Renee Good’s Death Is a Story About Fear — and What We’re Willing to Do to Each Other

Written by Jack Hassard

On January 15, 2026

I don’t know Renee Nicole Good. But I’ve seen her face on screens across the country — a mother of three, a poet, a neighbor, a human being whose life was cut short on a Minneapolis street by a federal agent’s bullet. You can read two poems honoring Renee here.

Current image: beverage in cup next to open book
Renee Nicole Brown was a poet. Read two poems honoring her.

What I do know is this: the shockwaves from that moment have made millions of Americans ask a question most of us never thought we’d be asking again in 2026 — are we watching our own government treat its people as if their lives are expendable? If you listen to the U.S. President, that is exactly what he means. 

That question is not abstract.

It’s in the faces of tens of thousands of people. They poured into the streets in Minneapolis, Seattle, Philadelphia, Southern California, Chicago, Boston, New York, and scores of other cities. They chanted her name. And they marched under banners like “Justice for Renee Good” and “ICE Out For Good.” And they stood shoulder to shoulder with neighbors they had never met. They were united not just in grief, but in fear.

They marched because what happened to Renee have happened to any of them.

What happened was this:

On January 7, 2026, an ICE agent shot and killed a 37-year-old U.S. citizen— less than a mile from where the world watched George Floyd die. That fact alone gives this moment a heavy, historical resonance. But it was how it happened, and the unanswered questions around it, that has driven the outpouring of protest and anguish.

Video footage, (which I and millions of Americans have viewed), shared widely shows an ICE agent firing into Renee’s SUV — near her children’s school, near her home, with her dog in the backseat, and her wife standing outside filming the incident.

The federal government’s first characterization has been widely disputed. They claimed that she “weaponized her vehicle” and that the use of force was justified. Minnesota’s mayor and other local officials have also disputed this characterization.  She was also called a “domestic terrorist” by Homeland Secretary Noem. And Trump added that she acted disrespectful.

And in the days since, the tone of the federal response has only deepened public distress. A White House press secretary called her a “lunatic.” Top officials have rushed to defend the agent’s actions. This happened before a full, independent investigation even took place.

For many Americans watching this unfold, that defensive posture is chilling. The instinct to protect a government agent comes before seeking truth. This feels eerily familiar to communities that have long endured police killings without accountability.

That’s why people took to the streets.

That’s why activists organized more than a thousand events nationwide under the banner “ICE Out For Good.” For many, this is about more than one tragic moment. It’s about the systemic force used against everyday people who live in American neighborhoods.

The New York Times (Local Outrage Propels Cities to Resist ICE) reported that ICE’s crackdown in Minneapolis has enraged people. Organized resistance brings people into online and whistle networks. Julie Bosman, author of the cited NYT article, notes that people in small neighborhoods were defiant against ICE. They had no ties to organized resistance groups. “They placed ‘Hands off Chicago’ signs adorned with the city’s beloved starred-and-striped flag prominently in windows of restaurants and bungalows.”

And the protests have been broad, not marginal. Tens of thousands turned up in Minneapolis. Meanwhile, hundreds of other demonstrations erupted from Albuquerque to Atlanta and from Oakland to Kansas City.

These are not fringe rallies. These are citizens — Black, white, immigrant, native-born — expressing deep unease about how federal immigration enforcement is unfolding. When people feel they must march in cities across the country, it is not a random coincidence. It is a collective message.

Trump, Miller, Noem, and others in the administration have called the protesters domestic terrorists. Oddly, many see ICE as the terrorists who swarm neighborhoods. They sometimes use 20 or so ICE agents to storm a home to try and capture one person. And one other tidbit here. Trump announced over the past few days that he supports the protesters, (in Iran!).

Some critics will say protests are just politics. But that would be to miss the core of what’s happening.

This isn’t about left vs. right. This is about whether those entrusted with public safety can ever use lethal force without transparency. They must also have accountability and community consent.

It’s about what it feels like when a mother’s life is taken in broad daylight, and the immediate narrative from federal leaders is justify the shooter, not mourn the deceased.

Renee’s family, in public statements this week, has urged empathy and compassion. They humanized her as a devoted mom and poet. Her life was full of meaning and love. That plea for humanity cuts through the political noise in a way that should give us all pause.

As a nation, we have struggled for decades with how to balance public safety with civil liberties. We have grappled with police use of force. We have confronted systemic injustices. And we face another test now. This time, it is not just in local precincts or city councils. It is at the heart of federal enforcement policy.

What America needs right now isn’t more talking points about who was right or wrong. It’s not about whether immigration enforcement is important. It is a collective reckoning with how power is exercised and who it protects.

One of my favorite reads is Lucian K. Truscott IV‘s newsletters on Substack. He refers to ICE as Trump’s “stormtroopers.” In a recent post, Lucian explains how Trump’s use of the National Guard has waned. Instead he has another group in mind. Lucian writes: “You know who Trump likes and trusts now: ICE agents. There are no figures for the age, gender, and racial makeup of ICE agents, particularly new hires. But I searched hard and not find even one photo of ICE agents on the streets of Minneapolis. None showed either a female or Black agent. In the photos of Greg Bovino, the overall commander of the ICE and Border Patrol deployment to Minneapolis, there are men. The photos only show men. They are armed and masked. They are white. They surround him.” Armed and masked white men encircle him.

Justice for Renee Good shouldn’t be a slogan. It should be a cause for real, structural change. This involves not only how federal agents are trained and held accountable. It also includes how civilians are protected from state violence in the first place.

Any society must hold those with power accountable. Without this ability, a society starts to lose its soul.

And that is something we can — and must — change.


Coming tomorrow, an examination of ICE, and how it is becoming a danger to every American.

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