Good People

Most people are good, I tell myself as I drive to my customer service job. I work seasonally at a bookstore in the twelfth-biggest mall in the world, meaning I encounter my fair share of Karens. I decided when I woke up today that this would be my motto, for my own sanity and peace of mind.

Most people are good. I wish I'd had these words handy when a woman yelled at me the day before Christmas because I couldn't let her return her puzzle without a receipt. I called my manager over to handle it, stepping aside and allowing my eyes to glaze over as he authorized the return. The customer thanked my manager, saccharine-sweet. I refused to look at her until she was gone.

The thing you should know about me is that I'm not a nice person. People are often shocked to hear me say this. They tend to rush to my defense, which I suppose is a good thing. But my temper runs hot, and without full-time work or health insurance, I'm Prozac-less. I was much closer to yelling back at that Karen than she probably realized. Most people are good, but not me.

Most people are good. I adopted this mantra on January 7th, 2026, an hour before thirty-seven-year-old Renee Good was murdered by ICE in South Minneapolis. Four ICE agents in two vehicles approached her red Honda Pilot that was blocking the road. As she attempted to steer away from the scene, three shots were fired into her car. Her vehicle continued to move and crashed into a light pole several feet down the street. ICE obstructed a bystander who tried to offer medical care.

A Department of Homeland Security spokesperson claimed that Good had “committed an act of domestic terrorism” that morning.

Renee Good was a poet, wife, and mother of three. She was murdered by ICE, whose stated mission is to “preserve national security and protect public safety.”

Renee Good was murdered, and Minneapolis is grieving.

At 3 p.m. on January 7th, an unkempt, middle-aged man in gray sweatpants enters the bookstore I work at in the twelfth biggest mall i