On a brisk Sunday afternoon in Brunswick, Maine, more than 200 people gathered along Maine Street near the Town Green, their voices and signs raised in protest against U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) activity under the Trump administration. The demonstration, held on February 16, 2026, was not an isolated act of dissent, but part of a growing wave of grassroots and faith-based resistance to aggressive immigration enforcement across the country.
The protest was sparked by recent ICE raids in Maine, including the high-profile Operation Catch of the Day, which left many in the community anxious and fearful. "Especially with some of the recent ICE raids in Maine, such as Operation Catch of the Day…, many of our friends and classmates and peers have been under this threat of being detained or targeted in enforcement actions, and I feel like there’s been so much fear across entire communities," said Libby Riggs, a Bowdoin College sophomore who organized the event with fellow student Eva McKone and support from the Bowdoin Reproductive Justice Coalition, according to the Bowdoin Orient.
Riggs wasn’t alone in her concerns. The event drew Bowdoin students, local residents, and activists from groups like the Franklin Project, the Unitarian Universalist Church of Brunswick, and the Brunswick Area Indivisible chapter. Maine state representatives, including Rep. Poppy Arford of Brunswick, also attended, signaling political support for the cause.
Katya Fromuth of the Franklin Project, a youth-led group dedicated to resisting authoritarianism, urged the crowd to stand united against ICE activity in Maine. "We are here to say ICE is not welcome in Maine. We are here to say families belong together. We are here to say that our tax dollars will not pay for the jailing of United States citizens," Fromuth declared, emphasizing the importance of community solidarity regardless of race or language.
The rally wasn’t all speeches and signs; music played a central role in fostering unity. Reverend Dr. Kharma Amos, minister of the Unitarian Universalist Church, helped organize a singing group that led the crowd in hymns of resistance. Sree Kandhadai, a Bowdoin student who performed at the protest, reflected on the power of collective song: "I’m really, really heartened to see this happening. I’m so glad that it’s beyond just Bowdoin students…. It seems like half the Unitarian Universalist Church is here," Kandhadai shared. "I don’t really think I’ve used my voice in this way [before]…. [It’s] more impactful than I realized."
Concerns voiced at the event extended beyond local enforcement actions. Protesters highlighted what they saw as un-American tactics by ICE—warrantless searches, breaking down doors and windows, and even brutality against protesters. Mike Plaisted, a member of the Sagadahoc chapter of Indivisible and a former federal government worker, was particularly alarmed by the expansion of executive authority. "Everything that the Trump administration has done since day one has been illegal, and there’s a lot of below the radar stuff that people don’t even see.… Congress appropriates money, the President does not. In fact, the President actually doesn’t tell Congress what they’re going to spend money on," Plaisted said. He also lamented that people now felt compelled to carry passports to prove their citizenship, adding, "You shouldn’t have to carry your passport to prove who you are or to prove you’re a citizen or to prove anything."
The Brunswick protest is one of many recent actions across the United States, as faith communities and activists increasingly step into the fray. Yet, the national conversation around ICE and immigration enforcement has also been shaped by the digital age’s pitfalls. According to OSV News, a widely circulated video reel appeared to show a Catholic bishop forcefully denouncing ICE agents and defending immigrants on the steps of his church. The video struck a chord, inspiring viewers and garnering hundreds of thousands of shares. But the truth was more complicated—the video was an AI-generated fake. "That video is a fake. AI. I know—it would be awesome if it were true. But sadly, not," a colleague informed the original poster, capturing the collective yearning for bold religious leadership and the ease with which misinformation can spread.
Despite the disappointment, real-life examples of faith-driven activism abound. On January 23, 2026, an ecumenical protest at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport saw clergy from across the nation standing against what they called unjust deportations, resulting in over 100 arrests. Just days later, on January 29, about 80 clerical and community leaders gathered at the Hart Senate Building in Washington, D.C., for prayer and civil disobedience, leading to at least 54 arrests. These events, reminiscent of the Civil Rights Movement, underscored the enduring role of religious communities in moral advocacy.
Historical parallels were drawn to the 1965 Selma marches, where Catholics and other faith leaders joined Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in demanding justice and equality. As OSV News noted, a story from that era described Selma as "a call for a moral revolution of Christian witness and love in the hearts and minds of Americans." Today, similar calls echo through initiatives like "One Church, One Family," which in fall 2025 brought Catholics together for collective action in support of immigrants. A January 27, 2026, webinar titled "Taken, Broken, Shared: Catholic Witness Today" attracted over 2,000 participants, including four bishops, reflecting a hunger for communal and prophetic leadership.
While some bishops have become more vocal, their involvement is often described as "episodic." The U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, after its November 2025 annual meeting, released a "special pastoral message on immigration," appealing to human dignity and compassion. Select bishops, such as Cardinal Joseph Tobin of Newark, have spoken out more forcefully. In a January 26, 2026, webinar, Cardinal Tobin addressed the "militarization of our communities," likening ICE to a "machinery of death" and urging participants to contact their representatives about funding. His appearance was described as "real" and "prophetic," sparking hope for more visible, embodied leadership in the future.
Other faith leaders, too, have called for action beyond words. Bishop Rob Hirschfeld of the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire told his congregation to "get their affairs in order, to make sure they have their wills written. Because it may be that now is no longer the time for statements but for us with our bodies to stand between the powers of this world and the most vulnerable." Such statements reflect a growing belief that moral leadership requires not only statements but presence—on the streets, in the halls of power, and among those most affected by policy.
Back in Brunswick, Riggs and her fellow organizers are already planning next steps. They hope to pressure Maine senators Susan Collins and Angus King to prioritize community safety and defund ICE, and to encourage Bowdoin College to adopt clearer protections for vulnerable community members. "Today, we will build community and show that we are here, and tomorrow, we will use this community to continue to demand change," Riggs said, capturing the spirit of a movement that is both local and national, rooted in solidarity and a shared vision for justice.
As the nation grapples with the realities of immigration enforcement and the role of faith in public life, the events in Brunswick and beyond reveal a country wrestling with its conscience—and a new generation ready to raise its voice.