The World is Watching

Milan stands with Minneapolis on the eve of the Olympic Games

I think it goes without saying that it’s been a rough few weeks in my home country of the United States. Federal immigration and customs enforcement (ICE) officers shot and killed not one, but two American citizens in Minneapolis in just 17 days.

Perhaps as a result of that, I’ve been flailing creatively. I wrote an entire post a week or so ago, but then scrapped it before publishing. It just didn’t quite say what it needed to say, and I couldn’t figure out how to fix it. I then started on another post, which is almost ready to go, but I haven’t been able to finish that one yet either.

But then…last Saturday happened.

The choir I sing in had been invited to perform “Bella Ciao,” the renowned Italian resistance anthem, at the end of an anti-ICE protest in Milan on the Saturday before the XXV Winter Olympic Games begin. It all came together on pretty short notice, and I almost didn’t go. I had planned to be out of town for the weekend, but I thought, “Well, my fellow choir members—who have welcomed me as an American into their midst with open arms—are going to spend their Saturday afternoon protesting my government’s abuses. I need to be there with them.” So I changed my plans.

The gathering was to be held in Piazza XXV Aprile, a square named for April 25, which was the date in 1945 (now known as Liberation Day) that the Italian resistance movement triumphed against Nazi Germany and its puppet state, led by Italian dictator Benito Mussolini.

I didn’t expect much from the protest, to be frank. Maybe 150 people. A quick one-and-done. But when I was still two blocks away, I could already hear the whistles blowing. The closer I got, the more I realized that there were a LOT of people there; I would guess at least 10 times as many as I had expected.¹

As I joined the crowd, the whistles—blown in solidarity with the “ICE watchers” in Minneapolis—were deafening. Thankfully I carry earplugs in my backpack, so I promptly made use of them.

The crowd appeared to be nearly all Italians, but I did run into maybe a couple dozen members of Democrats Abroad, an organization for Americans living outside the U.S. that my husband and I are involved with.

The protest was a wild ride for me, emotionally. It was moving and inspiring and heartbreaking. I was thankful to see so many people on the other side of the world paying attention to what is happening in my country, but it is shameful and deeply disturbing to know that they’re paying attention because what is happening is horrific.

It is a strange time to be an American living overseas. On one hand, I’m very grateful I am not in the U.S. while ICE is terrorizing Minneapolis and other cities. On the other hand, as I discussed last night with two new American neighbors, there are constant feelings of sadness and guilt that we are not there to stand alongside those fighting against Trump’s authoritarian regime. Andrew and I have more than half a dozen family and friends living in Minneapolis, and I find myself thinking about them pretty much all the time.

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Lyrics from Bruce Springsteen’s “Streets of Minneapolis”

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I was surprised not just by how many people turned out, but by how strongly they seemed to feel about the situation. Italians are watching what is happening in America, and they do not like what they see.²

Italy is a country that is painfully familiar with fascism, as I have written about before. Reminders of WWII are everywhere here: monuments and memorials, and buildings still scarred by bullet holes. The Italian people have seen this movie before, and they know it doesn’t end well. They expect better from America.

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Photo of me by Gianluca Trezzi

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There were many times during the protest that I had tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. It was very heartening to see so many people of all ages giving up part of their weekend to take a public stand. I kept thinking to myself, “This is the way we will defeat this threat: by people coming together en masse to say, “This is not normal. This is not right. THIS HAS TO STOP.”

There were so many people there that it was challenging to move around. In the end, my choir did not even sing; the crowd was simply too large and too noisy for us to be heard.

The Protest Heard Round the World

The demonstration received widespread media coverage, not just throughout Italy but literally around the world. Stories about it ran on NPR, The Washington Post, CNN, Fox News, the Associated Press, and The Guardian (UK). My sister-in-law texted from Australia to say that there was a piece about it in The Sydney Morning Herald.

I myself was unexpectedly approached for an interview by a journalist from La Stampa, an Italian newspaper. Footage of my interview was published on their website; my segment is near the beginning of this video clip. Bruno from my choir texted to say that he’d also seen me on Italian TV news.

Doing What We Can—Together

When I was a boy of maybe 10 or 12, my family went swimming at a small nearby lake. It was a hot summer day, and we were all enjoying the water and sunshine. Suddenly I heard a commotion, as a panicked mother shouted out to those around her that her young son was missing.

