MINNEAPOLIS — For months, fraud in Minnesota’s social services programs made headlines nationwide. But the fallout from that scrutiny is also affecting roughly 200,000 Minnesotans who rely on the programs at the center of the firestorm.
Those who need support — including people with autism, cerebral palsy, addiction and mental illness — have unwittingly found themselves in a precarious situation.
Unscrupulous providers have exploited the state’s lax oversight of their much-needed services. Federal authorities have threatened to cut critical Medicaid funding as Minnesota scrambles to better protect taxpayer dollars in programs where spending has exploded in recent years. Many fear hard-working providers will be caught up in the crackdown.
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Here are stories of some Minnesotans who depend on the programs at the center of the state’s fraud scandal.
Peer Recovery Services – Minneapolis
Amber Rae Vaughn sat on the stoop outside the Minneapolis townhouse she was poised to move into with her son and brushed back tears as she thought about how she was living up to the promise she made during her final call with her mom.
Vaughn had made that call from jail, where she landed after a string of crimes tied to her use and sale of methamphetamine. Child protection had taken her little boy.
“I said, ‘I promise to make you proud, and get Avery back and get out of jail.’ And that was one of the last things we spoke about before I found out she died,” she said.
Her mother’s unexpected passing was a turning point in her life, setting her on a trajectory toward treatment and a new life. But Vaughn doubts she would be in the same place without Amber Brown, a peer recovery specialist with Minnesota Prevention and Recovery Alliance, who has worked with Vaughn for nearly a year.
They talk or text almost daily. Brown has been there as Vaughn navigated court and child protection. They celebrate wins with a trip to the Dollar Store, “where you feel rich,” Vaughn laughed. And Brown wrote a letter of recommendation to help her get the townhouse.
“Everybody needs somebody,” Vaughn said.
Individualized Home Supports – Cloquet
When Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” plays, Kale Pierson comes alive. He jams out on the air guitar and piano whenever the song plays.
“He loves to be out and about and he loves music time,” said Kale’s mom Marianne Pierson.
Kale, 26, lives in Cloquet, Minn., and receives a Medicaid program called individualized home support that provides Kale with staff who help him with basic necessities at a house he’s lived in by himself since 2019. He was diagnosed with autism when he was 2.
Because Kale can have violent behaviors, his care and housing options are limited. He’s 6 feet, 5 inches tall, and needs two staff members at all times.
“You could have 100 applicants and only five will meet the criteria for Kale,” Marianne said. “And finding staff is worse now than during COVID because of the uncertainty.”
Kale used to have many outbursts, Marianne said, which have nearly disappeared since he stayed at an inpatient program with the Miller-Dwan Foundation that helped regulate his behaviors. Those programs only last a few weeks.
Marianne said she worries about the future and the consistency of Kale’s care.
“We don’t want to see him be yanked out of his house because a company can’t provide services,” she said. “If that were to happen and he would end up in a state facility, he would regress. He would lose all his freedom. I think the behaviors would become out of control. It would completely ruin his life.”
Community First Services and Supports – St. Paul
In January, Lydia Dawley’s home service provider abruptly stopped sending the workers who helped her complete routine tasks like getting dressed and eating meals.
Lydia, who has cerebral palsy and uses a wheelchair for mobility, had a week to find a solution.
“I feel mad because it shouldn’t be up to us to have to fight for being able to get fed or showered or get to work,” said Lydia, 29, who lives in St. Paul.
She works full time for St. Paul Public Schools, where she teaches young adults with disabilities to use communication tools like hers. Lydia communicates audibly through an iPad hooked up to a portable speaker.
The health care company that quit offering Lydia services cited itself as a casualty of the ongoing war on fraud, said Lydia and her mother, Jacque, who has since stepped in as her caregiver as they try to find a new business to take over her care.
To make it work, Jacque had to go fully remote from her employer and pass on responsibilities at the family farm to Lydia’s older brother, Zachery. Jacque said the sudden loss of the provider was disappointing.
“It’s just heartbreaking,” Jacque said. “Being that I live so far away, I need peace of mind that she’s going to be taken care of.”
Early Intensive Developmental and Behavioral Intervention – Owatonna
Talking did not come easy to Mason Coleman, 19.
