Scenes From the January 24 ICE Protest in NYC

Eye-level view of the iconic skyline of Los Angeles

By the time I arrived in Lower Manhattan, the cold had already settled into people’s bones.

The wind cut sharply through Foley Square and Union Square as thousands of demonstrators gathered across downtown Manhattan on Jan. 24 to protest ICE operations and the recent killing of Minneapolis ICU nurse Alex Pretti by federal agents. Protesters wore thick coats, scarves wrapped over their faces, knit hats pulled low against the freezing air. Salt and frost coated the stone pavement beneath the crowd.

The mood was furious, grieving, surreal, and at moments unexpectedly funny.

Hours earlier, videos from Minneapolis had spread rapidly online, showing masked federal agents shooting Pretti multiple times after he intervened while officers detained a woman during an immigration operation. The footage contradicted early federal claims that Pretti had threatened agents with a firearm. In the videos circulating online, the gun appears concealed in his waistband before agents wrestled him to the ground and opened fire.

By late afternoon, the outrage had spilled into New York City streets.

At Foley Square, protesters packed tightly together behind handmade signs reading “Abolish ICE,” “Stop ICE,” and “Enough With the Fascist Bullshit!” One large cardboard sign held above the crowd read: “We Are All Aliens on Stolen Land” in fluorescent green and orange lettering. Nearby, another protester carried a crudely painted sign that simply read “WAKE UP! NYC RESIST!” in dripping red spray paint.

The signs reflected the chaotic visual language of the protest itself: part anger, part internet meme, part political emergency.

One marcher wore an inflatable lime-green alien costume with oversized cartoon eyes while standing beneath the “We Are All Aliens” sign, drawing laughs and photos from people nearby even as chants against ICE echoed across the square. Another protester held a hand-drawn sign featuring a sad blue cartoon character above the words “Fuuuuuck ICE,” the elongated lettering stretching almost comically across the cardboard.

A masked drummer in a neon pink ski mask and black leather jacket moved through the crowd striking a snare drum strapped to his chest, the metallic rhythm cutting through chants and traffic noise. His drum was covered in stickers, including anti-Trump graphics and horror-inspired imagery, giving him the appearance of a punk character pulled directly out of downtown New York protest history.

As the sun began setting, demonstrators chanted:

“No ICE, no KKK, no fascist USA!”

“Abolish ICE!”

“Chinga la migra!”

The crowd moved north through Manhattan, weaving through slushy intersections and temporarily stalling traffic. Drivers leaned on their horns in solidarity while pedestrians stopped to film the procession on their phones.

The protest drew a wide cross-section of New Yorkers: students, immigrant families, longtime organizers, artists, punks, and workers leaving shifts still dressed in winter work gear. Some people carried candles. Others carried whistles or portable speakers blasting music between chants.

I overheard one young protester telling a friend they had skipped classes all day to attend. Another marcher who had just arrived from Minneapolis described the atmosphere there as “heartbroken and enraged.”

Throughout the evening, the names Alex Pretti and Renee Nicole Good, another civilian killed during a previous immigration operation earlier this month, resurfaced constantly in speeches and conversations.

At Union Square later that evening, organizers with Hands Off NYC and the New York Immigration Coalition framed the demonstration not as an isolated protest, but as part of a rapidly escalating national movement against federal immigration enforcement tactics.

The demonstration eventually pushed north toward Madison Square Park, where protesters continued chanting under floodlights and police helicopters circling overhead.

Even as temperatures continued dropping, few people seemed willing to leave.

What struck me most standing in the crowd was not just the anger, but the strange mix of sincerity, internet culture, performance, and political grief that defined the atmosphere. Protesters communicated through handmade aesthetics as much as speeches: fluorescent cardboard, meme drawings, inflatable costumes, punk percussion, and aggressively scrawled slogans held high against the Manhattan skyline.

By the end of the night, the streets around the park were still filled with marchers bundled against the cold, chanting into the dark winter air while signs bobbed above the crowd like fragments of a collective nervous system suddenly made visible.