What I remember about the scene some 40+ years later is the way seemingly everyone sprang into action. After getting a description of the boy, people split up to go look for him. Some went to the parking lot, others to the playground. Those still on the beach formed a human “chain” and began wading through the waters, hand in hand, in a coordinated effort to find the boy’s body, should he have drowned.

I remember the eerie stillness of the adults present, as they contemplated the seriousness of the situation. I was frightened. Time seemed to move in slow motion as everyone hoped and prayed for a happy ending to what is surely every parent’s nightmare.

In the end, we did get a happy ending. The boy had not drowned or been kidnapped; he’d merely wandered off. But that day has stuck in my head for more than four decades because of how dozens of strangers immediately banded together to help out those who were in crisis.

I thought of this story late last night as I was walking home in the cold rain from choir practice. I realized that the people from the lake that summer day many years ago reminded me of the people at the ICE protest last Saturday. They were ordinary people who saw a need and responded accordingly, doing what they could, together. Just like the people of Minneapolis have been doing for weeks now: showing up for their neighbors.

None of us knows how the situation in the United States will turn out. There’s a long fight ahead, and it may not ultimately have a happy ending; it’s far too soon to tell. But we’re doing what we can, regardless. If you haven’t already, I sure hope you’ll join us.

One simple way you can take a stand is to march in the next “No Kings” protest, which will be held on Saturday, March 28. The last such event, in October 2025, drew an estimated seven million people worldwide (including here in Milan). Given the dire state of things, organizers are obviously hoping the next march will be even bigger. There will be peaceful, non-violent events held throughout the United States—in all 50 states—and in many countries around the world, in small towns, sprawling suburbs, and big cities alike. Details are still coming together, as the event was only recently announced, but for now please save the date and check the official website for more information about an event near you. (Or for how you can host an event!)

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The Way They See It

I thought I’d close this piece by sharing quotes from a few of those who were in attendance on Saturday.

As reported by NPR:

“All the videos are public and everyone can see what’s happening,” said Bruna Scanziani, age 18, who held up a sign with photographs of Renee Good and Alex Pretti, two American citizens killed by ICE agents. “The perception of America has changed.”

“This is a militia that kills, a militia that enters into the homes of people, signing their own permission slips,” Milan Mayor Giuseppe Sala told local media last week. “It is clear they are not welcome in Milan, without a doubt.”

That view was shared by Francesco Tattoni, who said he attended Saturday’s protest in Milan, in part to show solidarity with people in Minneapolis. “I don’t like what’s happening with ICE. I don’t want that to come here to Italy,” Tattoni said. “We believe they are doing the same thing the fascists were doing in the 1930s and 1940s.”

As reported by Newsday:

Protester Silvana Grassi held a sign that read “ICE = Gestapo.” She said the scenes of ICE agents in Minneapolis shooting and killing protesters and detaining children were deeply upsetting. “It makes me want to cry to think of it,’’ Grassi said. “It’s too terrible. How did they elect such a terrible, evil man?’’

As reported by Il Sole 24 Ore:

“I feel good in this piazza; it’s important and symbolic to be here. It’s our way of saying that ICE is unacceptable, a militia that travels anonymously with its face covered, that arrests indiscriminately and kills. Since we can’t demonstrate in Minneapolis, we’ll do it here,” said Mario Calabresi, former editor of La Repubblica.

As reported by Milano Today:

“There is no habituation, and there never will be, to the images coming from Minneapolis. We will never resign ourselves to a world where the bully has the final say, where a five-year-old child is arrested to act as bait to capture his father. It’s a world that disgusts us.” - Luca Paladini, regional councilor

“We stand with the movement in Minneapolis and other US states denouncing the murders committed by ICE agents and courageously fighting for [immigrant] rights. We stand in solidarity…” - Matteo Prencipe, regional secretary, and Nadia Rosa, provincial secretary of the CRP

“From the spirit of Minneapolis to the streets around the world, we choose to stand with those who defend human dignity, freedom of movement, and respect for fundamental rights.” - the Five Star Movement in Milan

(I ran a number of the quotes above through Google Translate, since non parlo ancora molto bene l’italiano. 🙃)

All photographs © 2026 Michael TenBrink, except where noted. All rights reserved.

1. Attendance estimates later published ranged from “hundreds” up to 20,000.

2. The sign I saw most frequently throughout the afternoon read simply “FUCK ICE.”