Diagnosed with autism as a toddler, the Owatonna teen did not speak until grade school. Before then, he pointed to pictures on an iPad to tell his parents when he was hungry, when he wanted to ride on a swing or to say how he was feeling.
His attention span was short. And sometimes, Mason would run off without warning. Today, Mason can read books, visit restaurants and sit through one of his younger sister’s basketball games. The Colemans attribute a great deal of Mason’s progress to the MAC Midwest, a Twin Cities based nonprofit providing autism services, where Mason has been in school since kindergarten.
The Mankato school relies on Medicaid dollars that come from Minnesota’s Early Intensive Developmental and Behavioral Intervention program, which is available for children with autism and young adults up to 21 years old.
It is only one of the state services the family relies on.
Every school day a van picks Mason up, drives him about 100 miles round trip, and drops him off at his front door, part of a state transportation program for nonemergency medical transportation, also a Medicaid-funded program under scrutiny.
For the Colemans, the support enables the family to best support Mason.
“It’s been challenging,” said Brian Coleman, his father.
Night Supervision – Minnetonka
Amy Wiersum sat on her favorite chair with an elephant–shaped jitter toy, blowing raspberries out of joy. Her identical twin sister, Jennifer, prefers to observe the world from the floor where she played with musical toys. The two, 40, are inseparable.
They were born premature and have Down syndrome. Both are nonverbal and have always needed around-the-clock care. The family’s view of Medicaid funding, their father Brad Wiersum said, has recently changed.
“We didn’t really think too much about where it was coming from,” he said. “We worked with the county and we really didn’t think of it being a federal program.”
The two have support staff at their house all day, including night supervision. They also go to adult day programs. The state froze payments to providers in both programs in 2025.
Karen Wiersum, the girls’ mother, said the state’s actions increased providers’ anxiety over losing payments or staff jobs, causing stress for families who rely on the care too.
Group homes — a more common solution for people like Jennifer and Amy — aren’t an option because two open spots at one home are very uncommon.
Karen said she worries that policymakers aren’t thinking about people who receive services when they’re making quick decisions.
“The way it’s being handled right now, the biggest losers are people like our daughters, who have disabilities and no other solutions,” Karen said. “It’s scary every day.”
Adult Day Services – Burnsville
Michael Shelton stretched his wrists alongside a couple dozen others doing their morning exercises at Mt. Olivet Day Services. Behind them, staff prepared meatloaf and vegetables for lunch. Flower bouquets participants had arranged that morning decorated the dining room tables.
Shelton, 63, has been coming to the adult day care program in south Minneapolis for the past year. The Burnsville resident has cerebral palsy and relies on a range of Medicaid waiver services to help with daily living. He visits the day center four days a week.
“If my sister did not find this place, I’d be sitting in my room all day, every day,” he said.
Along with community outings and activities like music and games, Admissions Director Alysha Grant said they assist with basics, such as eating, going to the bathroom and, for an additional fee, bathing. The longstanding day service provider offers connection for participants and respite for their caregivers.
After Minnesota added scrutiny of adult day services at the end of last year, Grant said they started seeing long wait times for service agreements they need to start working with someone. She worries about those with mental health challenges.
“The prolonged wait crushes our heart, because we obviously want them here,” Grant said.
Adult Rehabilitative Mental Health Services – St. Louis Park
Shauna Valdez has been a constant in Catherine’s life for five years.
The mental health worker has been there during hard moments, including Catherine’s long hospitalization for pneumonia and the loss of purpose she felt when she had to leave a fulfilling part-time job working with children and families.
“She’s seen me through all of this. And it’s been a lifesaver, to be honest. She’s been a rock and has helped me keep going,” said Catherine, 55, of St. Louis Park, who asked not to be identified by her last name to protect her privacy. “It’s nice to have that consistency.”
Catherine has struggled with depression, anxiety and eating disorders since she was a teen. She receives adult rehabilitative mental health services from Valdez. They set goals and do mindfulness activities, like meditation. Valdez challenges “negative self-talk” and they discuss coping skills.
“It’s hard when all this fraud has taken place, but you’re not part of it and you need the services or you’ve benefited from them,” Catherine said. “And it’s just that fear of them being gone, and uncertainty.”
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