In Minneapolis, an organization built to interrupt cycles of violence became, according to prosecutors, a vehicle for its own undoing — its leaders allegedly siphoning $6.5 million in charitable funds into personal luxuries and private ventures while the communities they pledged to protect were left without promised services. Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison's civil suit against We Push for Peace and its former directors Trahern Pollard and Jaclyn McGuigan raises a timeless question about stewardship: what becomes of trust when those entrusted with it treat it as a resource to be consu
Minnesota Nonprofit Collapse: Directors Accused of Siphoning $6.5M for Vegas Trips, Luxury Goods
Community violence prevention services were disrupted, leaving Minneapolis residents without promised intervention resources during critical public safety operations.
utterly incapable of answering the call when the city needed them most
Mark
Why would someone running a violence prevention nonprofit risk everything for Vegas trips and a liquor store?
Mimi
Because they could. The nonprofit had contracts, cash flow, and minimal oversight. Once you're the person signing checks, the temptation calculus changes.
Mark
Did anyone notice before it got to $6.5 million?
Mimi
Apparently not until the city asked them to actually do their job during Operation Metro Surge. That's when it became obvious the organization had nothing left to give.
Mark
What strikes you most about the fake companies he created?
Mimi
The speed. Days after the Attorney General started asking questions, he incorporated a shell company. It suggests he knew exactly what he'd done and how to hide it—not panic, but practiced deception.
Mark
Did the treasurer know what was happening?
Mimi
The $1,000 weekly transfers to her personal account suggest she was a willing participant, not a dupe. That's not a mistake you make once—that's a system.
Mark
What happens to the communities now?
Mimi
They're left without the services they were promised and the money that was supposed to fund them. The violence interruption work doesn't happen. That's the real cost.
The Pulse
- Millions in public and private funds meant to prevent violence in Minnesota communities were allegedly redirected into Las Vegas trips, luxury vehicles, spa visits, and a private liquor store.
- The nonprofit's treasurer allegedly moved $1,000 per week into her personal account while disguising government grant money as routine administrative costs.
- When Minneapolis needed We Push for Peace to respond to a major federal law enforcement operation targeting violence, the organization had been so thoroughly hollowed out it could not function.
- As investigators closed in, the primary director allegedly filed false sworn statements, created shell companies within days, and rerouted lucrative contracts — including one with Whole Foods — into his own private corporation.
- Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison has filed a civil lawsuit seeking to hold both former directors accountable for what prosecutors describe as rampant, systematic self-dealing.
In Minneapolis, an organization built to interrupt cycles of violence became, according to prosecutors, a vehicle for its own undoing — its leaders allegedly siphoning $6.5 million in charitable funds into personal luxuries and private ventures while the communities they pledged to protect were left without promised services. Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison's civil suit against We Push for Peace and its former directors Trahern Pollard and Jaclyn McGuigan raises a timeless question about stewardship: what becomes of trust when those entrusted with it treat it as a resource to be consumed. The collapse of this organization during a major federal violence-reduction operation made the human cost impossible to ignore.
We Push for Peace was founded to break cycles of violence in Minnesota — holding contracts for community intervention work across the state and commanding millions in public and private funding. According to a civil lawsuit filed Friday by Attorney General Keith Ellison, its leaders turned that mission inside out.
Former director Trahern Pollard allegedly took more than $6 million for himself, spending it on Las Vegas hotel stays, luxury cars, Harley Davidson purchases, and high-end spas. He also allegedly used nonprofit accounts to pay personal child support, settle an IRS debt, and sustain a private used car dealership and liquor store. Treasurer Jaclyn McGuigan allegedly transferred $1,000 weekly into her personal account and funneled additional grant money under the cover of administrative expenses.
The consequences reached beyond the balance sheet. When Minneapolis called on the organization during Operation Metro Surge — a federal initiative targeting violent crime — We Push for Peace was, in prosecutors' words, utterly incapable of responding. The communities it had promised to serve were left without the intervention resources they had been counting on.
As scrutiny mounted, Pollard allegedly submitted false sworn statements, mischaracterized a $35,000 transfer to personal friends as payroll, and rapidly incorporated shell companies to drain what remained of the nonprofit's revenue. He also redirected outside contracts, including an arrangement with Whole Foods, away from the charity and into his newly formed private business.
The case exposes a structural fragility common to mission-driven organizations: when oversight is minimal and trust is assumed, a determined leader can cause irreversible damage long before the outside world takes notice. By the time We Push for Peace's collapse became visible, the money was gone, the services had vanished, and the communities meant to benefit had lost both.
We Push for Peace was supposed to interrupt cycles of violence in Minnesota communities. Instead, prosecutors say, it became a vehicle for its own leaders to drain millions in charitable donations meant for outreach and prevention work—money that vanished into Las Vegas hotel rooms, luxury car lots, and a private liquor store.
Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison filed a civil lawsuit Friday against the nonprofit and its two former directors, Trahern Pollard and Jaclyn McGuigan, alleging systematic theft of $6.5 million in public and private funds. The organization, which held contracts for community violence intervention across the state, collapsed under what prosecutors describe as "rampant abuse" and brazen self-dealing by the people entrusted to run it.
Pollard, the nonprofit's leader, personally took more than $6 million, according to the complaint. The money funded trips to Las Vegas, purchases of luxury vehicles, and shopping sprees at Harley Davidson dealerships and high-end spas. But the diversions went deeper. Pollard allegedly used the nonprofit's accounts to pay his own child support obligations, settle a personal tax debt with the IRS, and prop up his private business ventures—a used car dealership and a liquor store that operated separately from the charity's stated mission. McGuigan, serving as treasurer, established a pattern of moving $1,000 per week from nonprofit accounts into her personal bank account and siphoned thousands more in government grant money she labeled as "administrative expenses."
The collapse had real consequences for the city. When Minneapolis requested We Push for Peace's assistance during Operation Metro Surge, a major federal enforcement initiative aimed at reducing violence, the organization that once commanded millions in contracts was, in prosecutors' words, "utterly incapable" of responding. The community lost access to the violence interruption services it had been promised.
As investigators closed in, Pollard allegedly submitted false statements under penalty of perjury, claiming a child support payment was nonprofit overhead and mischaracterizing a $35,000 transfer to personal friends as "Chicago payroll." When the Attorney General's office began requesting records, Pollard moved quickly to obscure the theft. He incorporated a fake for-profit subsidiary of the charity within days, then created another company called Change Makers designed to drain remaining nonprofit revenue. He redirected lucrative community liaison contracts—including a deal with Whole Foods—away from the charity and into his newly formed private corporation, according to court documents.
The case illustrates a particular vulnerability in the nonprofit sector: organizations built on trust, often operating with minimal oversight, where a determined leader can redirect funds before anyone outside the organization realizes what's happening. By the time We Push for Peace's collapse became visible, the damage was done. The communities it was meant to serve had lost both the money and the services, and the organization's credibility was destroyed.
Notable Quotes
Instead of helping the community, they helped themselves to millions of dollars that should have gone into the community.— Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison
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