From the Ground Up: A Family Legacy in North Minneapolis
The first lessons that my parents taught my siblings and me were faith, self-sufficiency, and entrepreneurship. My father was the imam of our mosque, Masjid An-Nur, and a school bus driver, and my mother was an Executive Administrative Assistant and the Administrator at the masjid—but they both had side gigs outside of their full-time jobs. My dad had various entrepreneurial endeavors, the first being a janitorial business, and my mom turned her skills as a seamstress into a profitable side hustle as well.
My mom taught me how to be in community. Early on she was known as “Momma Arlene,” her role as “first lady” of the masjid keeping her constantly busy because so many community members came to her for consultation and assistance. She was a natural at it—I have a very vivid memory of her cleaning the house of a dear friend of hers diagnosed with cancer when we were on vacation. She would spend all day offering comfort, providing service, and finding solutions for her community, then come home and care for her family and her children. And then, at the end of the day, she would turn on her sewing machine and get to work late into the night.
My mom sewed dresses for many of her fellow “first ladies” of the Black churches and congregations in North Minneapolis, and she also sewed uniforms for Harvest Preparatory School (now Harvest Best Academy)—skirts, jumpers, pants for the students. She taught me that being Muslim doesn’t mean sacrificing on style—she always dressed my siblings and me in bespoke clothing that she made herself. She even sewed prom dresses for many of my friends.
And my dad, with whom I had an especially close connection, taught me how to be guided by Islam. We spent a lot of time together and most of it was in deep conversations about our faith, with him speaking to me about how the Qur’an is our guiding light.
I never had another vantage point, even when I was young and curious, and I felt fully grounded in my spiritual life from an early age. I grew up in the masjid, with many Muslim and non-Muslim friends. I was always very sure of my faith.
My parents believed that being a good Muslim meant being a good person, period. They aren’t just prominent leaders—they’re also kind, compassionate humans. I saw them practice kindness and compassion in so many small moments over the course of my childhood. I remember one day, when we were making a delivery of fruit baskets to the nursing home down the street, I was in a bad mood. My mom told me: “You better give every single one of these people a smile because if you ain’t got nothing else, you can give somebody a smile.” By the time we left that day, I was so fulfilled. It changed me to realize the power of sharing kindness with someone else.
My parents’ kindness extended beyond our own faith community. My sister and brothers played sports, so we had a lot of non-Muslim friends with whom we’d roam the neighborhood. Every summer I would pick a Vacation Bible School program in one of the many churches in my hood with my Christian friends. From our perspective, it was serving as representatives of Islam and building mutually respectful relationships with our friends of other faiths. It was also because they had breakfast, lunch, and crafts!
My parents also taught us to build relationships with neighbors and community members across racial and ethnic boundaries. When I was young, most of our community was African American with some white neighbors, but it became a melting pot with refugees from Laos, Vietnam, and Somalia moving in. Along with our rich history of Jewish residents, this blend of cultural backgrounds has given North Minneapolis a pizzazz that I’ve never found anywhere else.
That’s one of the reasons that I consider myself a Northsider For Life, an “NFL.” I’ve never had an address outside of the 55411 zip code. In fact, I recently moved back into my childhood home—the same house that I watched being built from the ground up.
My family and I saw the Northside community develop over the decades, with homes being built, neighborhoods being constructed, businesses coming and going. My father was one of the first African Americans to own and operate a food truck, which would eventually become El-Amin’s Fish House. He started with turkey legs, polish sausages, and hot dogs, and he would recruit the family to travel to various shows, fairs, and festivals throughout Minnesota. I remember early Saturday mornings, we would wake up before dawn, load up the food truck, and drive out to the Chisago or Anoka County Fairgrounds, where we would spend all day vending. Soon, my father brokered deals for our signature fish recipe with the help of another Muslim business owner from our community, and that solidified our legacy. El-Amin’s Fish House became known as a Northside staple.
