The Tamesis
For nearly two decades, sisters Marina Shimelfarb and Liliya Gokhberg have run their contemporary fashion boutique Atelier957 in St. Paul, Minnesota. But in 2026, the store remained largely closed as a show of solidarity with immigrant communities targeted by ICE in the Twin Cities. Here, Gochberg reflects on her hometown’s descent into chaos and how she finds hope in a city united in its quest for change.
My sister lives in St. Paul and I live in Minneapolis. We are all immigrants. we came to america [in the late 1980s] Originally from the former Soviet Union and living in what is now Kiev, Ukraine. We are Jews, and Jews were treated as second-class citizens in the Soviet Union.
We were adults when we came over. My sister came with her husband and son, and I came with my husband and daughter. Then, about 17 years ago, we became business partners and opened our boutique in São Paulo. My sister Marina is a seamstress. She owned a custom clothing store but wanted to transition the business into retail. us [settled down in Minnesota] Because our cousin came here a year before my sister. Minnesota feels like home now: We’ve lived here longer than we lived in the Soviet Union. Our children grew up here and we built our business and community here. Our whole lives are here.
Now, the whole city is tired and angry. It’s exhausting hearing and seeing what’s going on every day. Things have gotten more intense since Christmas. Restaurants are closing because they want to protect their employees. Many events in the Twin Cities have been canceled. As a business owner, this is extremely challenging. Nowadays, people find it boring to go shopping because people are really miserable, stressed, and scared. The fashion and retail industries have always been affected by economics, politics and weather, but now, it feels very different.
Be alert when driving; you look for unusual or unmarked cars. The streets were deserted except for protesters and whistleblowers. Schools closed; children in St. Paul and Minneapolis began remote learning. My daughter works as a teacher in a private school and she has to be trained on how to protect children. It felt like a war zone. It felt like we were under siege.
We also have to make a choice: do we talk about [ICE]as a business, or do we continue business as usual? We decided to speak out that we would not continue to operate as usual. Our door is closed. We only accept visitors by appointment. We are located in the city center so there is a lot of activity around us. Feeling unsafe. Fashion is tricky because we sell luxury goods, not necessities. In times like these, we are the first to be affected financially. but we understand [we should be] part of this battle. An economic shutdown took place in Minnesota on Friday, leaving workers free to protest. We are involved because there is no other way to handle this situation.
My sister also went to a vigil in St. Paul on Saturday night, and my daughters and I went to a vigil in Minneapolis. The Minneapolis incident occurred two blocks away from the location [Alex Pretti was shot by Border Patrol agents]. The street where Alex was murdered is in an immigrant neighborhood. We call it “Food Street” because it has been a street with various ethnic restaurants since the early 1990s. There were maybe four or five miles of different businesses—Vietnam, Cambodia, Malaysia, Mexico, Jamaica. Minneapolis is extremely diverse, especially South Minneapolis, [the ICE raids are] is happening.
