After the murder of Alex Pretti by ICE agents last weekend, and the murder of Renee Good a week before, our eyes have been transfixed on Minnesota: Horrified by ICE’s occupation, abductions, and killings. But also inspired by Minnesota’s steadfast and soulful response. We’re seeing — in sharp relief — both the deadly power of the regime we’re up against. And how to fight back.     

So, on Tuesday night, I flew there to meet with some of the courageous neighbors resisting ICE's occupation of their city. I went together with Hannah, an organizer with Hands Off NYC. (Hannah shared some of her reflections in a beautiful and widely-read post on Instagram).

Our goals were to listen and learn, to share their rage and pain, to show our gratitude for their leadership in this critical moment. And then to come back and act on it. 

We met with organizers, neighbors, faith leaders, small business owners, and elected officials. We joined volunteer trainings, neighborhood patrols, protests, and community conversations. By listening to what they have to share, we aimed not only to show solidarity — but also to learn lessons we need to build collective power to defend our city, and help change our country. Here are a few of the lessons I came away with:
 
They are enraged. And struggling to understand how it is that our own government is occupying their city, abducting their neighbors, and killing people over nonviolent expressions of dissent. At the memorial for Alex Pretti, I was struck by this sign, which captured something they’re trying to tell us. 

On Wednesday night, we went to a protest along Lake Street, which felt pretty Minnesota to me. The temperature was sub-zero, but hundreds of people were out, at a series of corners up & down the long avenue, with many immigrant-owned small businesses. The protestors “occupied the corners,” but stayed peacefully on the sidewalk. They loved when a car went by blasting Springsteen’s new “Streets of Minneapolis” (but not, like, too loud). An immigrant business had brought an industrial thermos of delicious, and very hot tea.

Despite these many signs of “Minnesota nice,” their rage at ICE was clear. My sense is that they don’t usually curse in their chants. But they are now. They want ICE out of their city, dismantled, and abolished. They are furious.

They are good neighbors. You could see everywhere that they are serious about protecting their neighbors, regardless of where they’re from, or how long they’ve been here. It’s far too cold for a cardigan (well, maybe as one of many layers), but it did feel like they’re channeling Mr. Rogers. If anyone is showing what it looks like to turn empathy into a superpower, it's the good neighbors of Minneapolis.

Their patrols are organized by neighborhood, and people are meeting in powerful new ways (even if, so far, many know each other by their Signal codenames). 

They’re walking kids to school, building on organizing by Minneapolis Families for Public Schools, as well as grassroots action that has emerged through parent groups in recent weeks. 

So many small businesses have become hubs for gear, whistles, masks, hand warmers, snack food.

In addition to the ICE watch patrols, a strong network of mutual aid has emerged – in schools, synagogues and mosques and churches, and neighborhood groups. They’ve raised millions of dollars to cover rent for immigrant families whose breadwinners are afraid to leave their homes. They’re pushing for an eviction moratorium, so no one is thrown out of their homes amidst frigid cold and federal occupation.    

They’ve developed tools and tactics that we can learn.

We learned a lot about how they organize ICE-watch neighborhood patrols, how they train volunteers, how they coordinate across neighborhoods. Their networks are distributed – there’s no one leader or organization – but they are sharing tools (e.g. a license-plate database to keep track of the vehicles ICE is using) and resources.  

They’re building “inside/outside” partnerships of activists and elected officials. This is a moment that calls for connections across movements, and for elected officials to support and partner with organizers. We cannot, and will not, stand by while ICE kidnaps and murders people in our communities. I was grateful to meet City Council President Elliot Payne, Majority Leader Aisha Chughtai, and Councilmember Aurin Chowdhury (who I connected to through Local Progress, of course) all out on the streets with their constituents. 

And Congressmember Ilhan Omar really showed what courage looked like this week, when she did not flinch in the face of an assault at a town hall. She not only kept speaking, but the next night, she organized a thank-you event for volunteers and patrollers — to make sure they know she has their backs.

