Taylor, an Iowa-based artist, had been sharing political posts and information on social media long before January 7, when they posted about ICE agents shooting Renee Good in Minneapolis. They mainly use their social media accounts to sell mugs and support their small business, and after they posted about Good’s death someone messaged them to say that they shouldn’t get political. “Somebody got mad at me in my D.M.s and said, you know, you’re supposed to be posting about mugs. I want to see a mug,” they said.
That just made Taylor angry, and they doubled down. They posted a video to the main Instagram grid, saying that if anyone watching supported ICE, voted for Donald Trump, or didn’t think that trans people deserve to live happy and healthy lives, “I don’t need your money. Maybe if you stop supporting fascism, I’ll make you a mug or something one day.”
The post went up on January 8 and went viral. They said that while a handful of people sent violent messages in response—which is part of the reason they don’t want their social media accounts named—the response was overwhelmingly positive. They said it just felt honest to start posting more about politics. “Artists will talk about this a lot, about where their items end up, you know, where the things that they make end up,” they said. “And I don’t really want my work in the house of an ICE agent. You know what I mean? I don’t want to make them happy. They make me sad. Why would I want to bring them joy with art?”
I spoke to several social media content creators and influencers who all experienced a similar shift in recent weeks. ICE’s actions around the country, especially in Minnesota, were a tipping point for all of them. It wasn’t just that these creators felt that they should weigh in, it’s that it felt impossible not to—especially if they used social media to support their work or charity.
It all speaks to a specific moment in U.S. history in which our personal, working, and political lives are all entwined, the boundary between public and private has collapsed, and we’re watching the government commit atrocities that are videoed and shared on the same social media platforms. People are trying to make their business and volunteer dreams come true—writing recipes and making mugs and rescuing dogs—on the same apps where they’re seeing fellow Americans bravely standing up to an increasingly authoritarian regime. There’s no place now that’s free of politics.
This is by no means new. Since the 2024 elections, I’ve noticed the social media accounts that I follow across Instagram, TikTok, and other platforms that aren’t explicitly political—furniture repair, baking, dog rescue, hiking—wade more into politics. Some of these posts started only tepidly political, as when the DIY accounts I follow posted about how the rescission of the Inflation Reduction Act early in Trump’s second term would impact homeowners and renovators who care about green energy. A friend and I joked they were soft-launching their liberalism.
In the past month, as the federal assault has worsened, the posts have gotten angrier, more persistent, and more widespread. There’s even an easily adaptable meme to explain the jump into political content: “Reminder that this is a bourbon account but I can’t drink bourbon if ICE shoots me in the face,” is the common example, often set to the swelling, angry chorus of Mumford & Sons’ “White Blank Page,” but sometimes set to a song that makes fun of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, by another creator named Chelsea Gods. Many are angry. “If you support ICE, my content is not for you. I don’t want my recipes bringing joy to fascists,” said one baking account.
It’s not just ICE, either; people have been weighing in on the Epstein files and other recent events too. An influencer in Maine posted an angry rant she taped in her car with the caption, in all caps: “I’d rather be sharing my banana bread recipe too babe.” Instead, she said she’s had to use her history degree, with a focus on World War II studies, to explain how everything that’s been happening is worthy of alarm. “So, yes, I desperately wish that I could go back to making silly goofy videos of my favorite fucking casserole,” she said, her voice rising, “but unfortunately I have to use my degree to teach a 40-year-old person that apparently this contentious issue of whether or not an adult should have sex with children, is somehow up for debate???”
Even an account about huskies called eight_fluffytails posted on Threads that they had tried to stay apolitical in order to provide viewers with a little bit of an escape, but invited any followers who welcomed the rising authoritarianism to leave. “The huskies are very good judges of character, and they’d hate you, too.”
