Art as Action: ICE Out of Durango

By Rose LeCompte (she/her)

When I heard about the ICE raid that happened in my hometown of Durango during the last week of October, I felt a deep mix of sadness, anger, and distance. I wasn't there anymore and part of the community in the same way, but there it was flashing through my Instagram feed between campus posts and class reminders. Durango is a small mountain town in southwestern Colorado where people tend to know each other, and community response is often immediate and personal. Seeing familiar faces standing outside in the cold, holding signs and supporting one another, reminded me how deeply connected the people there are. Sitting in my dorm room far from home, I wanted to do something, but I wasn’t sure what that could look like.

For the last two years, I've focused deeply on the role that art can play as a form of activism. Art isn't just something beautiful to be hung on a wall, but a tool to spark emotions, ideas, and dialogue. I’ve led community mural projects that brought people together to paint shared stories onto walls that belonged to everyone. Those experiences taught me that art can hold both pain and hope at once, which often makes it the most human response to injustice. So, in that moment, far from home, I turned to art. I pulled out my watercolor set and started painting what I felt: grief, solidarity, and a fierce wish for change. I thought about how visual art connects with people beyond language and other barriers, and how it can make people feel what words can't explain.

The ICE Out of Durango Artwork

When I began this piece, I wanted it to visually reflect both the place of Durango and the people affected by the raid.

What I created was a sea of hands forming the shape of a mountain, referencing the San Juan Mountains that surround Durango and shape daily life there. The hands represent collective support, many individuals coming together to hold something larger than themselves. Each hand is painted in a slightly different color to reflect the diversity within the community, emphasizing that solidarity does not require sameness. At the center of the image are the silhouettes of the three people taken in the raid, shown holding hands to represent family, connection, and shared humanity. After finishing the painting, I added the words “ICE OUT OF DURANGO” and shared the image online.

ICE Out OF Durango Artwork Created by Rose LeCompte posted on Instagram @wild.rose_designs

In 2 days, it got over 6,000 views and was reshared by at least 25 people and liked by almost 100. These numbers might seem small to some people, but Durango is only 20,000 people, which means that 10,000 people saw my art, which could be almost half the town. The response showed me how quickly a visual message can move through a community. People shared it, commented on it, and used it as a way to express emotions they were struggling to put into words. That response affirmed the role art can play in moments of crisis: not as a solution, but as a connector. The artwork did not stop the deportations. However, it ensured that what happened did not pass quietly. It held space for grief, anger, and solidarity, and helped keep attention on the people affected rather than allowing the event to fade from memory.

Moving to Action: What Readers Can Do

Art alone can't stop an ICE raid or dismantle an oppressive system, but it can ignite something powerful: a shift in attention, a conversation, a willingness to care. And that shift is where action begins. The truth is not everyone sees themselves as an artist, and that's okay. What matters is not whether you paint or draw or design, but whether you engage with the world around you, rather than just moving through it passively.

Too often, we scroll past headlines without letting ourselves feel the weight of what they mean. We see the injustice happening around us and think someone else will deal with it, or I'm not sure how to help. But engagement doesn’t have to mean organizing a massive protest or leading a movement. It can start with a single moment of paying attention. It can start with refusing to look away.

What I’m asking is simple: don’t consume the world passively. Ask questions. Have conversations. Share what moves you. Allow yourself to sit with discomfort instead of skipping past it.

And when it comes to art, whether it’s a protest sign, a painting, a mural, or a graphic shared online, remember that art isn’t meant to just be looked at. It’s meant to spark emotion, connection, and dialogue. Part of the reason art is such an effective tool for activism is that it transcends barriers of education level, language, age, culture, gender, and race. Art is a universal language. You don’t have to understand every detail of a movement to feel the humanity behind an image. And you don’t have to be an artist to help amplify that message.

So here are real, accessible steps you can take:

• Engage actively with what you see. Pause. Reflect. Let yourself feel something.

• Share work that resonates with you. Your repost or text message can move an image beyond the algorithm.

• Start conversations, even small ones. Ask a friend, “Did you see what happened?” or “What do you think about this?”

• Support local activists and community organizations. Share their posts, attend events, listen to their stories.

• Be present. The first step toward action is awareness, and the first step toward awareness is attention.

These may seem like small acts, but small acts have ripple effects. A single painting reached thousands of people in my hometown. A single conversation can shift someone’s understanding. A single moment of care can build into collective action.

Reflection and Broader Purpose

Engaging with the world through art and dialogue isn't just about reacting to a single moment but building community around care and action. When I think back to the ICE raid in Durango and the days that followed, I realized that my painting wasn't just a response to one single moment. It was an extension of years spent learning how art can connect people, open conversations, and remind communities of their collective strength. Art and artisvism are born from reaction. Artists see something happening around them, something they can’t ignore and feel compelled to respond. When the world becomes too heavy, too unjust, too loud, or too silent, artists turn to their tools: paint, brushes, photographs, words, movement. These creative reactions are not separate from activism. They are activists. They come from the same place: the refusal to be passive. The refusal to just watch and move on.

So when I sat in my dorm room painting “ICE Out of Durango,” I wasn’t doing something new; I was doing what artists have always done. I was documenting a moment, processing grief, and pushing back against indifference. The artwork was my reaction, but it also became a reaction point for others. People saw it and felt something too. They connected with the emotion behind it. They shared it. They talked about it. And that collective response is where art turns into a form of community care.

My “ICE Out Of Durango” painting began as a personal response to an injustice that shook my hometown, but it became a reminder of how art can function as action. By centering people, place, and emotion, art can hold moments of pain while strengthening community connection. Even when it doesn’t change outcomes directly, it resists silence. Engaging with the world through creation, reflection, and dialogue is a powerful first step, and one that continues long after the paint dries.

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Rose LeCompte is a first year student at Pitzer, passionate about art and has spent the last two years studying how art can be used as tool for activism.