Minneapolis, January 7, 2026

for Renee Nicole Good

A vigil,

thousands of people in the street.

This is Minneapolis.

We know how to show up

after an event like this,

like this morning’s

murder of a nonviolent witness

by an ICE agent

after the kidnapping of a parent

outside the neighborhood

elementary school.

Warm coats, sturdy boots

signs, candles, prayers, tears

and a healthy dose of holy rage.

Some of us in clergy collars,

ten or so in Handmaid’s Tale 

red cloaks and white bonnets.

Speakers are Latinx, Somali, Indigenous, and more.

Organizers, an elected official, 

leaders of community organizations.

White allies are present but not centered,

exactly as it should be.

We are led in chants between speakers

mostly in English, sometimes in Spanish.

“Show me what community looks like!”

“This is what community looks like!”

“Aquí estamos, y no nos vamos!”

“Aquí estamos, y no nos vamos!”

Indigenous singers at the speakers’ mic

with a song for healing,

and indigenous people burning sage

just in front of where we stand,

across the street from the speakers,

part of a crowd that fills the block

and perhaps beyond where we can see

as night falls.

A speaker calls for a moment of silence

to honor Renee.

In the sudden hush

we hear helicopter blades

whirring above us.

There have been at least two circling

throughout the vigil.

Media, or law enforcement? Both?

Drones, too.

Another speaker asks the crowd 

to please land any personal drones

as they are not contributing to a sense of safety.

“Who keeps us safe?”

“We keep us safe!”

We are eight blocks

(and a little more than five and a half years)

from George Floyd Square

another murder by “law enforcement”

another street that became

holy ground.

“Say her name!”

“Renee Good!”

“Say her name!”

“Renee Good!”

“Say her name!”

“Renee Good!”

~Diana K. McLean 1/7/2026