Minneapolis Artists Put Their Bodies on the Line Against ICE

On January 24, U.S. Border Patrol agents subdued, disarmed, and killed nurse Alex Pretti in front of the Minneapolis College of Art and Design (MCAD), just blocks away. Federal agents deployed multiple flash-bang grenades and chemical munitions following the incident, which resulted in an 11-hour shelter-in-place order for the MCAD community, which has approximately 800 students from 13 countries. Gwendolyn Freed, the school’s president and CEO, said an employee at the school was arrested by Border Patrol agents.

“We are rooted in the Whittier community and have strong ICE enforcement throughout the region,” she told us art news in a recent phone interview. The school will implement remote instruction until mid-February.

It’s just one example of the Twin Cities arts scene being affected by Operation Metro Surge, a massive operation by the U.S. Border Patrol that saw some 3,000 federal agents in the city purportedly as an immigration enforcement operation but seemingly designed to intimidate left-leaning populations. (Minnesota has consistently voted Democratic in past presidential elections; Trump lost the state twice. Democratic Gov. Tim Walz has been outspoken against ICE incursions.)

Just in January, two U.S. citizens died at the hands of federal agents in the city; on January 7, ICE agent Jonathan Ross fatally shot legal observer Renee Good, a poet and mother of three, in her car. On January 7, more than one agent (unidentified) shot Preeti ten times as she tried to drive away. (An agent is seen on video applauding after Pretty was killed.) Both victims were observing federal agents at work; both deaths were captured on extensive cellphone video; and in the days and even minutes after their deaths, both victims were viciously vilified by President Donald Trump, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, U.S. Border Patrol Capt. Gregory Bovino and other Republicans, falsely claiming (in the face of conflicting evidence) that they were “domestic terrorists” who attacked federal agents.

Artists have been doing everything you might expect them to do at a time like this: making signs, banners, posters, flyers, buttons, and more. In addition to this, they are involved in an extensive mutual aid program, providing food and rental assistance to those who have been afraid to leave their homes for up to a month. They have also been physically intervening, risking their lives, to try to stop federal agents from kidnapping their neighbors.

Currently, in some ways, “we’ve pushed aside the label of artist,” Xavier Tavera Castro, a Mexican-born artist and assistant professor of art at Carleton College in Northfield, just south of the Twin Cities, told us. art news.

The city is home to several prominent art museums, some of which have changed their opening hours during the crisis: The Walker Art Center closed on Friday, Jan. 23, as part of a statewide effort, and Miami International Airport closed for three consecutive days “for the safety of staff and visitors.” The Minnesota Museum of American Art is the first local institution to announce it will close on January 23. It is São Paulo’s only museum and was founded in the 1890s as an art school. Its staff number is only about sixteen. “As a Dakota mother, I am directly impacted,” said Executive Director Kate Beane (Flanders Santee Dakota and Muskogee Creek). “I had to take a day off work to make sure I had the kids’ papers, their tribal cards, especially as an indigenous child in this area. To go to the grocery store, we had to carry all the papers. When I drove, I put the kids’ birth certificates in the car. It was a surreal experience.” The irony of indigenous people being caught in the immigration dragnet hardly needs to be emphasized.

Polish-born artist Piotr Szyhalski has lived in Minneapolis for more than thirty years. For him, the current situation is reminiscent of communist Poland in the 1980s. Because of the sheer number of federal troops, every unfamiliar car and every person walking on the street had to be considered a potential threat. “Those moments reminded me of martial law in Poland—seeing armed, uniformed men roaming the streets brutalizing people at will or taking them to who-knows-where,” he told me. art news. He can go from calm to panicked in an instant.

“I’m tired of fighting ICE every minute of every day,” said MCAD faculty artist Sam Gould. “But that’s our reality right now, so I have to keep moving forward.”

Artists are making banners, posters and t-shirts

Residents of the Minneapolis arts community say they have no illusions about the specific reasons why the Trump administration is targeting their city. “All the reasons why I fell in love with this city and its people,” Siharski said, “are also the reasons why this regime is trying to destroy this place, and it’s so sad and confusing.”

Sichalski turned the tools of his art toward the purpose of confronting the government. A few years ago, the artist created what he calls a “public access letterpress.” The piece happened to be on display at the city’s now-defunct Soap Factory art venue in 2015, when, according to witnesses, Minneapolis police arrested, subdued, and shot African American Jamar Clark. He made it possible for people to print banners for the ensuing public protests, and used it again during the subway surge operation. He said contributing in this way gave him some stability and purpose.

