When the siege began, it was destabilizing. As a Minnesotan for over 30 years, I’m used to feeling rooted and safe here: Minnesota is my home. As ICE activities increased, that sense of normalcy transformed into heightened attention and caution. Even daily activities began to look different.
Many of us feel fear. Latinos/Hispanics and the Somali community. Even though I am a naturalized citizen, due to my physical features I am not safe from the risk of being stopped or arrested by ICE. Worrying about my safety and that of my children, who are also Latino, took an emotional toll. I told my adult children to bring their passports and birth certificates with them: they were born here. And after seeing the news about Ice entering schools, my youngest son – who is in high school – carries his birth certificate with him in his backpack. What hurts most is that many non-white people are targeted based solely on their appearance.
I HAVE STARTED to carry my passport with me in mid-December 2025, after witnessing an ICE operation broadcast live-streamed. At that moment I realized that my sense of security was gone, and that that little blue book (the passport) was what would hopefully protect me.
Personally, I have never been stopped or detained. However, my younger brother – who is an American citizen – was stopped on his way to work. No dangerous action was taken against him, but the meeting with the ICE agents was intimidating and emotionally destabilizing for him. After he returned home, he missed work: the experience was too difficult to process, especially since it happened after Renee Good’s death.
I’m a healthcare worker here in Minneapolis: I started noticing a change the second week of December. More and more patients were canceling their appointments or not showing up. The reason, they told us, was fear: of being stopped while going to visits. A fear that causes people to delay or deprive themselves of the medical care they need, which has serious health consequences. Hearing these stories has a powerful impact on those of us who care about our community. In my professional experience, it is one of the most difficult things I have witnessed.
A DEAR FRIEND OF MINE he invited me to participate in a community watch social group (where we exchange information on ongoing raids, sightings, political activities, etc., ed.). My goal is to be informed, understand the resources available and share them with our communities, especially when it comes to healthcare issues. Ensuring accurate information seems important to me.
It was also a way for me to feel part of the community, along with other Minnesotans who care about our neighbors. It’s who we are – we support each other. Being part of a group, sharing our resources, alerts and information about vigils or other events has helped us stay connected to each other, grieve together, find a sense of togetherness in an extremely difficult time.
I REMEMBER WEDNESDAY morning, January 7, when news of Renee Good’s death began to circulate. Some of us in the neighbor alert groups got the message: a female observer had been shot. I remember the feeling: I was amazed. It was a mother who had just taken her son to school. That same evening I attended a vigil. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands of people who gathered in solidarity. It was moving and surreal. I was in a state of shock, trying to come to terms with what had happened. 17 days later Alex Pretti was killed: the impact was different. At that point I was already emotionally exhausted. Finding out that it had happened again, this time to another healthcare professional, was painful. When it came out that Alex was a nurse, it hit me on a personal level. Many of us already have to deal with the collective trauma that comes from what we see every day: the fear of our patients, the postponed care, the constant insecurity.
THAT AFTERNOON I went to the place where a small memorial had been formed. It was deeply emotional. I couldn’t believe it: it had happened again. That night I cried for someone I never knew, but whose commitment to community I recognized immediately.
In healthcare, we are taught to put our patients first. What stays with me is this dedication to protecting our neighbors and standing up for one another.
From my perspective, there has been no significant improvement since the change in leadership of the federal agents in Minneapolis. Ice is still present, and the tactics are still the same. Even after Greg Bovino left, the visibility and intensity of the actions did not change perceptibly.
MANY OF US they were relieved when Bovino was removed, but the fear did not disappear. People still talk about sightings of agents, they still feel observed (drones fly over cities at night) and they feel unsafe in their daily lives. Under Bovino there were three shootings, two of which were fatal. They are heavy pasts, and they hover over the present.
I wish the Democratic leadership was able to do more. But I also realize that their hands are tied. There are legal and structural limits to what they can do. Locally, I’ve seen Jacob Frey, the mayor of Minneapolis, speak consistently and clearly about how this is impacting immigrant families and small businesses. On his part I see genuine interest. I’ve also seen a positive change under Minneapolis Police Chief Brian O’Hara: Many now see local police as an ally – a trust that matters.
AT THE SAME TIME, It sounds like a David and Goliath situation. Minneapolis has limited resources: the police department has about 600 officers while ICE operations employ nearly 3,000. Local and state leadership can only act up to a certain point in the face of this imbalance of forces.
Yet I have hope. Seeing the mayor of Minneapolis in Washington, and lawmakers coming to Minnesota to observe what is happening, gives me hope that there is a greater understanding of the events.
I understand that our state leaders are seeking solutions through legal channels, but so far these efforts have not led to a meaningful solution. And it’s frustrating for all of us.
Seeing Liam Ramos come home was a ray of hope. When I saw his face in the local newspapers a few weeks ago, my heart broke. He’s just a child. Knowing that he had returned to Minnesota, to his mother, together with his father, gave relief to many of us. The feeling was that something was finally going right.
HOWEVER THE ALARM bomb at his school deeply disturbed me. It is painful to think that anyone would want to harm a 5-year-old child just because of his immigration status. But it comforts me to see that the local police forces have done their duty.
I am not surprised that there is talk of an appeal by the government of the judge’s decision to release Liam and his father. What gives me hope is the relentless work of the American Civil Liberties Union, immigration and civil rights activists, and the fact that Department of Education officials are taking a stand to protect children in schools from ICE. For me, the fact that Liam came home remains a symbol of hope.
Translation by Giovanna Branca
date: 2026-02-08 00:08:00