As confrontations with ICE flare across the country, bystanders with cell phones have proved a vital and powerful element in capturing the violence and chaos being unleashed.
Regular citizens have, in recent weeks, recorded agents interrogating U.S. citizens while pumping gas, pulling activists from their cars, stomping on Mexican flags, pulling rifles on crowds or handguns at protesters’ heads, taking pictures of activists’ license plates and detaining a five-year-old girl with autism.
And, of course, they have also captured the shooting deaths of Renee Good and Alex Pretti, footage that has sparked rallies and shutdowns throughout the U.S. Last Friday, dozens of local businesses closed their doors in solidarity with the call for a national shutdown and general strike as hundreds of Clevelanders marched on Public Square to eulogize Pretti and protest ICE’s alleged violations of the Constitution.
The rising tensions has made it even more clear that if you’re going to be out interacting with ICE agents — protesting, recording their movements, etc. — you should probably be ready for things to go sideways.
“We’ve seen very, very clearly what trouble somebody can get into when holding a phone and helping somebody up off the sidewalk,” Paula Kampf, an immigration advocate with decades of experience, said recently. “We’ve seen that this can turn tragic.”
All while “knowing that the America we’re living in right now doesn’t necessarily have people living by the law,” she said, “and a whole bunch of them are doing that on behalf of the federal government.”
Kampf was speaking lately in front of a group of 20 at a small church on the west side where she’s been hosting an ICE Watch Training on behalf of Whistle Brigade Cleveland, a grassroots pro-immigration group she co-founded in January in response to escalating actions between immigration agents and civilians. In Cleveland, ICE made 266 arrests from January to October last year, data provided to Scene shows, with huge spikes in June.
For about two hours on a recent Wednesday, Kampf led attendees through a seminar somewhere in the tonal middle of underground college lecture and citizen journalist academy.
The lessons could safe lives, she said. Keep a guarded and ready phone (fully charged). Film ICE agents in public, capturing weapons carried and badge numbers. When you see agents? Make sure to blow your whistle. (Short blasts if ICE is lurking; continuous blows if ICE is detaining someone. “Form a crowd,” a pamphlet read. “Stay loud.”)
“Be as specific as possible,” Kampf, dressed in a black sweater and glasses, said in between two screens showing a powerpoint presentation.
“Your location. Their uniform and clothes that you’re seeing them wear. What words or images are on their clothing,” she said. “Include stuff like headgear. Include stuff like masks, gators, scarves. Include things like what footwear they have on. As much of that as you can observe and take note of.”
Kampf’s lecture, like those held in Springfield or with Cleveland’s InterReligious Task Force, brings up pressing procedural concerns.
Whistle Brigade’s weekly trainings navigate a fine line. Its goal is to prevent another protester from ending up like Good and Pretti while still working to keep ICE agents accountable. After all, federal agents can’t use their guns to stop fleeing suspects, as retaliation or as a warning shot, DHS policy states. Firearms, it says, are a last resort.
But the law or policy, activists have come to preach, are just the law and policy. It didn’t stop Pretti from being shot in the back 10 times on the streets of Minneapolis.
“It’s honestly a shift in the way people see the supposed protective voices of the government,” Sean, an activist working with the Cleveland chapter of the Party for Socialism and Liberation, told Scene during a protest on Public Square.
“I see it as people kind of realizing where they stand,” he added, “and understanding that the forces of ICE aren’t here to try and protect us under any type of guise of, like, public safety.”
In other words, reality. That feeling—that you could be shot next—pervaded the church pews at Kampf’s recent training seminar. Be sure to speak clearly with an open chest, she said, demonstrating. Use deep breaths. Don’t interrupt any arguments. Don’t spit, swear, resist. Do not run away.
Kampf walked up and down the pews as the 20 in attendance, all white people in sweaters and coats, took notes or worried at their whistles.
“We need to memorize these before we get into situations,” Kampf said. “‘I do not consent to a search. I want to talk to an attorney. I am exercising’—and this is the most ironic one of all—‘I am exercising my right to remain silent.’”
“Let’s say that together,” she said. Kampf raised her hands like a conductor.
“I am exercising my right to remain silent,” the room echoed.
“Let’s hear it one more time,” she said. “Again.”
“I am exercising my right to remain silent,” the room repeated.
Kampf returned to the front of the pews. She held up a stack of red cards with a handful of phrases on them.
“Keep this handy; look at it again and again,” Kampf said. “Practice this reguarly so that you’ll be ready to use them.”
Subscribe to Cleveland Scene newsletters.
Follow us: Google News | NewsBreak | Reddit | Instagram | Facebook | Twitter