Most importantly, organizers are bringing new people in all the time, and continuing to scale their efforts. Every group we talked to reported that, in the days after the murders of Renee and Alex, thousands of new people signed up. Think about that: people see there’s a risk they’ll be killed, and yet they are signing up in droves. They know the stakes, and they are stepping up to lead.

A movement is growing.

You can feel it on the streets, and in the songs. By now, you’ve heard Bruce Springsteen’s “Streets of Minneapolis,” and maybe Billy Bragg’s “City of Heroes” (although I have a kinder take on Martin Niemoller). Maybe you’ve started following Singing Resistance Twin Cities. I especially liked this send-off of Bovino. And there are many more; please share your favorites with me.

Paul Krugman likened what’s happening in Minneapolis to the “color revolutions,” the nonviolent uprisings that overthrew some of the autocratic regimes that emerged after the collapse of the Soviet Union.  

For me, it had the feeling that Rebecca Solnit describes in her essential book, A Paradise Built in Hell — a feeling that I felt most palpably in those days after Superstorm Sandy.  

What is this feeling that crops up during so many disasters? An emotion graver than happiness,” that provides “an extraordinary window into social desire and possibility.” The superpower of empathy in action during times of crisis gives us “a glimpse of who else we ourselves may be and what else our society could become. The recovery of this purpose and closeness without crisis or pressure is the great contemporary task of being human.”

I heard this in a conversation I had with Jewish Community Action (a Twin Cities organization similar to Jews for Racial and Economic Justice). Even in this time of trauma and emergency, they are working to learn longer-term lessons, and prepare for a different future. 

(In this, they are mindful of the weeks and months after the killing of George Floyd, when many of these groups were working together for racial justice, only to face a backlash that rolled back so much of the progress they hoped to make. Bonds they forged then are re-emerging. They are eager for progress to be more durable).

The people I spoke with in Minneapolis want us to follow their lead: To be enraged. To see the clear, present, deadly danger for what it is. To love our neighbors. To learn from and adapt their tactics. To stay/get busy organizing.

Folks in Minneapolis were out in the cold again on Friday. I especially loved this amazing frozen lake SOS.

(David Guttenfelder, New York Times)

By then, I was back in NYC, where I went straight from the airport to the protest — and was blown away not only by the size and energy of the crowd, but especially by how many students there were, who had walked out of their schools in the general strike.

And Hannah and the folks at Hands Off NYC trained thousands more people this weekend.

Some of you have asked me what you can do to support the groups and people in Minneapolis. Stand With Minnesota and ActBlue have both put together good lists of organizations you can contribute to. Some other groups I was impressed with include Unidos MN, Minneapolis Families for Public Schools, Jewish Community Action, and Isaiah (but again, there are so many others organizing on the ground). ICE Out of Minnesota is a toolkit for solidarity action. 

And they really want us getting ready here, as well. So sign up for a training with Hands Off NYC. Or for solidarity action with New York Immigration Coalition, Make the Road New York, New Sanctuary Coalition, Jews for Racial and Economic Justice, South Brooklyn Sanctuary, Haven Fund, The Door, ROCC NYC, or one of so many other groups working on the ground here.

When the history books are written, they will look at this moment. At the state violence of the Trump regime. At the heartbreak of the loss of Renee Good and Alex Pretti. At the abduction and cruelty to so many immigrant families (thankfully Liam Ramos has been released at last, but what a hideous example, out of so many others). 

But they will also record the extraordinary response of the good neighbors of Minneapolis — and of everyone else who rises to their example. Let’s do all we can to make this the moment when the story changes. 

In solidarity,

Brad

P.S. Thanks very much to everyone who contributed to my campaign over the past few days, as we came to our end-of-month deadline, while I was traveling to and from Minneapolis. It’s hard to figure out the right balance of campaigning at a time like this — doing my best to get it right. But in any case, I truly appreciate your support.