Cynically, this could be read as an attempt to jump on an increasingly popular bandwagon: After all, the people doing the posting are enmeshed in social media algorithms that connect them to more followers who agree with them, thus increasing their reach. Taylor said they gained 30,000 followers across platforms; their waitlist for products was already full before the influx, and they’ve had to explain to new followers that they can’t make their mugs fast enough to meet the sudden spike in demand. But it genuinely feels honest. People are shaken and angry, and they want to say so.
Rachel Brenke, an attorney who advises content creators and posts on social media herself, says that creators often ask her about what they can say legally, but they’re already eager to post. “There’s a human element. There’s a human behind the social media posting the business, etc., and so they feel convicted, they want to educate, advocate activism, and put it out there,” she said. She thinks this is also just the nature of online life today: Businesses are used to putting a human face and voice to their social media accounts, and it feels dishonest not to say something.
Emily GF, who asked not to be fully identified, runs a ranch for senior and rescue horses in Idaho, works in health care, and has a small business on the side where she runs the social media accounts of other businesses. “My life is very … there’s not clear, defined buckets.… I have the horses, I have marketing. I’m in health care. It’s hard to express all of that on one page. It kind of all bleeds together,” she said. Emily GF specifically wants her local representatives to share their plans about what they will do if—or more likely, when—immigration enforcement officials descend on Boise.
She first became political online about public lands issues, for which she she has a particular passion. As her feeds filled with political content and stories, she felt more and more compelled to speak out. She thinks that this is what’s happening with other content creators, as well. “This very specific video that was like physically pounding in my head, of [an ICE] officer in Minneapolis going in … to a Thai restaurant and demanding to speak to the owners, with gun drawn the whole time,” she remembered. “Just a restaurant full of people eating. And it really just hit me as so reminiscent of a dark and terrible time. It just really made me think in direct lines to visiting Dachau, visiting the Anne Frank house,” she said.
Being political in public is not risk-free—Emily GF didn’t want to talk about her health care work because she didn’t want her clients targeted. Other content creators have day jobs that aren’t always amenable to their being outspoken about current events. But with each new video, and so many people in Minneapolis and other cities across the country taking brave actions every day, no one felt worried enough to stay quiet. In fact, they felt more worried about staying silent.
Stephanie McKenna has a 9-to-5 day job but also posts travel content on social media, and she’s been trying to grow that into a business. She said she has been very vocal. “I told my husband, I was like, I’ve been yelling and screaming about this for 10 years, and friends have told me that I’m crazy, and my family’s told me that I’m being melodramatic,” she said. She decided to take a break after the election to grow her brand, but the respite she’d planned for herself didn’t last long. “Then everything that happened in Minneapolis just kind of changed. And I didn’t want to be, not only on the wrong side of history publicly but also, it just felt that I can’t be a part of the problem in any way, shape, or form, and by not speaking up, I felt that I was being a part of the problem, even though I violently disagree with it.”
This is of a piece with what I’ve heard in my personal life, as well. People are upset and want to do something but don’t always know what. “Not everyone can be on the front line; not everyone can fly out to Minneapolis right now,” said Adrian Lott, a therapist in Seattle who runs an account focused on finding loving homes for senior dogs. She posted a series of photos of her old dogs with comments about the Trump administration’s misdeeds and the slide into fascism. “I’m a big fan of, let’s meet people where they’re at, and where a lot of people are at is on the internet, for better or for worse.… If I can meet people where they’re at and try to engage, I think that’s valuable.”
Some people hope to change minds, but many have come to find that their posts seemed to mostly end up in an echo chamber, drawing engagement mostly from others who were of the same mind and relieved to read a post with which they agreed. But many felt that if they took the opportunity to speak up, it might encourage others to do the same.
Mainly, they all came to discover that the work they do in their lives—be it travel, art, or animal rescue—was inherently political in ways they hadn’t previously realized. That there was no separating their work from the impacts of Trump’s policies and actions in Minneapolis and cities around the country. Armed with these insights, they felt compelled to make those connections explicit. “I think it’s a good idea to be yourself, and if yourself is angry, then you might as well put it on,” Taylor said. “It’s an art account. You know, art is political. Just full stop, that’s the end of it.”