Seeing my parents succeed in their small businesses infected me with the same entrepreneurial bug. From a young age, I wanted to do my own thing and be my own boss.
I would pitch my ideas to my mom, and if she liked my pitch, she would lend me a few dollars to get started. I was always a great saleswoman, so I would use her loan to buy stock—clothing, jewelry—and sell it to my friends and my peers.
My parents also taught me business acumen and values, and they showed me that having faith values meant I had to figure out what specific products could sell in my community. I couldn’t go around selling just anything to my people. I also knew that selling to my people required stewarding relationships with them—I couldn’t just sell something and then leave. I’m part of this community.
An entrepreneur is not a comfortable thing to be. There are always challenges and failures along the way. But if you have this enthusiasm for entrepreneurship, you’d rather deal with those bumps in the road than work a 9-to-5 job, if it means you can pursue your passions and practice vocational and financial self-sufficiency. I think the adversity has made me more strategic and more resilient.
After volunteering and working at Al-Maa’uun for over 25 years, I realized that one of my biggest strengths is my ability to evaluate systems, processes, and procedures—plus I love technology. I can take a look at a business or an organization, identify critical gaps, and create a plan to fill those gaps. I always wore many hats at Masjid An-Nur, including serving as the IT person, helping to bring them into the 21st century.
Now, I’m taking that skill and turning it into a small business. As the President and CEO of KNE Resource Services, I go into businesses that are out of compliance with relevant laws and regulations, and I help them understand what’s required of them to stay in operation. Often these requirements aren’t clear to business owners because compliance isn’t something that’s been taught to us. Maybe a business has gone through a leadership transition, or they’ve secured a large federal grant, or they’ve been fined by the state—whatever the situation, I look at the relevant documents and contracts to create a plan for them to stay in compliance.
I’m also working on a small AI language model to help businesses stay in the know and compliant. There’s potential for AI to help us automate our systems, answer our questions, and become more efficient. After 25 years of putting together these systems from scratch, I’m excited about providing tools for our small businesses and nonprofits that make compliance easier. With what I’ve learned from my family and my community and what I’ve been given by God, I’m hoping to benefit others and give back.
Legacy is big in my family. The lessons from my parents are the same ones that I’ve passed down to my own family. As a teen mother, the path was not always smooth, but my children have been my greatest blessing and my greatest reward. My oldest son in particular has been a companion throughout my life, because in many ways we grew up together. I have four children, whose ages range from 13 to 34, and five stepchildren, as well as three grandbabies, and I love my family dearly.
In my family, praising the names of those who came before us and those who built our community from the ground up is so important. As an African American Muslim family, we have ancestors whose history in this country and in this community stretches back decades and centuries.
Especially those who are no longer with us deserve to have their names spoken and their contributions remembered into future generations. All year long—not just in February—we’re paying homage to those ancestors and to those still with us.
Kamillah El-Amin is the President & CEO of KNE Resource Services, Economic Empowerment Agency based in North Minneapolis, MN. Through her work, Kamillah specializes in creating employment and business opportunities for underserved populations in North Minneapolis and surrounding suburbs. She is also the founder of Hurriya Village Development Group (HVDG), an economic development organization dedicated to supporting local businesses, organizations, and residents through strategic collaboration and community-driven initiatives.
Kamillah has also held multiple leadership positions within Masjid An-Nur and Al-Maa'uun – The Neighborly Needs Program, where she contributed significantly to stabilizing families and fostering economic opportunities. Her deep-rooted knowledge of local resources and strong community relationships allows her to effectively connect North Minneapolis residents with the tools and services they need to achieve financial independence and stability.
Born in Illinois and raised in North Minneapolis since the age of five, Kamillah is a proud lifelong Northsider (NFL). Despite traveling the world, she has always remained rooted in 55411, committed to uplifting her community.
Whether through real estate development, nonprofit leadership, or entrepreneurship, Kamillah's mission remains the same—to support, assist, and empower underserved families so they can focus on what truly matters: themselves, their loved ones, and their future.