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When we see public figures, we rarely see the human being. We see a policy, a headline, a viral moment. What we don’t often glimpse is the person—the father fixing his daughter’s tiara, the husband leaning on his wife, the runner who finds peace by railroad tracks after a long day.
In my recent Rise to More conversation with Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey, I set aside politics entirely. I wanted to know the man behind the title.
We live in polarized times. Outrage is the easiest currency to spend. Nuance is rare, compassion rarer. So I wanted to create a different kind of room. A room where we listen for humanity, not ammo. Where we remember we’re far more alike than different. And where transformation—individual and collective—still feels possible.
What unfolded was a raw and deeply human conversation about fatherhood, resilience, and the quiet costs of leadership.
Jacob spoke openly about being a father of two young girls and how they changed everything: the way he values time, the city he hopes to shape, the example he wants to set.
We don’t talk enough about the toll of being known. The loss of breath and private space. The reality that when he steps outside, he is “the mayor” within seconds—no matter if he’s running alone by the railroad tracks or holding his four-year-old’s hand.
He also spoke of hardship—moments when he stood firm in his decisions, was publicly shamed, and yet slept peacefully knowing he had done what he believed was right. From those experiences, he described something profound: post-traumatic growth—the ability to not just endure crisis, but to grow from it.
We talked about the echo chambers, the easy blame, the brittle certainty. He said something simple and brave: when we’re unhappy, it’s seductive to assign our pain to an “other.” It’s also the beginning of dehumanization.
The antidote? Burst your bubble on purpose. Seek people who think, pray, vote, and work differently than you. Have coffee. Share stories. Discover you actually like each other. It’s not naive—it’s necessary. Our nervous systems heal in proximity, not in posts.
Topics we covered in this episode:
* The perspective shift of fatherhood and raising daughters
* How resilience is built in crisis and why “post-traumatic growth” matters
* Running as both meditation and emotional release
* Jewish tradition and the teaching of the “36 righteous people”
* Keeping a soft heart in a hard, polarized world
* His personal mantra: Find a way—to lead, to serve, to keep moving forward
* What greatness and legacy mean to him
What I found most moving was Jacob’s candor. He admitted flaws. He spoke of the weight of criticism, the freedom of authenticity, and the small, grounding rituals that keep him human.
In the end, this wasn’t an interview about a mayor. It was a conversation with a man navigating the complexity of public life while striving to remain whole.
And perhaps that is the lesson for us all: whatever our role, we must find a way. To love, to lead, to soften, to rise. And for the love of God, to see humanity in one another regardless of our differences.
Please watch, listen or share.
With gratitude,
Jasna
Thanks for reading! This post is public so feel free to share it.
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4444 ratings
When we see public figures, we rarely see the human being. We see a policy, a headline, a viral moment. What we don’t often glimpse is the person—the father fixing his daughter’s tiara, the husband leaning on his wife, the runner who finds peace by railroad tracks after a long day.
In my recent Rise to More conversation with Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey, I set aside politics entirely. I wanted to know the man behind the title.
We live in polarized times. Outrage is the easiest currency to spend. Nuance is rare, compassion rarer. So I wanted to create a different kind of room. A room where we listen for humanity, not ammo. Where we remember we’re far more alike than different. And where transformation—individual and collective—still feels possible.
What unfolded was a raw and deeply human conversation about fatherhood, resilience, and the quiet costs of leadership.
Jacob spoke openly about being a father of two young girls and how they changed everything: the way he values time, the city he hopes to shape, the example he wants to set.
We don’t talk enough about the toll of being known. The loss of breath and private space. The reality that when he steps outside, he is “the mayor” within seconds—no matter if he’s running alone by the railroad tracks or holding his four-year-old’s hand.
He also spoke of hardship—moments when he stood firm in his decisions, was publicly shamed, and yet slept peacefully knowing he had done what he believed was right. From those experiences, he described something profound: post-traumatic growth—the ability to not just endure crisis, but to grow from it.
We talked about the echo chambers, the easy blame, the brittle certainty. He said something simple and brave: when we’re unhappy, it’s seductive to assign our pain to an “other.” It’s also the beginning of dehumanization.
The antidote? Burst your bubble on purpose. Seek people who think, pray, vote, and work differently than you. Have coffee. Share stories. Discover you actually like each other. It’s not naive—it’s necessary. Our nervous systems heal in proximity, not in posts.
Topics we covered in this episode:
* The perspective shift of fatherhood and raising daughters
* How resilience is built in crisis and why “post-traumatic growth” matters
* Running as both meditation and emotional release
* Jewish tradition and the teaching of the “36 righteous people”
* Keeping a soft heart in a hard, polarized world
* His personal mantra: Find a way—to lead, to serve, to keep moving forward
* What greatness and legacy mean to him
What I found most moving was Jacob’s candor. He admitted flaws. He spoke of the weight of criticism, the freedom of authenticity, and the small, grounding rituals that keep him human.
In the end, this wasn’t an interview about a mayor. It was a conversation with a man navigating the complexity of public life while striving to remain whole.
And perhaps that is the lesson for us all: whatever our role, we must find a way. To love, to lead, to soften, to rise. And for the love of God, to see humanity in one another regardless of our differences.
Please watch, listen or share.
With gratitude,
Jasna
Thanks for reading! This post is public so feel free to share it.
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