When federal funding shrinks and reproductive rights hang in the balance, grassroots innovation often leads the way. In Minnesota, that innovation is embodied by the Women’s Foundation of Minnesota (WFMN), a 40-year-old philanthropic institution committed to gender and racial equity.
As political attacks on bodily autonomy escalate, WFMN has doubled down — launching new funding streams, elevating BIPOC-led health organizations, and grounding its work in the lived realities of women and gender-expansive people across the state.
“People really want to come together in community right now,” said Michelle Tran Maryns, vice president of innovation and strategic communications at the Foundation. “There’s been an uptick in people needing access to reproductive health care, and in response we launched our Reproductive Freedom Fund.”
Since its launch, the Fund has granted $250,000 to organizations like Gender Justice, We Health Clinic in Duluth, and The Aliveness Project. Unlike many restricted-use grants, $10,000 of each WFMN grant is specifically earmarked for staff wellness, providing an antidote to the burnout plaguing frontline reproductive health workers.
“There’s so much demand and not enough people to do all the work,” Maryns said. “We wanted to make sure nonprofit staff are taking care of themselves so they can continue to sustain the work.”
Though Minnesota has protected abortion rights under state law, access remains deeply unequal, particularly across race, income and geography. According to the Minnesota Department of Health:
Black and Native women are two to three times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than white women.
- Roughly 50% of Native women in Minnesota lack adequate prenatal care.
Rural counties, including large parts of Greater Minnesota, have no obstetric or abortion providers at all.
“Data shows us that communities of color often don’t have access to the services they need — like prenatal care, obstetric care or abortion,” Maryns said. “We use an intersectional equity lens when selecting grant partners. That means asking who’s being left out, and who’s leading the work.”
WFMN’s participatory grantmaking model involves community members in every funding decision. Applicants are evaluated not only for their services, but also for who leads them while prioritizing women, people of color, and queer leadership.
As many national nonprofits shift their language in response to right-wing backlash — avoiding terms like “Black,” “LGBTQ,” or “abortion” — WFMN has held firm.
“We’re very bold,” Maryns said. “We’re the Women’s Foundation of Minnesota. Our mission is to end systemic inequities and drive innovation for gender and racial justice. We want organizations to say they’re Black-led, or serving gender-expansive people.”
That clarity has helped WFMN remain independent. The foundation has never received government funding. Instead, it draws from a robust endowment, established in 1983 with the first million-dollar gift to any women’s foundation in the U.S., as well as donations from individuals, corporate sponsors, and private foundations.
This independence has become a lifeline in a time of legislative uncertainty. A 2025 draft budget leaked from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services proposed deep cuts to Medicaid and Title X, which would disproportionately impact low-income families, especially Black and brown communities in Minnesota.
“These policies have harmed a lot of the nonprofit work being done here,” Maryns said. “But because we’re community-funded, we’ve still been able to provide grants.”
Numerous studies confirm that people with control over their reproductive lives experience better mental health, higher lifetime earnings, and stronger family outcomes.
According to the Guttmacher Institute, a nonprofit chatbox that details up-to-date information about where and how one can get access to abortion care anywhere in the United States:
People denied abortion care are more likely to experience poverty years later.
Those who receive reproductive services report lower rates of anxiety and depression over time.
Communities with reproductive autonomy see greater maternal survival rates, educational attainment, and civic engagement.
“Reproductive justice is about the right to have children and raise them in safe communities, [or] not have children,” Maryns said. “And that’s only possible when people have full access to care, no matter who they are or where they live.”
WFMN recently hosted its inaugural Feminist Future Festival, a space for organizers, funders, and community members to dream up solutions in the face of fear and fatigue. Additional events, including the Leadership Celebration in October and Community Connects sessions in Rochester and across the state, aim to build stronger coalitions and share best practices.
“We’re not just reacting; we’re building the future we want to live in,” Maryns said.
That future includes plans to expand the Reproductive Freedom Fund into a permanent endowment. With a goal of raising enough to grant $300,000 annually, the Foundation hopes to sustain these efforts long after the news cycle moves on.
“This is just the beginning,” Maryns said. “We’re planting seeds so that no matter what happens at the federal level, Minnesotans — especially Black, brown, Native and immigrant women — can access the care they deserve.”
