By Maria Toso

I love downtown St. Paul. But let’s be honest: it’s in bad, bad shape — like a beautiful old stage set abandoned after the final curtain.

Sometime this past fall, I went to meet a friend who still keeps an office in one of the bank buildings. I walked through eerily silent hallways. Every office I passed was dark and empty — except his, a cool corner space with the best office view I’ve ever seen. It felt like a scene from a dystopian film, like some invisible disaster had swept through and cleared out all life.

But I remember when it wasn’t like this.

The first time I visited St. Paul was in 1994. I was still living in Copenhagen, Denmark, and came to see my high school exchange-year friend, Reena, who had moved here from Texas. She was living downtown in a sweet condo with her fiancé, near a park. I remember the street-level cafés, the shops in the skyways, even a department store. And during the lunch hour, the streets were vibrant — almost European in their rhythm.

That trip was how I was first introduced to Minnesota. I met relatives I’d never known before. They introduced me to my future husband, and four years later I moved to Minnesota at age 27. St. Paul became home.

Even after returning to Europe for two years to help my mother through her final chapter, I came back — because I love it here.

I grew up in Copenhagen, one of the most walkable, people-centered cities in the world. Tourists travel across oceans to experience its beauty and livability. And I believe — with the right vision — we could create something just as special right here in downtown St. Paul.

We already have the bones for it. I’ve always loved the Landmark Center square by Rice Park. Mears Park, The Saint Paul Farmers’ Market is still the most iconic and charming market I’ve seen — even compared to those in Europe. The surrounding cafés and bars used to buzz with life. Now, most have vanished.

For years, I was a member of the Saint Paul Athletic Club, housed on Cedar Street in a stunning 1920s-era building with vaulted ceilings and ornate details. Last I heard, it had gone up for auction. That building — like so many others — is just sitting there. Waiting. Wasting.

And here’s the hard truth: It’s a disgrace that our capital city, the symbolic heart of Minnesota, is now a place you’d avoid bringing out-of-town guests. We must do better.

City insiders acknowledge the problems. Madison Equities, which now owns a massive share of downtown property, has been called “a cancer” for the city — acquiring buildings while others bailed, only to let them sit in neglect. For years, city leaders looked the other way, hoping things would self-correct.

They didn’t.

Thankfully, it feels like we may be hitting bottom and starting to rebuild. Office-to-housing conversions are underway, including Landmark Towers, which officially reopens this month as apartments. But real estate professionals remind us: Conversions are expensive and only feasible for buildings with the right dimensions. Incentives like the new CUB tax credit can help, but it won’t be enough on its own. And we can’t just convert office buildings — we need to cultivate a culture. We need people. Residents. Artists. Students. Entrepreneurs. We need density, yes, but also soul and presence.

Let me remind you of something we did once before: around 25 years ago, certain homes along Selby Avenue were sold for one dollar. The catch? You had to live there and fix up your Victorian. People did. They showed up. They invested. Today, that area is one of the city’s most walkable and beloved neighborhoods.

So why not do something similar downtown?

What if the city or state purchased long-vacant buildings and turned them into deeply affordable housing for people under 30? Not a free-for-all, but an application-based program that vets for vision, diversity and community-mindedness. People who want to stay. Who want to plant roots and shape the neighborhood.

Offer these same young creatives ultra-low rent on street-level spaces to open cafés, yoga studios, vintage shops, bookstores, and pop-up galleries. And give them a path to ownership — let them buy into these buildings at ultra-low rates, as long as they agree to live and contribute there for a set number of years.

This isn’t just about real estate. It’s about culture, equity and livability. We don’t need to turn St. Paul into a mini-Minneapolis or a corporate hub — we can become something more human-scale, local, and uniquely alive.

Because right now it feels like downtown is being held hostage by vacancy and the wrong property owners.

But the bones are good. The opportunity is real. And we’ve done this before. We need the courage to bet on people’s presence, creativity, entrepreneurships again — then the business will follow.

Maria Toso is a yoga educator, writer and emotional healing coach, originally from Copenhagen, Denmark. She moved to Minnesota in 1998 and now calls St. Paul home. Maria teaches the Yoga Teacher Training program at Minneapolis College and is the founder of Heal What Hurts, a yogic process for transforming emotional triggers into sources of strength. Her forthcoming book by the same name will be published this September by local publisher Llewellyn Worldwide.