In this conversation, Yoga Love Magazine Digital Editor, Melissa Honkanen speaks with Lucia Yess, founder of Yess Yoga in Minneapolis, about what it means to practice yoga in a moment of state violence, prolonged fear, and deep exhaustion, and why studios are becoming unlikely sanctuaries of collective care. Their dialogue explores how somatic grounding, mutual aid, and nonviolent resistance are converging, revealing a community that is not only enduring, but actively caring for one another with intention, dignity, and resolve.

Melissa: Yess Yoga is located near Eat Street on Nicollet Avenue, an area known for dozens of local and international restaurants. Minnesotans especially love Glam Doll Donuts, and Alex Pretti was murdered directly across the street from that business. Can you walk us through what happened that day?

Lucia: Saturdays are usually our busiest days. We had an 8:30 a.m. class, and the shooting happened during that class. The teacher is actually recorded during śavāsana saying, “Oh no, oh no, oh no…” That’s when we began realizing something was very wrong.

Melissa: How did you first get alerted? Was it through a community Signal group?

Lucia: Yes, some people are part of those groups. One of our teachers who also helps coordinate mutual aid works as a street medic. She has a public health master’s degree and works for the American Heart Association. She texted me at 9:22 a.m. and said, “There’s been a shooting outside the studio.” The incident was not going to play out well. My husband is a physician at Hennepin County Medical Center, and our neighbors across the street are emergency doctors. I texted them to confirm, and they said yes, and that we should cancel classes immediately.

So I went into response mode making sure the 8:30 class got out safely. The 10 a.m. teacher was already at the studio and aware by then, because ICE had surrounded the area. We coordinated quickly with our studio manager Elisabeth, the teacher Victoria, and Claire, the street medic, to keep the space open for shelter. It was about negative ten degrees. Brutally cold.

Melissa: I grew up in northern Minnesota, so I know how dangerous that kind of cold can be especially for people outside protesting.

Lucia: Exactly. It’s that kind of cold where if you touch metal without gloves, it burns. We closed classes for the day but kept the studio open so people could shelter and warm up.

Claire was flushing people’s eyes because of tear gas. ICE had surrounded the building. People couldn’t leave and we were effectively trapped. They roped off our entrance and stood shoulder to shoulder across 26th Street. Tear gas and rubber bullets were being used, and this was all before 10 a.m.

Around 2 p.m., ICE told us we had a window to evacuate, and that’s when people were finally able to leave.

Melissa: How has your yoga community been affected, emotionally and practically, since the fatal shooting of Alex Pretti?

Lucia: It’s Alex, and it’s also Renee Good, who was killed less than two miles from us in South Minneapolis. This has been a concentrated ICE presence for months.

Melissa: Yes, my friends live in Powderhorn Park, and I have former colleagues in Whittier. Those neighborhoods sit right at the center of where both shootings occurred.

Lucia: I’m glad people outside Minnesota are paying attention. When I walk past Alex Pretti’s memorial, which I do daily on my way to the studio, there are international news crews there all the time. Someone is speaking a different language every visit. It’s important to document government violence when it happens.

“I’m glad people outside Minnesota are paying attention. When I walk past Alex Pretti’s memorial, which I do daily on my way to the studio, there are international news crews there all the time. Someone is speaking a different language every visit. It’s important to document government violence when it happens.”

What many people don’t realize is that this organizing didn’t start with the shootings. Communities here have been mobilizing since early December by driving kids to school, delivering food, supporting families who are sheltering in place. The shootings are shocking and deeply dysregulating for our nervous systems, but the exhaustion comes from the length of this occupation. It’s been months.

People are spending their extra time and money supporting families who can’t work because someone has been detained. Rent assistance, food, childcare, it’s unsustainable without broader support. A yoga studio in Rhode Island sent us $1,000, and I cried. People here are donating $25 at a time, the equivalent of a drop-in class. That generosity adds up, but it’s heavy.

A yoga studio in Rhode Island sent us $1,000, and I cried. People here are donating $25 at a time, the equivalent of a drop-in class. That generosity adds up, but it’s heavy.

