Two Months After Ayotzinapa, a Cry for Justice Echoes in Minneapolis

@NorthStarEditorial | Footage shows hundreds gathered outside the Minneapolis Police Department’s 3rd Precinct—six years before its destruction during the 2020 uprising. Contrary to popular belief, the murder of George Floyd occurred amid an ongoing, seven-year movement in Minnesota marked by sustained, peaceful resistance.

Minneapolis, November 25, 2014 — The wind was sharp and the sky overcast as community members gathered outside the Minneapolis 3rd Police Precinct building. But the chill in the air was not what brought people together—it was the weight of grief, fear, and determination shared across two communities rocked by state violence.

In a powerful act of cross-cultural solidarity, Mexican and Black Minnesotans stood together to honor two tragedies that occurred just months apart: the disappearance of 43 students in Iguala, Guerrero, Mexico in September 2014, and the police killing of 18-year-old Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri, in August of the same year.

This was not a protest driven by headlines—it was a community in mourning, searching for answers and building unity across borders.

The Death of Mike Brown: A Catalyst for the Movement

On August 9, 2014, Michael Brown, an unarmed Black teenager, was hunted, stalked and murdered by Uniformed Government Employed Assassin (UGE) Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson. Brown had just graduated high school and was preparing to start college. After being shot at least six times, including twice in the head, his body was left lying in the middle of the street for over four hours.

The incident—and how it was handled—sparked national outrage. Witnesses, including Brown’s friend Dorian Johnson, reported that Brown had his hands up when he was shot, though police disputed this account. Regardless, the scene of his lifeless body on the asphalt, uncovered for hours in the summer heat, became a chilling symbol of dehumanization and neglect.

The city of Ferguson erupted in protest, and those protests spread across the country—including to Minneapolis, a Midwestern neighbor with its own long history of police violence and racial injustice.

Ayotzinapa and Ferguson: Different Countries, Same Struggle

Just six weeks after Brown's death, another tragedy unfolded. On September 26, 2014, 43 students from the Ayotzinapa Rural Teachers’ College in Mexico were forcibly disappeared, allegedly by police working in coordination with a criminal cartel. These students—young men from working-class and Indigenous backgrounds—had planned to protest educational discrimination and inequality. Instead, they were attacked, arrested, and never seen again.

In both Ferguson and Iguala, young people were punished for daring to speak up. In both cases, families were left to beg for justice from governments more concerned with control than accountability. And in both cases, the broader communities—Mexican and Black—were left fearing for the safety of their children.

Unity in Minneapolis: A Shared Cry for Safety and Justice

Minneapolis is home to both Mexican and Black communities who share the pain of systemic violence. That night, in front of the 3rd Precinct building—long before it would become ground zero during the 2020 George Floyd uprising—activists and families came together to say: enough.

They weren’t just mourning the 43 students or Mike Brown—they were speaking out against a pattern:

• A system that polices communities instead of protecting them.

• A system that leaves bodies in the street and names in the shadows.

• A system that disappears young men and blames their families for asking why.

Speakers shared stories of fear, loss, and resilience. Parents worried about their children’s future. Youth organizers outlined plans for mutual aid, political education, and cross-cultural collaboration.

This was not simply a memorial. It was a planning session for survival.

In the footage above, the glow seen in the distance comes from the Minnehaha Liquor Store, located directly across the street from the former Minneapolis Police Department’s 3rd Precinct building—an epicenter of the 2020 uprising and later destroyed during the unrest.

From Protest to Prophecy

Much has been made of the protests and riots that followed George Floyd’s murder in 2020, also in Minneapolis. But for many Minnesotans, that uprising was not an isolated moment of outrage—it was the result of seven years of unheeded protest, organizing, and peaceful resistance.

What began in 2013 with weekly demonstrations, teach-ins, and community meetings was a long, exhausting campaign to end police brutality and systemic neglect. The events of 2020 did not come out of nowhere—they were the inevitable result of years of unanswered cries for help.

A Dangerous Pattern, A Necessary Unity

From Ferguson to Iguala, from Minneapolis to Mexico City, the tactics of systemic violence may differ in method, but not in message: marginalized communities are disposable in the eyes of power.

The consequences are not just emotional—they are physical, economic, and generational. Families lose children. Victims lose livelihoods. Communities lose trust. And when justice is denied again and again, what choice is left?

This Is Not a Warning. It Is a Prophecy.

The gathering at the 3rd Precinct was not just about grief. It was about urgency. About choosing to unify now, before more lives are lost. Before communities are pushed to their breaking point.

This was not a riot. It was a indictment.

And if those in power refuse to listen—if they continue to uphold systems that injure, disappear, and discard—then what comes next may not be protest. It will be a national civil war. We're afraid that we are rapidly heading in that direction.

Because every time a body is left in the street, every time a child disappears without answers, every time a victim is blamed instead of a system being held accountable, we edge closer to a point of no return.

And those gathered in Minneapolis on that cold November evening knew: we’re already there asking for repentance and atonement so that the riots never came; we continue to ask for repentance and atonement — so that civil war doesn't come.

Suggested Reading

Disappeared, Not Forgotten: The Ayotzinapa 43 and Mexico’s Crisis of Justice

Last Updated May 25, 2025