Jessica Seamans and Dan Black run Landland Studio in Minneapolis, where they do graphic design, illustration and screen printing. After they released posters and T-shirt ads featuring the state bird, the loon, with the slogan “Don’t Tread on Minnesota,” their sales jumped nearly 600% every week, with orders coming from multiple countries. It is a riff on the Gadsden flag, which featured the image of a coiled snake and the words “Don’t Tread on Me,” and was designed by South Carolina Representative Christopher Gadsden during the American Revolution as a symbol of opposition to tyranny and government overreach. “It has been exploited by the right,” Seamans told art newsnoting that she often sees it alongside the Blue Lives Matter flag. “So to me, this seemed like a good time to try and take it back. What’s happening in Minneapolis right now is nothing if not government overreach.”

All proceeds from merchandise sales will be donated to the Minnesota Immigration Law Center.

While artists are taking action, there is widespread paralysis among many in the community — “including artists I know and students who take my classes,” said Tavira Castro, assistant professor of art at Carleton College. “There was a sense of, why are we doing this? I’m going to tell them in front of twenty-five kids, let’s get excited about photography! They look at me like, what the fuck is wrong with you? But I do believe that art is transformative.” He told them, continuing to make art, “because I believe that if we stop doing this, they’re going to win and we’re going to lose.”

It’s worse than you think

Everyone in the arts world is singing from the same hymn, extolling one thing: Even allowing for widespread media coverage and social media exposure, the situation is worse than you might think.

“The situation is very tense,” Tavira Castro said. He has lived in south Minneapolis for three decades, just blocks from George Floyd Square and blocks from where Renee Goode was killed. “It’s very chaotic. People are living in constant fear, not just for myself and my family, but for neighbors and people we know in Minneapolis and St. Paul. It’s a tough situation.”

Bean said, “It’s a profession. I’m half-blood and I’m afraid every time my pure-blood [Native American] The husband goes to the store. It’s horrifying to indiscriminately intercept and target people of color based on their appearance. “

“I don’t think any video can explain the level of violence and chaos they brought to the community,” Gould reported. “Cars were idling in the street as they pulled people out of their cars and left them there. I had several neighbors kidnapped. They tried to take away a young mother from the neighborhood, but people put their bodies between people and agents. They were hit with tear gas and concussion grenades. People were beaten. This has been our daily reality as six and seven-year-olds for weeks.”

When asked if he had any physical contact with ICE agents, Gould responded: “Multiple times.”

More than just “Minnesota Nice” binding on resistance movements

When asked what made him fall in love with the community, Szyharski listed a list of qualities he saw there: “Care, empathy, mutual support, joy. An understanding of the importance of the environment, culture, art, unity. Sincerity. When I hear myself saying these words, none of that is enough, because really it’s the sum of all those things and then some. These are things that are hard to put into words. It’s how you do it.” Feelreal. “

Just as Siharski looks back on the violence of communist Poland in the context of current atrocities, Bean also provides historical context. “After the Dakota War, my family and community were removed from the state [in 1862] Under military guard. Our people, our grandparents, were imprisoned in a concentration camp at Fort Snelling, a mile from where the detention center is now. Our family returned as adults to try to reconnect with our hometown. ”

You might think that “Minnesota is nice”, a statement about the politeness and politeness (if also passive-aggressiveness) of the local populace, might irritate those who experience such discrimination. “As a Dakotan, I’ve always been very wary of the word because my people were treated so poorly,” Bean added. “My understanding of ‘Minnesota Friendly’ really changed the way I see my community coming together and supporting each other. I can see the love, care, and compassion that make this a beautiful place to live, and it makes me very proud to be a Minnesotan today, a native of this land.”

After noticing his close contact with ICE agents, Gould quickly pivoted from his own actions to the values ​​of the community.

“That’s what this community is all about,” he said. “This is the work of generations. It’s muscle memory for a lot of people. It’s a truly multilingual community, and that’s one of the reasons we’re the focus of the Trump administration: because it’s an inevitable picture of the future of America that they desperately want to erase. It’s an immigrant community that’s multiracial, multiethnic, economically diverse, politically forward-thinking, very supportive, very entangled. It’s not a perfect place, but that’s what makes it beautiful.

“They’re literally outside our door,” he said, “but there’s organization and cooperation and support among the neighbors. Risking your life is incredibly inspiring, and that’s the energy that keeps people going.”