A Different Red Hat

By Linda F.

If you were to look in your closet or a dresser drawer, there's a good chance that you would find a T-shirt in support of, or in protest against, something. Maybe it's for saving the rain forest or it's a rainbow tie-dye supporting the LGBTQ community or it's protesting gun violence. Maybe you might even find a pink hat from the 2017 women's march in Washington, D.C. Your desk drawer might yield one or more of the 43-plus awareness ribbons: pink for breast cancer, red for HIV/AIDS, yellow to support the troops and so on. Wearing particular clothing or accessories to make a statement goes back a very long time. Just think of how long many western cultures have been wearing black garments or arm bands to symbolize mourning.

Recently, a practice that dates back to World War II has been revived in response to the aggressive immigration enforcement activities in Minneapolis. During World War II, Germany occupied many countries in Europe. Poland, France and the Netherlands and maybe Belgium come immediately to mind, but I had only a vague notion (mostly from watching the British TV show Shetland) that Norway had also been occupied. The Germans seized power there in April 1940 and held it until the end of the war in Europe in May 1945. During that time, some Norwegians started wearing a particular red knit hat with a dangling tassel known as a nisselue, symbolizing protest against the occupation and allegiance with the resistance. The practice spread throughout the country, and wearing the hat was ultimately banned by the Germans in February 1942.

Fast forward to January 2026 when Paul Neary, a history buff and employee of the Minneapolis knitting shop Needle and Skein created a pattern replicating the Norwegian nisselue, which people, especially the residents of Minneapolis, could wear to show their opposition to the presence and practices of Federal immigration agents. They called it the "Melt the Ice" hat. The pattern was made available on the knitting website Ravelry for $5.00, with proceeds going to Minneapolis non-profit organizations that support the local immigrant community. The pattern went viral, which led not only to shortages of red yarn in knitting shops, but also to raising more than $650,000 to date from knitters around the country. I'm knitting one myself. If you'd like to check it out (or maybe make one yourself), come see me after church.