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Minnesota's artists aren't that different from artists anywhere, but there are some unique parts of Minnesota's ecosystem that explain the breadth and depth of the creative response to the federal immigration enforcement surge.
Two thousand of us were standing on a frozen lake in the dark.
My mittened hand was gripping the mittened hand of a stranger; tears were freezing on my cheeks. It was not a particularly Minnesotan thing to hold hands with a stranger, especially while expressing emotion so openly. But we were not in normal times.
We were there to light ice lanterns, to spell out "ICE OUT" on the lake in the hopes that the planes flying above would see our message. After long days of school patrols, protests, grocery deliveries, and trying to figure out how to raise more money to help neighbors pay rent, we needed to be together in person. We needed to sing, we needed to move, we needed to feel. And so we did, led in a call-and-response by Brass Solidarity, a community brass band: "Hold on, change is coming!" It was powerful and beautiful and deeply connected to our culture, holding this community together. This is what a creative response looks like when artists are already woven into the fabric of a community before the crisis arrives.
This Sunday, May 31, the people of the Twin Cities will accept the John F. Kennedy Profile in Courage Award in Boston, an honor previously awarded to former Vice President Mike Pence and the September 11 first responders. The Kennedy Foundation cited the neighbors who risked their safety to protect their community from an unprecedented federal law enforcement operation: the 30,000 who trained as observers and rapid responders; the schools that organized patrols; the parent group chats, book clubs, and faith groups that became webs of mutual aid, delivering groceries, raising rent and legal funds for neighbors trapped in their homes.
It is not just what Minnesotans did in this crisis. It is what they had already built: a state that had spent decades recognizing artists not as a luxury or an afterthought, but as neighbors with something essential to contribute.
Journalists and historians have spent months trying to explain why Minnesota responded as it did. Was it the history of the cooperative movement that helped build a state where people looked out for one another? Or the recovery community and the Minnesota Model's belief that people heal together? Almost no one has asked why the artists were ready. That's what I want to share.
Minnesota's artists aren't that different from artists anywhere. But there are some unique parts of Minnesota's ecosystem that explain the breadth and depth of the creative response here.
Minnesota spends more on the arts per capita than any other state, $9.67 per person, backed by the Legacy Amendment, a 25-year constitutional commitment to the state's arts and cultural heritage, alongside other quality of life investments like clean water, parks, and trails. That's not a program. That's a value system encoded into law. A blend of public support and private philanthropy has built statewide artist fellowship programs, regional arts councils serving every county, and local governments that regularly hire artists to address community challenges. The nation's longest-running Guaranteed Income Pilot for Artists, launched in Minnesota with private funds, gives artists a monthly stipend with no strings attached. Participants have reported volunteering more, deepening their roots in their communities, and taking on creative work they never could have afforded before.
But money alone doesn't explain what happened here. Minnesota’s arts support is rooted within an ecosystem of support for organizers, activists, and community leaders, creating an arts community with a deep understanding of the skills, values, and ethics of effective community work. Artists in Minnesota view their artistry as integral to, not separate from, their identity as a neighbor and community member.
In 2013, when St. Paul installed a new light rail line, hundreds of artists were engaged alongside businesses and community groups on the construction corridor, turning disruption into connection. Those artists didn't just make murals. They staged performances, built installations, and animated storefronts. They learned who worked at City Hall. They built relationships with power structures. Because artists in Minnesota have had numerous opportunities like this to bring their creativity to critical community issues, and had spent years doing that work, they weren't strangers to this movement. They were already inside it.
Drive down any street in the Twin Cities today, and you will see house after house with signs: "ICE Out." "We Keep Us Safe." "We Love Our Immigrant Neighbors." Nearly all are artist designed, many of them handmade prints. This doesn’t only represent the beauty and creativity that artists bring to a movement, but also symbolizes a movement that has turned away from mass production and corporate extraction, and toward the handmade and the local. As Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents photograph us and catalog our faces in AI databases built for harassment and intimidation, artists like Sean Lim, Marlena Myles, and D Guzman have worked through the night to generate human-made expressions of resistance.
