IN A SLIM VOLUME of poetry collected by a small town Minnesota independent bookstore and printed by a small town printer, 22 area poets raise their voices in response to the massive immigration enforcement efforts in Minnesota. The result is 26 powerful, empowering, strongly-worded poems that hold back nothing.
These poets unleash their fury, their fears, their frustrations, layers of intense emotions. “Let every poem be a witness,” writes my friend and former Northfield Poet Laureate Rob Hardy in his poem, “A Witness.” He writes that in the context of the fatal shooting of mother and poet, Renee Nicole Good, by a federal immigration agent on the streets of Minneapolis on January 7.
Every poem in this chapbook, Words to Meet the Moment: Poetry Against Fascism, is a witness.
Two poems, “Last Words” by Susan Jaret McKinstry and “I’m Not Mad at You” by Marie Gery, quote Renee Good’s final words—”I’m not mad at you”—spoken to a federal immigration agent right before her fatal shooting.
The words within these 26 poems reflect not only individual poets’ thoughts but also a collective community reaction to ICE in Minnesota. Themes of anger, fear, unity, dignity, hope and light run throughout this poetry.
I especially appreciate the writing of two immigrants, including my friend Mar Valdecantos, who came to the U.S. from Spain many years ago. She uses humor to make a point, stating that perhaps she should cover her dark hair with a blonde wig. That would allow her to semi hide her ethnicity and allow her to feel safer while out and about in the community. Safe against racial profiling, used freely by immigration agents to stop people of color in Minnesota.
Latino immigrant Heriberto Rosas, in “Minnesota es un lugar de contrastes,” writes of whence and why he came to America, the challenges he and other immigrants have faced, and the hope and gratitude they hold. It’s an especially revealing poem written in Spanish and translated into English on the opposite page.
My poet friend D.E. (Doug) Green also writes “hope” into his poem, “A Bridge Too Far,” as he references the Civil Rights Movement and the bridge crossed, literally, “in the face of violence, cruelty and terrible hatred.” A bridge which must once again be crossed.
These poems are raw, relentless, sometimes raging in content. That includes my “Fiery Resistance” and “Death of a Poet.” Words hold power. “We the people have a job to do,” writes Orick Peterson in “ICE Prowls Our Streets.” He asks us to muster our courage against the bullies, take on our neighbors’ fears, lean into each other.
Steve McCown, who died unexpectedly on the day he was to read his original poem, “Ice and Fire,” at a “Words to Meet the Moment: Poetry Against Fascism” event on January 18 in Northfield, summarizes everything well in the final line of his poem: “We can build a fire on ice.” Let me repeat his final line, with emphasis: “We can build a fire on ice.”
FYI: The 42-page chapbook, Words to Meet the Moment: Poetry Against Fascism, is for sale only at Content Bookstore in Northfield. Cost is $10. The bookstore will ship domestically at a cost of $4.99, the media mail book rate, with an additional $1 charge for each book ordered.
Content Bookstore published the chapbook with printing By All Means Graphics. The original print run is 300 books. Once expenses are paid, proceeds from sale of the chapbook will go to the Northfield Community Action Center.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
ICE OUT, a photo essay & commentary from Minnesota February 13, 2026
Tags: businesses, commentary, Content Bookstore, Division Street, Governor Tim Walz, ICE OUT, immigration, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, Minnesota, Minnesota Strong, news, Northfield, photo essay, photography, signs, strength
THE DAY AFTER BORDER CZAR (anyone dislike that title as much as me?) Tom Homan announced a draw-down of federal immigration agents in Minnesota, I’m feeling, as Governor Tim Walz said, “cautiously optimistic.” Recent history has proven that we can’t necessarily believe or trust what federal government officials tell us. But I’m trying to be hopeful.
For more than two months, 3,000 immigration enforcement agents have been working in Minnesota. And if anyone still believes that they are/were doing only targeted enforcement, arresting “the worst of the worst,” then I have some lakefront property to sell you.
Let’s go back to Thursday morning, when Homan made his draw-down announcement complete with praise for his agents and the success of their mission in Minnesota. I couldn’t listen any more. I’d heard enough.
I had an appointment in neighboring Northfield anyway so off I went to this college town that, like Faribault, has been recently inundated by ICE. Except in Northfield, a decidedly blue city, the business community is publicly vocal about its opposition to ICE’s presence unlike in my decidedly red city.
In the heart of downtown Northfield, on one side of a block along Division Street, nearly every business has posted an anti-ICE sign and/or uplifting signage. I felt the strength of those shopkeepers willing to stand up for and encourage others. There’s power in raising united voices in opposition to wrong.
Inside Content Bookstore, where I stopped to shop for a baby shower gift, I discovered even more messaging and ways in which the Northfield community is stepping up to help their immigrant neighbors, including children affected by ICE’s actions. Monies from the sale of Minnesota state flag and “Rebel Loon” (our state bird) stickers will go toward books and activities for those kids. Content is also collaborating on a poetry chapbook, Words to Meet the Moment: Poetry Against Fascism, releasing soon.
As ICE supposedly ends Operation Metro Surge in Minnesota (which also encompassed cities and small towns outside the metro like my city of 25,000), we are left with a mess. Let me define that. The personal toll is huge. Trauma has been inflicted upon thousands. “Generational trauma,” Governor Walz said.
I worry about the kids who witnessed family members being taken or who saw armed, masked immigration officers with guns outside their schools (with classmates taken by ICE), outside their daycares, outside or inside their homes, at their bus stops, on the streets. It’s hard enough for adults to see such threatening power, aggression and use of excessive force. But our children? The mental health of all Minnesotans concerns me, especially that of the youngest among us.
And then there is the financial fall-out with people now unable to pay their bills, including rent, facing eviction because they haven’t gone to work out of fear of ICE. Again, legal status matters not as anyone with brown or black skin has been targeted. These same individuals and families have relied on community members and nonprofits to help with rent payments and to bring them groceries. This is not long-term sustainable.
Until we are all confident that ICE is really, truly gone and is doing only targeted enforcement of “the worst of the worst,” we will all remain on edge. Rebuilding trust, restoring life to normalcy will assuredly take time.
Likewise, the Minnesota economy has suffered severe damage, especially small businesses. Governor Walz has proposed a $10 million forgivable loan recovery plan to help the business community and is also hoping for help from the federal government. Good luck with that.
While in Northfield on Thursday, I learned that ICE agents recently went along Division Street, asking for employment records at some businesses. I don’t know details. But in my mind, I envision these armed, masked officers as a threatening presence in the heart of this picturesque, riverside American city. This community doesn’t back down from threats. In September 1876, townsfolk stopped the James-Younger Gang from robbing the First National Bank. Northfield is a community which cares for one another and which, in the midst of a federal invasion, has stood, is still standing, Minnesota Strong.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling