By: John Imsdahl, Writer/Reporter

“You got this—just walk like a penguin, do the penguin shuffle,” a woman encouraged the small group of marchers around her, all making their way to Powderhorn Park, still blocks away. The sidewalks were treacherous, the result of this week’s rain and a sharp drop in temperatures. These were conditions that would usually keep people off the streets, but not on this day.

Nearby, an elderly couple made their way gingerly over the frozen, uneven ground, holding on to each other for support. The couple appeared to be struggling with the conditions but moved forward slowly and steadily anyway. They were soon joined by a few others until they numbered around a dozen.

At each intersection the number of demonstrators grew. Minneapolis had come out in force, braving temperatures that barely rose above 20 degrees Fahrenheit. By the time we reached the park boundary, the scattered groups had coalesced into solid lines, filling the walking paths with a steady stream of people stretching clear across the park. What had been dozens were now hundreds.

Overhead multiple helicopters circled—as did a solitary bald eagle. From across the park we heard the muffled sounds of a bullhorn, as well as sporadic cheering from the growing crowd. As more and more people converged on the park, the hundreds became thousands.

On a Saturday in January, Powderhorn Park would normally be covered by sledders and skiers, but today was filled with people—not out for recreation but for demonstration. Many were carrying signs, some poignant and some profane, one saying simply: “Read the Diary of Anne Frank”. Another sign read “I’m not paid to be here, I hate Nazis for free” a reference to unfounded conspiracy theories often echoed by President Donald Trump, 79, and his administration that protesters are being paid to be there.

The most common signs referenced Renee Good, who was murdered by an ICE officer just blocks from the park, while serving as a volunteer legal observer. “Keep ICE out for Good”, and “Justice For Renee” signs were numerous and many other signs bore her image. A number of signs were attached to hockey sticks, which seemed more than fitting for a protest in Minnesota.

By 1:30pm or so the speeches had ended and some members of the crowd left the park to march toward Lake Street, but many stayed. Brass Solidarity, a jazz band formed after the death of George Floyd, played their signature brand of standard protest chants and lyrics layered over New Orleans jazz-funk standards.

By the time we left the park around 2:30pm there were still hundreds, if not thousands of people continuing to demonstrate. Stragglers were continuing to make their way to the park from all directions. A final observation that I had while leaving the park was a small group of neighbors helping people around and working with hand tools to chip away at a patch of slippery ice that was covering a particularly dangerous portion of the path. This small moment felt like a microcosm of Minnesota itself—neighbors coming together to help one another against any ICE that threatens them.