Our goal is to acknowledge that people are tired, scared, and still giving. We want the studio to be a place of respite because this work has to align with our morals and values.

Melissa: I spoke with friends in the Twin Cities this week, and the exhaustion was visible the moment we got on Zoom. Have you noticed changes in attendance or class dynamics?

Lucia: Attendance hasn’t changed dramatically. People still come especially during hardship. Yoga isn’t just asana; it’s a way of living. Action itself can be therapeutic. What has changed is the depth of conversation. The themes before and after class are unmistakably about this moment. ICE sightings near schools. Journalists who witnessed the shooting needed trauma care. We’re constantly sharing resources like EMDR therapists, reiki practitioners. This occupation is pervasive. It touches every conversation.

Melissa: Has the studio taken a public stance?

Lucia: Yes. We closed during both strikes and have been doing mutual aid for over a month. Our focus is healthcare supporting people who are missing preventive care or are afraid to seek medical treatment. We’ve partnered publicly with clinics, therapists, and organizers. We’ve hosted a free reiki restorative workshop, watercoloring and mindfulness, and community acupuncture. Our wellness wing has become a hub. Practitioners are donating their time. The street medic who helped flush eyes organized much of this care.

What’s happening in Minneapolis is a living example of collective care. Journalists, healers, demonstrators, parents, neighbors, it’s a mycelium network. Grassroots and deeply human. Yoga studios can play a real role here: offering space for people to feel, process, and regulate so they can return to action sustainably.

What’s happening in Minneapolis is a living example of collective care. Journalists, healers, demonstrators, parents, neighbors, it’s a mycelium network. Grassroots and deeply human. Yoga studios can play a real role here: offering space for people to feel, process, and regulate so they can return to action sustainably.

Melissa: I’m now based in Atlanta, the birthplace of the Civil Rights Movement. Many people here say what’s happening in Minnesota isn’t unprecedented, it’s something many other communities have endured for decades. How is that being discussed?

Lucia: People absolutely acknowledge that. After George Floyd’s murder and centuries of state violence, this isn’t new. What feels especially alarming is that Alex was a white person helping someone out of a snowbank when he was killed. It’s unsettling, but it’s also not the first time people have warned us.

The real question is: Is this the moment when more people say  “This is not how I want my tax dollars spent. This is not safe.” Do we finally change systems or slip back into a status quo where some people have proximity to safety and others.

Melissa: I recently saw a political cartoon depicting ICE agents raising the old Minnesota flag in a formation resembling the WWII Iwo Jima photo, while the new Minnesota flag, designed to remove colonial imagery, lay on the ground. It was powerful commentary. What advice would you give yoga students who want to be supportive without appropriating lived experience?

Lucia: The heart of yoga is learning how to be in community often with strangers. In studios, we practice what it feels like to be safe in our bodies: closing our eyes, softening vigilance, checking in. That safety is not universal. The question becomes: Is it okay that some people don’t feel safe simply existing?

Practices like brahmacharya remind us there is enough that we don’t need to hoard safety for ourselves. Yoga can help us advocate for bodily safety and dignity for everyone. These spaces shouldn’t be about escapism. They should help us align with liberation for ourselves and others. That’s a call to studios and teachers: make sure people feel safe right now. Truly welcome. Truly inclusive.

Practices like brahmacharya remind us there is enough that we don’t need to hoard safety for ourselves. Yoga can help us advocate for bodily safety and dignity for everyone. These spaces shouldn’t be about escapism. They should help us align with liberation for ourselves and others. That’s a call to studios and teachers: make sure people feel safe right now. Truly welcome. Truly inclusive.

Melissa: What else would you like our readers to understand about what is happening in Minneapolis right now?

Lucia: Minneapolis is caring for each other deeply and doing so with joy. There is singing, movement, and dancing. People are feeding one another, inviting neighbors over for game night, creating warmth wherever they can. There are tears, yes, but more often they are tears of love and connection than of fear.

I think that’s important to name. What’s happening here isn’t violence. People are protesting while singing. They are resisting while caring for one another. They are grieving and organizing at the same time. And that joy, rooted in community, is part of how we are surviving this moment together.

Learn more about YESS yoga and support their community work