Women's March Targets Law Enforcement, Ignores Violence Against Women

Paul Riverbank, 12/2/2025Women's March ad sparks fierce debate over law enforcement, activism, and women's safety priorities.

The commercial opens in a soft register, with an ICE agent’s daughter offering the simple question, “How was your day?” But tenderness quickly evaporates. Scenes follow of masked officers bursting through doors, glass panes collapsing in shards, and the wails of children and elders echoing in the background. “A mask can’t hide you from your neighbors, your children, from God,” the narrator intones. “They’ll know. You can walk away, before the shame follows you home.” It’s the kind of messaging that doesn’t so much ask for reflection as demand it.

Social media, predictably, lit up. Women’s March didn’t just leave the controversy on the screen; their social posts doubled down: “ICE agents are being recruited everywhere online and in-person. Immigrants are being kidnapped, families are being ripped apart, communities are living in fear. Before you accept the sign-on bonus to terrorize families, ask yourself: When your kids ask what you did at work today, what will you say?... Because history never forgets. And neither will we.”

Within hours, Madison Sheahan, ICE’s Deputy Director, weighed in with obvious frustration, calling the ad “disgraceful and anti-American.” She made her rebuttal clear, listing off the types of offenders ICE pursues—“Child predators, murderers, gang members, rapists”—drawing a sharp line between law enforcement and the portrait the spot paints.

Online pushback followed suit and was nothing short of scathing. “This ad is BEYOND evil,” one commentator erupted. For some, emotion bled into exasperation: “Feminists against those who protect women. Great call, ladies.” The sense of betrayal ran deep. Critics pointed to recent local tragedies—murders of women by repeat offenders, noting the group’s silence on those cases. “The Women’s March org NEVER ran a single ad after Iryna Zarutska was stabbed to death on the light rail... Nor did they run a single ad on Logan Federico who was murdered by a man with 39 previous charges,” posted Matt Swol. “What happened to actually caring about women? I don’t understand.”

Some see a familiar pattern resurfacing, only rebranded. Elizabeth Barcohana, reflecting a broader anxiety, observed, “Defund the Police and police abolitionism never went away. It just took a new form.”

The true ground zero here isn’t a policy paper or even an ad retailer—it’s the mounting friction around law enforcement, community safety, and the tactics activist organizations believe are necessary. For those who consider ICE an essential shield against danger, the ad reads as a smear. For those concerned about the human toll of immigration enforcement, it’s overdue criticism.

Watchers on both sides worry these personalized attacks against agencies, especially when painted with a broad and emotional brush, only add fuel to an already volatile civic atmosphere. It’s a dilemma: at what point does scrutinizing a federal policy become condemnation, not just of the institution, but of neighbors working within it?

More than anything, the ad forces a raw question to the forefront: how are Americans supposed to have hard conversations if every disagreement gets recast as villainy? In the aftermath, the answer to that is far from clear—except perhaps this: the fight over who defines right and wrong in public life is nowhere near cooling off.

The latest video ad from Women’s March, currently airing in Charlotte, has sent North Carolina’s public sphere into a tailspin, stretching debate far beyond city limits. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill campaign spot—it’s a calculated provocation, leading viewers directly into a gut-punch.The commercial opens in a soft register, with an ICE agent’s daughter offering the simple question, “How was your day?” But tenderness quickly evaporates. Scenes follow of masked officers bursting through doors, glass panes collapsing in shards, and the wails of children and elders echoing in the background. “A mask can’t hide you from your neighbors, your children, from God,” the narrator intones. “They’ll know. You can walk away, before the shame follows you home.” It’s the kind of messaging that doesn’t so much ask for reflection as demand it.Social media, predictably, lit up. Women’s March didn’t just leave the controversy on the screen; their social posts doubled down: “ICE agents are being recruited everywhere online and in-person. Immigrants are being kidnapped, families are being ripped apart, communities are living in fear. Before you accept the sign-on bonus to terrorize families, ask yourself: When your kids ask what you did at work today, what will you say?... Because history never forgets. And neither will we.”Within hours, Madison Sheahan, ICE’s Deputy Director, weighed in with obvious frustration, calling the ad “disgraceful and anti-American.” She made her rebuttal clear, listing off the types of offenders ICE pursues—“Child predators, murderers, gang members, rapists”—drawing a sharp line between law enforcement and the portrait the spot paints.Online pushback followed suit and was nothing short of scathing. “This ad is BEYOND evil,” one commentator erupted. For some, emotion bled into exasperation: “Feminists against those who protect women. Great call, ladies.” The sense of betrayal ran deep. Critics pointed to recent local tragedies—murders of women by repeat offenders, noting the group’s silence on those cases. “The Women’s March org NEVER ran a single ad after Iryna Zarutska was stabbed to death on the light rail... Nor did they run a single ad on Logan Federico who was murdered by a man with 39 previous charges,” posted Matt Swol. “What happened to actually caring about women? I don’t understand.”Some see a familiar pattern resurfacing, only rebranded. Elizabeth Barcohana, reflecting a broader anxiety, observed, “Defund the Police and police abolitionism never went away. It just took a new form.”The true ground zero here isn’t a policy paper or even an ad retailer—it’s the mounting friction around law enforcement, community safety, and the tactics activist organizations believe are necessary. For those who consider ICE an essential shield against danger, the ad reads as a smear. For those concerned about the human toll of immigration enforcement, it’s overdue criticism.Watchers on both sides worry these personalized attacks against agencies, especially when painted with a broad and emotional brush, only add fuel to an already volatile civic atmosphere. It’s a dilemma: at what point does scrutinizing a federal policy become condemnation, not just of the institution, but of neighbors working within it?More than anything, the ad forces a raw question to the forefront: how are Americans supposed to have hard conversations if every disagreement gets recast as villainy? In the aftermath, the answer to that is far from clear—except perhaps this: the fight over who defines right and wrong in public life is nowhere near cooling off.