How Food Ignites Portland's Anti-ICE Protests

A Unique Protest in Portland

Since June 8, 2025, the day after arrests began outside Portland’s Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) building, Ritto has been on the ground, starting nightly fires. Firing up the grill, that is. It’s one of the roles he plays in the ongoing demonstration opposing the ICE facility in Portland’s South Waterfront. These daily demonstrations are the main reason the Trump administration is determined to deploy the National Guard to downtown Portland and why Trump called the city “war-ravaged” with “fires all over the place.” Thus far, on-the-ground observers and judges have disagreed with the characterization. Since early October, temporary restraining orders have blocked deployment and were, as of publication, renewed again until Friday, November 7. As U.S. District Judge Karin J. Immergut put it in a recent order: Trump’s assessment is “simply untethered to the facts.”

So untethered, it could float away. Days outside the facility are filled with care, laughter, and inflatable frog costumes. Rich Coffman, a regular protestor, likes to call it “giggling at tyrants” and adds that it “deflates fragile egos like a punctured tire.” Pleasure and comfort disrupt and subvert. And like many movements before, food has become a central part of the joy of resistance. Food not only provides sustenance for the long days and nights spent outside, but builds community. As French social theorist Pierre Bourdieu points out, “[food is] an affirmation of solidarity with others (who are often the only present guarantee against the threats of the future).”

Ritto, who like many protestors chooses to only use his first name for privacy and protection, has only taken around 10 days away from grill duty in the last five months. But even on a recent break from the dinner rush, he deftly got the coals going before handing the tongs over to Ren Purkerson. Purkerson, a 43-year-old mother who studied criminal justice, danced to nearby music while unloading and reloading the grill with burgers, judiciously seasoning each patty. “Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone got a lot of dance moves, as did Frozen’s “Let It Go,” but even Idina Menzel’s mezzo-soprano didn’t drown out Thomas Allen, the MAGA supporter and livestreamer with a megaphone.

In early October, Allen was arrested and charged with disorderly conduct and assault, so he now has to stay at least 200 feet away from the facility. Nevertheless, his support of ICE and his insults directed towards protesters could still be heard. Not to be deterred, Purkerson teased, “Too bad MAGA can’t have burgers” while wafting the grill’s aroma his way and taking orders from protestors: “How do you take yours? Medium? Cheese or no cheese?” without missing a beat.

Community and Resistance

Daily, septuagenarians and knitters bring homemade baked goods (pumpkin muffins are a fan favorite) to the site. Book clubs meet there to protest whilst dining on elaborate charcuterie spreads. Charming tea parties occur spontaneously. Pizza and doughnuts are frequently delivered. “We don’t eat the healthiest but we do eat good,” says Ursa, a regular protestor and organizer at the site. “Fresh vegetables go surprisingly quick.” Nonperishable care packages are dropped by well-wishers, brimming with protein bars, electrolyte packets, and hand sanitizer.

On weekdays, the Portland Immigrant Rights Coalition (PIRC) is stationed outside, ensuring that people going inside have the resources they need to make it back out. After PIRC leaves, community volunteers provide PIRC’s hotline and pamphlets to people until closing time. Clergy members from the Interfaith Movement for Immigrant Justice also offer daily support and accompaniment. Rabbi Benjamin Barnett, who has been working outside of the ICE facility for years, discussed the importance of conviviality and community in resistance next to a table loaded with fruit, cereal bars, and frog resistance bracelets. “Keeping the joy and Portland weird is so upsetting to Washington, [D.C.],” remarked Patricia Buescher, a 75-year-old “craftivist” who knits, bakes, and protests as often as she can.

Each day, strange contrasting scenes play out: people nervously entering the facility amidst the backdrop of dancing inflatable animals; a teenager collecting empty tear gas canisters and pepper balls while fellow protestors settle down for dinner; the dog getting pets while his feet are wiped free of the pepper spray staining the asphalt.

Quinn Haberl, a protestor who is blind, was dragged by his feet into the facility by multiple agents on the morning of October 18, while activists passed out coffee and homemade veggie burritos. More than an hour later, Haberl was escorted out of the ICE building by six agents. His alleged offense was sitting with his legs on the facility’s driveway.

Protestors claim they’ve had issues with their supplies being tainted. After six people, including a pregnant woman, allegedly became disoriented and nauseated after drinking from water bottles, they’ve implemented new protocols including squeezing each bottle to ensure there are no pin-sized holes and never leaving open bottles unattended. Demonstrators’ nonperishable food and supplies have also been confiscated by Portland police officers multiple times. The News Pulse reviewed a video provided by protestors that showed Portland police ripping into and consuming packaged snacks near the protestors. Protestors alleged that the snacks were those that had been confiscated by officers during a sweep of the site, though that couldn’t be verified with the footage provided. In an email, Portland Police Bureau said they’d be “beyond shocked if this occurred” and told me that “nothing keeps officers from snacking on something they’ve brought from home.”

On Sunday, October 26, Portland police swept the entire site, seizing water bottles, medical supplies, and food. Despite protestors’ pleas, they got rid of everything, including the inflation station — brimming with colorful, inflatable costumes — which had just been replenished that morning by a couple who stopped by from Chicago. They got rid of the oil paintings propped near chairs and “yarn bombs” decorating signs.

The day after the sweep, spirits were visibly lower. Victor, a protester, lamented the lack of supplies. “People come out here, families show up to protest, and it isn’t their whole personality so they’re usually not prepared; having the medical tent to deal with the repercussions from tear gas and pepper balls was vital.” Victor also lamented the grill being taken. “[Ritto] really knows how to cook.”

But people are still there. Rain or shine, people show up to make sure families who are being pulled apart by ICE have resources and community. To offer candy to children who don’t know where their parent went. To take pictures of agents and their unmarked vehicles entering the facility. To dance or hold hands or light up grills. As one protestor’s sign said, “they bring chaos, we bring care.”