On the evening of Friday, June 13 at 6:00 PM, I was present as a diverse, impassioned group of strangers gathered in downtown Lowell to demand an end to the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) presence in Lowell and beyond. The demonstrators denounced a broader system of state violence, police brutality, the state’s complicity in Israel’s genocide of Palestinians, and the silencing of dissent nationwide. The demonstration, organized by the Party for Socialism and Liberation (PSL), drew a substantial turnout from the local community. Members of the local nonprofit Solidarity Lowell were also present in support, though the two groups organized their participation independently.

The Lowell protest was part of a wave of national solidarity actions following mass demonstrations in Los Angeles, California where the Trump administration deployed the US National Guard in response to public outcry over police brutality and the treatment of undocumented migrants. Viral videos depicting aggressive tactics by the Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD) and the National Guard reignited anger and fear among immigrant communities across the country, including here in Massachusetts.

Lowell is home to one of the largest Cambodian American populations in the US, as well as many other immigrant and refugee families from Latin America, the Caribbean, Africa, and the MENA region. For many residents, this protest was more than symbolic—it was deeply personal. Many Lowellians’  lives have been shaped by migration, displacement, and the overlapping pressures of systematic marginalization.

The gathering in Lowell was calm and respectful throughout, kicking off with an hour of activist speeches that addressed the struggles of impacted Lowell families, both successful and failed efforts to pressure government agencies to free wrongly detained asylum seekers and pro-Palestine activists, regressive Massachusetts legislation, and lived experiences with oppression. Demonstrators stood shoulder-to-shoulder holding handmade signs. Several children sat on parents’ shoulders or toddled around the City Square. Attendees listened intently, many nodding in agreement, clapping, or raising their fists in silent solidarity. The tone remained serious but measured throughout, holding space for both collective outrage and community compassion. Passersby yelled and honked car horns in a show of solidarity, amplifying the crowd’s spirit of resistance.

Speakers drew deliberate parallels between immigration enforcement and other forms of institutional violence. While calling for the abolition of ICE, many also addressed Israel’s ongoing assault on Gaza, the repression of trans communities in the US, and the systemic erosion of working-class rights.

One speaker, Katu, the child of Filipino immigrants, shared a personal reflection:

As the story often goes, they left everything behind—their families and the only home they had ever known—to find a better life in America. They were promised freedom from the Marcos and Duterte dictatorships. They were promised good jobs that would ensure their family would never go hungry… as long as they were “good” immigrants.

A Brazilian-American speaker followed with an urgent call for solidarity:

In this moment, we need to stand united because if they attack one of us—like we’re seeing in L.A. with our immigrant rights activists…and our immigrant neighbors—they attack all of us. No one is free until we are all free. We have nothing to lose but our jobs.

Another woman from Honduras shared a powerful testimony about her forced displacement, “In 2009, I was driven out of my home country. There was a military coup that overthrew the democratically-elected president at the time and I came to the US.”

She continued:

The US also put in a puppet government in my country at the time. [M]ilitary interventions, and political domination that leaves us crippled and unable to thrive in our lands. Those are the real reasons why people make the difficult decision to come to this country. And mothers who cross borders for stability and opportunities for their children are not criminals.

In this moment, we’re seeing the increased demonization and scapegoating of immigrant communities. But are immigrants the reason we have over half a million people experiencing homelessness? Are immigrants the reason we don’t have adequate access to food, healthcare, and education in a country so full of wealth?

Countless families are being torn apart, mothers ripped from their children, and innocent men like Kilmar Garcia are being deported to concentration camps in El Salvador…[Rümeysa Öztürk] was abducted in broad daylight for writing an opinion piece in the university’s newspaper criticizing the ongoing genocide in Gaza. She committed no crime; she was just practicing her right to free speech. I was part of a community of over 4,000 people who showed up the next day in Medford to demand her release. And we didn’t stop there: we kept showing up, shoulder-to-shoulder…to every hearing, every rally, every call-to-action. We raised our voices to demand justice. When I heard that Rümeysa was coming back to our community, I knew in my heart that it was because of our relentless pressure. Because of our unwavering presence. Our fight was not just in the courtrooms, but in the streets. And that’s the power of collective action. Rümeysa walked free, and so will Mahmoud Khalil, a Columbia University student who also spoke up against the genocide in Gaza.

The protest concluded with powerful, unifying chants, “From Palestine to Mexico, all these walls have got to go!” and “The people united will never be defeated!”

As protesters marched through the Lowell streets, they were flanked by a visible but non-confrontational police presence, with no clashes reported. Officers helped block streets and escort marchers through traffic—a rare moment of cooperation between protestors and law enforcement. Onlookers clapped and cheered as the crowd moved through downtown. Local business owners and employees stood outside, applauding and raising fists in solidarity. Protesters carried signs reading “Abolish ICE,” “No Human Is Illegal,” and “Free Palestine.”

Friday’s demonstration in Lowell is one of many across the country reflecting a growing, intersectional movement that sees the fight for immigrant justice as inextricably tied to broader global struggles for human rights, self-determination, and collective dignity.

Image captured by Alanah Vargas

Image captured by Alanah Vargas

Image captured by Alanah Vargas