This is what Minnesota's artists have been doing for months: showing up, leading, organizing, making the movement visible and felt. Thousands gathered in the cold with Singing Resistance to send a message to ICE agents that they could change their minds and join a loving community. Their tactics were rooted in Otpor, the student movement that brought down Slobodan Milosevic's authoritarian regime in 1990s Serbia by spreading one simple message: "You might not join us today, but you can join us tomorrow." Singing Resistance is now sharing training tool kits with communities across the country.
Brass Solidarity, formed at George Floyd Square in 2020, has played at hundreds of gatherings, connecting this moment to the movement for Black lives and bringing joy and resolve to these spaces. Mixed Blood Theater has trained neighbors to speak clearly and confidently about their constitutional rights. Drummers have organized mass protests. Poets have told our story, including Renee Good, who was herself a poet. Art spaces and creative businesses have become food pantries, coat donation sites, and whistle distribution points. I've lost track of the sold-out cabarets, concerts, and pottery sales to benefit the immigrant legal aid and rental assistance, often appearing in hours, without marketing campaigns. Neighbors talk to neighbors.
The art being made for our community is happening outside the competition of grants, outside formal arts institutions, outside the commodification of collectors, outside the pressure for clicks. It is urgent and rooted in our community's needs. It feels sacred.
Many of Minnesota's artists put their lives on hold for months at great cost to their economic stability and at great risk to their safety. The thing I have said most when people outside Minnesota ask how I am: It is so much more terrifying than the media can show you. Every noise sounds like a whistle. Every unknown car could be bringing horror to our doorstep. The damage to our community's sense of safety will take years to repair.
But it is so much more beautiful than the media can show you, too.
There is a reason the Kennedy Foundation recognized the people of the Twin Cities with one of the most storied honors in American civic life. It is not just what Minnesotans did in this crisis. It is what they had already built: a state that had spent decades recognizing artists not as a luxury or an afterthought, but as neighbors with something essential to contribute, as vital to a community's health as any doctor, organizer, or teacher.
When the moment came, Minnesota's artists were ready, gathering us on frozen lakes, calling on us to hold hands with strangers, and spelling out in light for all the world to see what it means to take care of one another.
"Today's charges reflect an important milestone in our efforts to seek accountability for the harms inflicted on our community," said Hennepin County Attorney Mary Moriarty.
Prosecutors in Minnesota charged a federal immigration enforcement agent with assault on Thursday for pulling a gun on two local residents during a February traffic dispute.
The Hennepin County prosecutor's office charged US Immigration and Customs Enforcement officer Gregory Donnell Morgan Jr., a resident of Maryland, with two counts of felony assault for the incident that took place along Highway 62 on February 5.
During a press conference, Hennepin County Attorney Mary Moriarty alleged that Morgan was driving a rented, unmarked Ford Expedition illegally along the shoulder of Highway 62.
The alleged victims, objecting to Morgan illegally driving on the highway shoulder, swerved in front of him briefly to block him, then pulled back into the regular lane.
Morgan then allegedly sped up his vehicle, pulled up alongside the victims' car, and drew his gun on them.
Moriarty said that Morgan's alleged actions were unjustified and outside the course of his duties, which would be enough for the state to avoid violating the US Constitution's Supremacy Clause that prevents state governments from infringing upon the federal government's sovereignty.
"Our opinion is that illegally driving on a shoulder, pulling up to a car and pointing a gun at the heads of two community members who are not doing anything at the time, is well beyond the scope of their authority as federal agents," said Moriarty. "So they may say that, but we will litigate that in court. And there is no such thing as absolute immunity for federal agents who violate the law in the State of Minnesota or any other state."
Moriarty also brushed off concerns about the federal government retaliating against Minnesota for criminally charging ICE agents.
"Not a concern of ours," she said. "Our role, by the way, is to hold people accountable if they violate the laws of the state of Minnesota. And in this particular case, we feel strongly that this agent committed second-degree assault against both of these victims. We have charged the case and our intent is to hold them accountable."
