
Photo courtesy of Tellem Grody PR
Halima Aden
Halima Aden’s had a big year. The former Somali refugee-turned-Minnesotan-turned-international model recently graced the cover of Elle magazine, filmed a documentary with Al Jazeera Witness, modeled Max Mara’s Capsule collection in Dubai—and turned 21 years old. In a year (and lifetime, really) of breaking down barriers and becoming the person she needed represented in media when she was just a young girl living in St. Cloud, she hasn’t lost an ounce of her spark or humility—which she proved at Tuesday night’s Hello Sunshine x Together Live panel discussion at the Pantages Theatre.
Together Live is a touring event produced by Hello Sunshine, Reese Witherspoon’s media company. The discussion series features a rotating cast of intersectional, intergenerational women who share their own personal stories of growth and trials and tribulations. The exact list of speakers depends on the location; Minneapolis’s roster included actress Sophia Bush, singer CAM, journalist Maytha Alhassen, author Luvvie Ajayi, comedian and writer Sabrina Jalees, author and Thrive Labs founder Priya Parker, life coach and yoga teacher Ryan Weiss, and our own Halima Aden.
Not to have a Minnesota bias (although, come on), but Aden’s portion was one of the most poignant and moving parts of the night. Event founder and host Jennifer Rudolph Walsh interviewed Aden about her early years in a Kenyan refugee camp, her experience being the first woman to wear a burkini and hijab in the Miss Minnesota pageant, and what it’s like to make a career out of breaking down barriers for girls who look like her. She kept her ever-present grace and composure through the interview and only teared up when she talked about her fear of disappointing her mother, who didn’t originally support her modeling dream. “My mom never let [my family and I] see ourselves as victims,” she said at the event. “It was the opposite: She taught us hope.”
I’ll be honest—some parts of the three-hour event felt a little cheesy, like a corporate bonding event or a campfire heart-to-heart at summer camp. It involved a lot of finger-snapping and “mmhmmms” and mantras that proliferate in self-help books. But the thing is, it seemed to work. Maybe, in this strange time we’re in, we’re getting hungry for connections—with our friends, with these celebrities, with total strangers. For every eye-roll I stifled (and there were a few), there were cheers and murmurs of affirmation. Maybe the parts I resonated with were the ones that made others tune out. And maybe that’s the point—to connect us all in different ways, but to connect us all nonetheless.
Goodness, now who’s the cheesy one?