Molly Mogren Katt is a writer and mother of two. This story originally ran on her post Hey Eleanor! on Substack. She lives in the Wedge.
“How’s everything feeling now that ICE is leaving?” a producer from a national news organization asked through my speaker phone, following up on a story I’d helped her with early in January. I thought about it as I bandaged my index finger, one of many cardboard cuts I’ve picked up while organizing thousands of pounds of donated food and hygiene products.
“I mean, I spent six hours today getting 400 bags of supplies to families, so I guess it feels the same.”
Wait — people are still sheltering in place?
I explained that while the overt chaos and violence may have ended, the ICE occupation has not. The week Tom Homan replaced Greg Bovino and announced the departure of 700 ICE agents, three parents at my kids’ school disappeared. ICE changed tactics. They’re quieter now, less dramatic, not the fodder that drives clicks and engagement. The news cycle moved on. We have not.
I’m writing this on Feb. 19. As of today, a team of six parents and a handful of educators from our school are distributing groceries, toilet paper, toothpaste and school supplies to 75 families every week. We’re working with immigration lawyers. We’re patrolling the streets. Last month, we covered rent for 70 families. This month, we’re aiming for 120. Most people need at least $1,000. You can do the math.
"Teachers should be focused on instruction, not learning the habeas petition process or scrambling to find emergency mental health services for children."
The version of me that existed way back in November last year would think there was zero chance of this happening to Minneapolis. The older, wiser 2026 version of me is Ted Lasso slapping a “Believe” sign. While we may share this planet with some despicable human beings (looking at you, Stephen Miller), the good ones outnumber the bad. I know we can help 120 families stay in their homes one more month. We’ll do it through Venmo, GoFundMe, T-shirt sales, small business fundraisers and pounding our networks with ask after ask.
But what happens April 1st?
May 1st? Beyond?
This is not sustainable. Our small but mighty group is exhausted, as is every other one just like ours. We are not mutual aid professionals. We’re regular people with regular jobs and responsibilities — cooking and cleaning for our own families, caring for aging parents, driving kids to swimming lessons.
Teachers should be focused on instruction, not learning the habeas petition process or scrambling to find emergency mental health services for children. After rent assistance, help locating mental health services is our biggest request.
The children are not OK.
For the families we’re supporting — our kids’ friends and
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