Hennepin County Attorney Mary Moriarty: "Are we concerned as to whether there would be federal blowback? Not a concern of ours. Our role is to hold people accountable if they violate the laws of Minnesota. We feel strongly that this ICE agent committed 2nd degree assault." pic.twitter.com/G6aPyewU3q
— Aaron Rupar (@atrupar) April 16, 2026
The case against Morgan is the first state prosecution related to Operation Metro Surge, the federal immigration enforcement operation that targeted the Twin Cities earlier this year and generated unprecedented mass protests that included a one-day general strike.
Morgan's prosecution may also be a preview of future cases, as there have been calls for months to prosecute the federal immigration officers who fatally shot Minneapolis residents Renee Good and Alex Pretti.
While speaking with reporters, Moriarty emphasized that "today's charges reflect an important milestone in our efforts to seek accountability for the harms inflicted on our community during Operation Metro Surge," vowing "we will not rest until we get the answers we seek about federal agent conduct across Hennepin County, and accountability is delivered wherever appropriate."
Officials, said one observer, "are finally starting to call the terror ICE is inflicting on communities what it actually is: kidnapping."
Prosecutors in Minnesota are investigating whether some of the most infamous images of the Trump administration's immigration crackdown in the Twin Cities earlier this year actually captured a kidnapping, when US citizen ChongLy "Scott" Thao was filmed being taken from his home by federal agents in freezing temperatures, wearing only his underwear with a blanket wrapped around him.
Ramsey Country Attorney John Choi, whose jurisdiction covers Saint Paul, where Thao was arrested in January, said at a press conference Monday that he has requested information from the Department of Homeland Security about the man's arrest.
"There are many facts we don't know yet, but there's one that we do know. And that is that Mr. Thao is and has been an American citizen. There's not a dispute over that," Sheriff Bob Fletcher said at the press conference.
The officials said they are investigating whether the agents could face criminal charges for kidnapping, burglary, and false imprisonment.
US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents arrived without a warrant at the home Thao shares with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year-old grandson on January 18 and forced their way in, brandishing their guns at the family as they handcuffed Thao.
They did not allow Thao's daughter-in-law to get proof of his citizenship. The 56-year-old has been a US citizen for decades after his mother fled Laos in the 1970s.
“We believe there was no legitimate legal reason for the federal agents to enter that home, it was not supported by probable cause,” said Choi.
Without giving him a chance to get dressed, the agents then hauled Thao out of his home into the 14°F temperatures as his neighbors yelled and blew whistles at the officers, demanding his release.
ICE arrest of US CITIZEN probed as kidnapping
ChongLy ‘Scott’ Thao seized Jan 18 — agents smash down door, drag him out at gunpoint in underwear
'Potential case of kidnapping, burglary and false imprisonment' — officials pic.twitter.com/alsaq46bAz
— RT (@RT_com) April 14, 2026
They drove him around for nearly an hour before arriving at a remote area and demanding that he get out of the car and show his ID—which he hadn't been allowed to bring. They determined he was a US citizen with no criminal record and drove him back home.
Fletcher said federal agents switched the license plates of the vehicle used during the arrest, violating Minnesota law and leaving authorities with no knowledge of the identities of the officers who arrested Thao.
"There's no dispute that he was taken out of his house, forcibly taken out of his home, and driven around," said Fletcher at the press conference. "Is that good law enforcement, to take an American citizen out of their home and drive them around aimlessly, trying to determine what they can tell them?'"
One observer said the officials "are finally starting to call the terror ICE is inflicting on communities what it actually is: kidnapping."
"If regular people did this, they’d be in prison," they said. "So why aren’t the agents?"
In keeping with the Trump administration's response to widespread condemnation of its immigration crackdown and the conduct of its federal agents, DHS told The New York Times that Choi's investigation into the arrest was “a political stunt to demonize ICE law enforcement.”
The agency has claimed the officers were looking for two convicted sex offenders, one of whom has reportedly been in state prison since 2024.
Choi said Monday that there is no evidence the federal agents had a judicial warrant to enter Thao's home. The arrest took place days before a whistleblower group reported on an ICE memo which claimed that according to the DHS Office of the General Counsel, "the US Constitution, the Immigration and Nationality Act, and the immigration regulations do not prohibit relying on administrative warrants" in order to enter a home to make an arrest.
Legal experts have said the memo directly contradicts the Fourth Amendment, which prohibits unreasonable searches and seizures.