I Went to a Denver Protest About ICE — Here’s My Honest Take

I’m Kayla. I write reviews. Usually about gear, apps, or coffee makers. But this time, I’m reviewing an experience I actually had: two protests in the Denver area about ICE. Different days, same cause. I took notes like I always do. I watched. I listened. I felt a lot.

If you’d like an even deeper, play-by-play rundown of the same action, I put together a separate field diary you can skim here: I Went to a Denver Protest About ICE — Here’s My Honest Take. It holds every moment that couldn’t fit in this shorter recap.

And yeah, I brought snacks. Because snacks matter.

Quick take

  • Energy: strong, warm, and loud (in a good way)
  • Safety support: better than I expected
  • Police presence: clear and tense at times
  • Access: mixed, depends on the spot
  • Would I go again: yes, but with a hat, water, and a plan

Why I went

Simple. I care about families staying together. I wanted to show up, not just post. Also, I’m a nerd for how events run. I like to see what works and what falls apart. You know what? Both things matter here.

For context, I try to witness different kinds of direct action whenever I can; earlier this year I spent a stormy afternoon at an East-Coast reproductive-rights showdown and wrote up my impressions in I Went to an Anti-Abortion Protest in Boston — My Honest Take. Seeing how those organizers handled tension shaped what I looked for in Denver.

Two real moments that stuck with me

  1. Downtown rally by the State Capitol
    It was a Saturday, late afternoon. Hot. The kind of dry heat that sneaks up on you in Denver. People spread out on the steps and the grass at Civic Center Park. I saw signs in English and Spanish. Some were sharpie on cardboard. Some looked like a design studio made them. One read “Families Belong Together.” Another said “Abolish ICE.” Drums, a megaphone, and a chorus of “No justice, no peace.” A teen next to me held the mic and shared how scared she felt for her dad. Her voice shook. A stranger passed tissues down the line. That small kindness? It mattered.
    If you want a straight news rundown of a similar afternoon rally at the Capitol, Colorado Newsline covered it in depth.

  2. Evening vigil near the Aurora ICE facility
    Quieter. Heavy. People brought candles and glow sticks. A pastor led a short prayer. I’m not super religious, but I felt the hush settle over us. Legal observers in green hats took notes. Street medics had red crosses taped on their packs. A woman passing water asked if I needed sunscreen. I did. I forgot my SPF. Rookie mistake. We stood along the sidewalk, and cars honked in support. One man yelled from a truck. Folks near me didn’t take the bait. A de-escalator, wearing a bright vest, asked us to step back a bit. We did. No drama. Just a slow breath.
    You can read how community groups framed this protest in CIRC's own write-up for background on why so many showed up.
    If you’re curious about how volunteers learn that kind of calm conflict resolution, check out Operation Defuse — their free primers on de-escalation are surprisingly practical.

What worked well

  • Clear roles: Legal observers in green hats, medics with red crosses, and marshals in bright vests. It made me feel less alone in the crowd.
  • Mutual aid tables: Water, Gatorade, fruit, and granola bars. One table had electrolyte powder. That saved me later.
  • Sound: The megaphone was loud enough at the Capitol rally. I could hear the speakers without pushing forward.
  • Family-friendly zones: I saw strollers, kids in ear protection, and a little art corner with chalk.
  • Translation: A few speakers had Spanish translation. Not perfect, but they tried. I respect that.

What felt rough

  • Heat and shade: The Capitol lawn has some trees, but not many. People were crowded under the branches. I felt it in my face—sunburn city.
  • Police lines: Bike cops formed a line during the march near Broadway. It got tense. No big clash, but the mood shifted. I was alert, not relaxed.
  • Access: Sidewalk curbs near the vigil were broken in spots. A person with a mobility aid had trouble. A few of us helped, but ramps were far.
  • Sound at the vigil: The speakers were soft. Wind snatched the words. I caught most of it, but not all.

Small things that mattered

  • Chants: “No ICE, no KKK, no fascist USA” and “Sí se puede.” They kept the pace and gave shy folks a way to join.
  • Art: Chalk messages by kids made the space feel kind. Butterflies and hearts. It softened a hard topic.
  • Trash: Volunteers handed out bags and did sweeps. The parks looked okay after. Respect.

Gear I used and liked

  • Nalgene bottle with a carabiner: Easy to clip to my bag.
  • Neutrogena SPF 50 (borrowed): Didn’t sting my face.
  • A wide-brim Columbia hat: Not cute, but it worked.
  • Lightweight runners, not sandals: Saved my feet on hot concrete.
  • Sharpie and cardboard from a Trader Joe’s box: My sign held up. My hand did not cramp.

Feelings, because they’re part of it

Was I scared? A little, during the bike line moment.
Was I moved? Yes. A woman near me cried while holding a candle. I cried too.
Did I feel heard? Kind of. I’m one voice. But together, we were a wall of sound. That felt strong.

Sometimes the adrenaline of protest fades into a need for light-hearted connection; if unwinding with consenting adults sounds like your style, you can explore MeetnFuck — it’s a quick-match platform where grown-ups find no-strings-attached meetups nearby, perfect for de-stressing without a long planning curve.
If your travel or work schedule ever puts you in Illinois and you’re curious about casual meet-ups beyond Denver’s orbit, the local listings scene in the Fox Valley has its own vibe—Backpage Elgin breaks down who’s available, what they’re into, and how to connect safely, so you can skip the guesswork and focus on finding the right fit for your downtime.

Safety and care notes I’m glad I followed

  • Wrote a legal hotline on my arm. Didn’t need it, but it calmed me.
  • Told a friend where I was. Met up at a clear spot (by the big statue) in case we got split.
  • Brought snacks. Salted almonds are small heroes.
  • Earplugs in my pocket. Sirens can spike fast.

The habit of prepping for worst-case scenarios might sound dramatic, but it comes from reading pieces like What Happens to Prisoners During Martial Law? My First-Hand Review. Once you know how fast rights can shrink, you keep that hotline number close.

What I’d change next time

  • Bring extra SPF sticks to hand out.
  • Pack two cold packs in a freezer bag. Heat is sneaky here.
  • Ask organizers about ADA routes ahead of time. Then share that on a sign or on a board.
  • More shade tents, even small pop-ups, if allowed.

Who this is for

  • First-timers who want to show up and not feel lost
  • Parents who need a calmer zone
  • Folks who need to know there’s water, help, and people watching out for you

My verdict

  • Community support: 5/5
  • Safety planning: 4/5 (clear roles helped a lot)
  • Access and shade: 2.5/5 (Denver sun is no joke)
  • Overall experience: 4/5

Here’s the thing: protests can feel big and messy. This one felt big, but cared for. Not perfect—nothing is—but present, steady, and human. I went home tired, dusty, and hopeful. And yes, I’d go again, with more sunscreen and maybe a second water bottle. Honestly, that’s my kind of five-star fix.