COMMENTARY: What it means to have my Minnesota legislation pass as a high school student

Maitreya Reeder
Like the rest of Minnesota, I will never forget the events of the 2025 state legislative session: the first partisan split in the House since 1979; the session started with a vacated seat; a three-week DFL boycott over quorum agreements; a special election date denied by the state Supreme Court. It ended with the horrific political assassination of House Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman and her husband.
But I will also remember this year for another reason. Despite being a junior in high school, I was able to convince legislators to pass my own piece of legislation, during one of the most unstable sessions in Minnesota political history.
The bill, later informally referred to as the “Students Committed to Overdose Prevention and Education (SCOPE) Proposal,” outlined the addition of naloxone administration training to middle and high school health classes, and was focused on overdose recognition, prevention, and response curriculum. I have been passionate about this topic for as long as I can remember, seeing addiction ravage the lives of family and friends.
What started as nothing more than a pipe dream — a law I believed in, but didn’t yet believe was possible — turned into a real piece of legislation through months of hard work, collaboration, and learning.
In November of 2024, I was invited, by another friend also interested in public policy, to the Catalyst for Systems Change (CSC) 2nd Annual Changemakers event for youth. Targeted towards expanding young influence in politics, the event brought together more than 65 high schoolers from across the state. We were invited us to share causes we felt passionate about. These topics would be identified, voted on by attendees to decide which should be prioritized by the CSC, and turned, with hard work, into bills. I pitched my idea to a full room of youth, legislators, and volunteers. It ended up being the concept that got the most votes that day.
Through a six-month process of countless meetings, emails, calls, newspaper articles, and visits to the Capitol with CSC director Khalique Rogers and other youth, the bill progressed through the legislative system with bipartisan support.
There’s something profound about learning in an environment so authentic. I knew how laws were made, but I never knew how much truly went into the creation of legislation until I participated.
We brought together a coalition of medical doctors, community members, and other youth who attended the Changemakers event. Overdose prevention advocates and nonprofits, such as the Steve Rummler HOPE Foundation, supported us in crafting bill language and testimony. I pushed the bill to committees, finding Senator Steve Cwodzinski (D-49, who represents Eden Prairie and Minnetonka) at the Minnesota Civic Seal effort legislative breakfast. I stood awkwardly in a corner with him as I spoke with a staffer on his phone, asking for SF2234 to be put on the docket.
I testified in the House Education Policy committee in front of my own representative, Sydney Jordan (D-60A), and gathered written testimonies from peers.
On April 30th, I watched from the galley as HF2023 passed unanimously before the House. Its Senate counterpart had passed the week before. Due to the lost time at the beginning of session, because of the three-week boycott, a Special Session was necessary; my bill needed to be voted on one last time, in the K-12 Education omnibus bill.
On June 9th, I spent six hours at the State Capitol waiting and watching as the House crawled towards Education on the docket. I wanted to be there to see it. And it passed. I still hold the paper version of the roll call.
To think I watched Melissa Hortman participate in the legislature for the last time, on the day I saw my own life’s work come to fruition, is to make my sense of accomplishment also a bitter reminder of why I feel the need to join the political world — to make it a better, safer place. I am eternally grateful for Rep. Hortman’s contribution to helping me achieve my first legislative goal.
I learned that you do not need to be a politician, a businessperson, or an official to make your voice heard. If you do not have that type of status, and are not even old enough to vote, that does not mean you do not have power.
That’s the beautiful thing about democracy. If you truly care about something, you have the ability to make change through public testimony. Minnesotans can find bills they are passionate about on the legislature website, and express their viewpoints.
In a session defined by unrest and uncertainty, the passage of my bill wasn’t just a singular victory. It was a testament to the power young people have, and the power held by all citizens who decide to step up, speak up, and make a difference.
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For 2025 coverage, Minnesota Women’s Press earned a community leadership award, three photography awards, and four editorial awards, including for coverage of social issues and for our Spring 2025 “Know Your Rights” special section supported by Unidos MN. Our publisher was named Journalist of the Year by Violence Free Minnesota for gender-based violence coverage.