On the ground with thousands of protesters at the general strike in Minneapolis

It was too cold to take off my gloves and check Google Maps, so I put my trust in the few people gathered in front of me. They all carried signs and wore whistles around their necks over layers and layers of winter clothing. At first there were dozens of us walking toward Government Square, across the street from Minneapolis City Hall, and there were hundreds of us a block away. When I arrived, the number was in the thousands. Some reports said five to ten thousand, but on the ground, it felt like one shaking mass too big to count.

I made my way through the crowd, repeating “excuse me” and “excuse me” over the noise because the people here are above all unfailingly polite. Someone offered me a “Fuck ICE” pin. Someone else offered me a chocolate chip cookie. He gave me another red vuvuzela. The three refused to reveal their names or be interviewed.

Friday, January 30, was the second general strike in the Twin Cities since then Alex Pretty was killed by federal immigration officers. This was it It is said that it was organized By Somali and black student groups at the University of Minnesota. Unlike the first strike, which was organized last week and supported by local unions, this Friday was organized faster than the first economic blackout. I heard murmurs about a lower turnout this time, which was difficult to reconcile with the fact that the square was so crowded that I didn’t understand how more people could fit. Yet Minnesotans kept coming. The light rail car stopped and through the windows I saw the people inside standing side by side, pushing out and somehow filling a space that wasn’t there.

“Minnesota is no longer nice,” they chanted, “Minneapolis will strike.”

In contrast to the ongoing protests outside the Whipple Federal Building, the staging area from which ICE agents leave in unmarked cars to chase migrants, the mood at the City Hall rally was almost jubilant, despite the omnipresent undercurrent of anger and terror here. In Whipple, people jeer and scream at federal agents and local sheriff’s deputies alike, their taunts often met with flash bangs and pepper spray. Today, there appears to be no such danger at the City Council caucus, but if Minneapolis residents have learned anything over the past few weeks, it is that danger lurks around every corner. You could be sitting in your car and killed by a federal agent. You could be under ICE surveillance and get killed by a federal agent. You can protest Which Murder and arrest by federal agents. You could be walking or driving to work and be kidnapped by a federal agent. You can blow a whistle to alert your neighbors that federal agents are snatching someone off the street, and you’ll end up, at the very least, being pepper-sprayed by a federal agent. Paramedics were walking around preparing for the worst.

Helicopters flew overhead. Volunteer guards in neon jackets, stationed at nearly every entrance and street corner, directed the crowd. Someone warned me about the ice; I didn’t hear her and slipped, but a woman behind me caught my fall.