“This Is What It Means to Be Minnesotan”: Why My Neighbors Continue to Stand Up Against ICE

Kristin Heiberg, who writes software user guides, patrols her neighborhood every day and attends protests and vigils.“We’re just watching out for our neighbors. If that’s a form of protest, so be it.”Libby Blyth is an accountant for an environmental consulting company. She drives people to work who are afraid of being spotted by ICE and delivers food to families in hiding.“I don’t want to be one of those people that sat. I don’t want to be somebody’s history lesson.”Kris Allen is a retired palliative nurse practitioner. She and her husband, Ben, attend weekly prayer vigils for detained people with their church. They have protested at the federal building where ICE holds detainees and participated in sit-ins at Target stores.“We’re retired. We have white privilege. We have to be the ones to stand up.”Adan Tepozteco Gavilan owns a barbershop where he and his sister, Anai, started a food drive. They have provided food to hundreds of families.“My parents are immigrants, and they moved here for a better life, but also to give us a better life. And we’re going to continue to support as many families as we can, especially kids.”Elizabeth Anderson works in performing arts. She arranges for drivers to take kids to school and coordinates food delivery for more than 100 families.“It just seems so simple. My neighbors need help. And I would hope that if I was in a situation where I needed help, or if I was as scared as these people are, that somebody would help me.”Nasrieen Habib founded Amanah Recreational Project, an organization that promotes outdoor activities for Muslim women. She redirected her organization to provide food and rent assistance.“People are still putting themselves out there. And it’s for the sake of humanity, and our community, and showing the rest of the U.S. and the world that this is what it means to be Minnesotan.”Natalie Ehret is an attorney. She and her husband, Noah, founded Haven Watch. The organization provides coats, food, phones and rides to detainees when they are released from federal custody, often with few belongings.“It was never a question. Once we knew what was happening, that people were being let out in the freezing cold, it wasn’t an option to leave that gate.”Shane Stodolka is a software developer. He and his roommate, Olivia Tracy, say they deliver food to more than 100 families every week.“When they give us their worst, we are giving us our best.”Norman Alston is a high school wrestling coach. When he’s not coaching, he sits outside school, watching for ICE.“Legal immigration, illegal immigration? That’s not my call. That’s not my fight. By the time you’re my neighbor, you’re my neighbor.”Melissa Borgmann, a cafe owner, organized rides and grocery deliveries for her staff.“I need my staff to know that they’re safe. It was crazy networking … but it’s all about feeling safe and vetted.”Jen Suek is a project manager in the health care field. She patrols her neighborhood and local schools, and she vets her neighborhood Signal chat.“We’re all sort of getting through this together. We don’t have formal leaders in these groups.”Sergio Amezcua is pastor at Dios Habla Hoy church in south Minneapolis. Since early December, the church has provided food to thousands of people.“I think that’s the true identity of Minnesota: peaceful protesting, caring about their neighbors and stepping up to the plate. Not waiting for the government to help.”Jianeth Riera Lazo is the chef at a Minneapolis cafe. She helped connect friends and family members in need of food and rental assistance to people who could provide it.“I call [my friends] and I say: ‘Please think positive. This is going away very soon.’ And they say, ‘OK, thank you for staying positive.’ And then I turn off the phone, and I start crying.”Missy Dietrich is a personal trainer. She patrols her neighborhood, regularly protests at the federal building where ICE holds detainees and volunteers at a food pantry.“It’s an unspoken bond, to stick up for what’s right, knowing that something might happen to us in the meantime. … And I truly think that this will continue, this bond.”