The weekly gatherings of knitters at Needle & Skein, a yarn store in Minneapolis, are typically filled with giggles and storytelling. But, earlier this month, a heaviness hung in the air.
"It was just collective exhaustion," said Paul Neary, a shop employee. "Minnesotans — we're not going to say the big thing, but we often know what the big thing is just by looking at each other."
The "big thing" for the group of knitters was the widespread presence of federal immigration officials to their city and the death of U.S. citizen Renee Good by an immigration agent. (Ten days after the meeting, Alex Pretti was also killed in Minneapolis.)
"What's been happening in Minneapolis has been so egregious and awful and so destructive to our community," shop owner Gilah Mashaal said of federal agents' use of aggressive tactics. It was obvious to her and Neary how the shop would protest.
They pulled out their knitting needles and got to work.
Neary created the pattern that has now become the well-known "Melt the ICE" hat, a red beanie-shaped cap topped with a braided tassel.
Since making the pattern available for $5, the shop has raised nearly $400,000, Mashaal said Friday. So far, she said, they have donated a total of $250,000 to two local nonprofits focused on housing support for immigrants in the community — STEP (St. Louis Park Emergency Program) and the Immigrant Rapid Response Fund.
The red hat has become a movement in the crafting community, popping up on social media and reaching other countries.
Mashaal and her daughter, Gabriel Mashaal-Timm, have received messages from people around the world, from Israel to South Africa to Norway, expressing their support for the movement, Mashaal said.
Now, red yarn is sold out in knitting shops across Minneapolis, Neary said.
Inspiration came from a 1940s Norwegian hat
As a history buff, Neary chose the pattern based on a Norwegian hat used to protest the Nazi occupation of Norway in the 1940s. The hats were called "nisselue," which roughly translates to Santa hat.
"I brought this hat back for a reason," Neary said. To him, they symbolize resistance as they did in the 1940s.
In Norway, Mats Tangestuen, the director of the country's Resistance Museum in Oslo, was intrigued upon receiving an email with a link to the hat pattern. The fact that the state with the largest Norwegian population in the U.S., was resurrecting what he said is a lesser-known piece of Norwegian history, was a welcome surprise.
Tangestuen said the hat emerged sometime around the last large demonstration protesting Nazi occupation in September 1941. For Norwegians, the hat was meant to be "distinctively non-violent" and "not a threatening symbol."
"It was used in the period of the war where everything looked very dark," Tangestuen said. "The main purpose of it was just to keep up morale, keep up hope and not descend into hopelessness and apathy."
It was eventually outlawed by the Germans.
Peter Fritzsche, a history professor at the University of Illinois, said the Nazis were operating on "obviously a very, very different scale," but with ICE's presence in Minnesota, people can still feel "occupied." He said he believes the idea of the hats speaks to a broader theme.
"The question is not the Nazis, but: Do you feel like there's a born undemocratic and unvirtuous, sinister, arbitrary force?" Fritzsche said. "They say they certainly do. And I certainly see why they do."
A quieter form of community activism
At her knitting shop in Minneapolis, Mashaal typically avoids discussing politics. But as a Jewish woman and an immigrant herself, she felt she had no other option than to find a way to protest.
"Knitting is just a great way to find community, but it's also a great way of protest," Mashaal said. "I cannot sit by and watch really good people literally being torn apart by the actions of the federal government."
Wendy Woloson, a history professor at Rutgers University at Camden and fellow knitter, said the red hats are a classic response of the crafting world. When knitters want to help in their community, they put their hands to work, she said.
"That's just part of a long tradition," Woloson said. "If you know somebody who gets cancer and has to go through chemo, you knit them a chemo cap. If somebody's having a baby, you knit them a little hat or a sweater."
The hats are a way to create solidarity, she said. She recalled the pink "pussy hats" from the 2017 Women's March — which emerged as a unifying symbol of protest against the Trump administration. Whether the red hats will become a symbol in the movement against ICE will be seen in time, she said.
Neary said contributing to the "Melt the ICE" effort is a way for people to help their neighbors, without leaving their homes.
"Not everybody is built for the front line. Not everybody is built to shout," Neary said.
In response to criticisms she's heard about the hat being "performative," Mashaal, the shop owner, said the thousands of dollars that have gone toward supporting their community speaks for itself.
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