remains whether the Twin Cities’ business community will reinvest in that bridge before it narrows further.