I Was Arrested Outside of an ICE Facility We Need to Shut Down

Faith leader, Michael Woolf, minister at Lake Street Church of Evanston, is detained by Illinois State Police during a protest against immigration actions, outside the Broadview ICE facility Broadview, Ill., Nov. 14, 2025. Credit: Reuters/Jim Vondruska

On Nov. 14, more than 100 clergy gathered to raise their voices to demand the closure of the Immigration and Customs Enforcement processing facility in Broadview, Ill., the release of all detainees, and that the Department of Homeland Security honor federal law by allowing detainees spiritual care. As we walked arm-in-arm into the street to make our demands known, we were immediately met with violence.

This is not an uncommon occurrence. In the past 2.5 months, while protesting at Broadview, I have experienced more violence from ICE and Illinois State Police than I have hitherto experienced over my entire lifetime. You’ve probably seen the Reuters photograph of me being arrested, lying face down on the pavement with my arms held behind my back.

It did not matter that I was wearing a clerical collar, nor did it matter that I had clearly stated to the law enforcement officers that we were peaceably assembled, and we meant absolutely no harm. During a lull in the action, I was slammed to the ground and zip-tied. Later, I was charged with three misdemeanors.

My fellow protesters were mostly faith leaders—this was the biggest group that I’d seen yet at the facility in Broadview. It was a great show of moral force, and despite my arrest, I was so proud of my fellow protesters and their insistence that what is happening in this facility is torture—pure and simple. This is neither normal nor acceptable.

While I was zip-tied and awaiting transport, I heard a commanding officer in the Illinois State Police say to other police officers with truncheons, “Light ’em up.” I was familiar with that term from military movies, but I was shocked to hear it used in reference to peaceful protesters gathered to exercise their constitutional rights. Hearing this phrase used by law enforcement made me realize that they view clergy, moral actors, and protesters as the enemy.

Regardless of how they view us, we have a right and a duty to be at Broadview, which is a suburb just outside of Chicago. Clergy from all over Chicagoland came to this protest because we have reason to believe that Broadview is a concentration camp. And while Broadview is 30 minutes away from where I live and minister, this still feels like an injustice happening in my backyard.

For me, it’s important that I act as if Jesus is detained at the facility in Broadview. Matthew 25 makes it clear that whatever I do or withhold from the most vulnerable, I do or withhold from Jesus. Right now, it’s hard for me to imagine a scarier place to be detained, and that makes my discernment about how to respond easy.

READ MORE: Chicago Is in a State of Holy Rage

I would call the Broadview facility a concentration camp or a black site. I can only imagine the suffering that is taking place there. In September, Brenda Perez, whose husband was arrested and sent to Broadview before eventually being sent to a Michigan jail, told the Associated Press that her husband had told her he’d gone 24 hours without food. “He would beg them for food and water because he was hungry and very thirsty and they would just ignore him,” Perez recounted to the Associated Press. On Nov. 5, U.S. District Judge Robert Gettleman ordered authorities to improve conditions at the detention facility after hearing testimony from detainees that the conditions in the facility were inhumane. This is enough for me to act with clarity and conviction of purpose.

I spent seven hours detained in a Cook County jail, and I have a new sense of the dehumanization that incarceration induces. When I asked an officer to loosen my restraints because I was losing feeling in my hands, he told me, “No one wants to talk to you. Shut the fuck up.” To be under someone’s power to the extent that they can cause you harm just by refusing to take action was scary. But I imagine it is much worse for those in the Broadview facility.

There was also a sense of camaraderie in lock-up. Twelve of us sang songs, recited poetry, advocated for one another, and formed a community. There’s a reason that Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. said that one’s first trip to jail for a just cause can be compared to “baptism.” Alone, resistance is impossible, but in community, not only are new worlds possible, but they are also imminent. What we need now is to find each other and give each other courage.

In the moments before the protest moved into the street, I was frightened, but someone grabbed my arm and looped it with theirs, and all of a sudden, I knew that I could face whatever happened because I was not alone. The touch of a fellow clergyperson reminded me that, wherever we go for the sake of justice and mercy, God is there with us.

God is with us even when politicians oppose us or mischaracterize our efforts. In response to the protest, Broadview mayor Katrina Thompson released a statement on social media saying that “out-of-town protesters” had “chosen their fists” in this demonstration. Both of these statements are mischaracterizations.

It has become routine for federal and, unfortunately, state and local entities to claim that protesters are violent. But I have yet to see any video evidence that indicates that, and the protest was extensively covered by journalists and regular people taking footage with their phones. While I’ve not seen any evidence of protesters being violent, I have seen plenty of law enforcement officials acting in an unprofessional and dangerous manner toward protesters. Our hands were raised in prayer, not clenched in fists.

Violence is never the answer for Christians, and violence against our righteous protests cannot stop us. “Perfect love casts out fear,” and we remain unafraid (1 John 4:18). Remaining unafraid and grounded in love is only possible through the power of God’s message and the clarity of purpose that we have to challenge dehumanization wherever we find it.

Prayers are welcome, but prayer alone will not close Broadview’s ICE processing facility. It will take action and clarity of purpose. It will take more people being willing to get involved and follow the lead of my fellow protesters. It will take readers like you to make real change happen. I am confident that a new day is coming.

Prayers are welcome, but prayer alone will not close Broadview’s ICE processing facility. It will take action and clarity of purpose. It will take more people being willing to get involved and follow the lead of my fellow protesters. It will take readers like you to make real change happen.