No Longer Safe by Default: How Renee Good’s Killing Shatters the Myth of Proximity to Whiteness

Something seismic happened on January 7, 2026 — something that extended far beyond Minneapolis.

When Renee Nicole Good, a 37-year-old U.S. citizen and mother of three, was fatally shot by a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent in broad daylight, the nation watched.

Video circulated.

Outrage swelled.

And yet, the federal government chose not to pursue a civil rights investigation into her killing, even as local leaders who spoke out were themselves investigated.

But the deeper signal from this moment — one that hasn’t been fully said yet — is this:

The presumed shield of whiteness — especially the proximity to male whiteness — is no longer a guarantee of protection when used for justice, allyship, and the defense of Black and Brown bodies.

For decades, movements for racial justice in the United States have leaned on a particular kind of moral logic: that white allies — particularly white women — can use their proximity to societal power to protect marginalized communities.

It’s the image of a wall of white mothers locking arms in front of Black mothers during a march; the belief that a threat directed at one body will be softened if white allyship is visibly present.

But what happened to Renee Good challenges that assumption.

The Myth of Protection Through Proximity

White women have historically occupied a complicated and fraught position in U.S. racial politics: simultaneously central to upholding racial hierarchies and, at times, positioned as symbolic protectors in allyship movements.

In 2026, as images of civil rights protests rippled across media, many invoked a belief that white bodies were safer — and that sacrifice by proximity conferred a kind of short-term shelter within violent systems.

Renee Good’s killing punctures that myth.

Good was not leading a protest. She was described by officials and loved ones as a parent on a morning drive — dropping off her child at school before returning home — when she was shot multiple times by an ICE agent. Despite widely shared video footage, the Department of Justice declined to investigate the agent’s conduct, while focusing instead on local leaders who urged accountability.

This is not merely a procedural decision.

It is a signal.

It says that proximity to whiteness — even white women’s presence in allyship — does not insulate you from state violence or from institutional self-protection when that violence serves a larger political frame.

Why This Moment Is a Break from Past Assumptions

For years, movements like Black Lives Matter embraced a strategy of broad solidarity across racial lines, with white allies visibly present in marches, campaigns, and legislative pushes. The idea was that white participation would act as moral witness and, sometimes, deterrent.

But the assumption underlying that approach was this:

That whiteness or proximity to power protects you from being expendable.

Renee Good’s death, and the federal response to it, demonstrate that this assumption no longer holds.

Good’s killing was not treated as a civil rights crisis.A federal shooting of a U.S. citizen did not automatically trigger the kind of scrutiny and accountability seen in other high-profile cases. Rather, the DOJ chose not to investigate the agent — even as senior prosecutors resigned in protest over the decision.

The message was stark: When institutional interests are at stake, protection will align with power, not with proximity to whiteness.

What This Means for White Allyship

This shift raises a painful but critical question for movements rooted in multiracial solidarity:

If being close to whiteness — or acting with it — doesn’t guarantee safety or influence justice, what does allyship look like now?

The answer cannot be more of the same symbolism.

Allyship cannot be:

• a protective buffer for marginalized bodies

• a photographic moment

• a performative gesture in service of optics

• a marker that lets institutions feel comfortable

Instead, this moment demands a different orientation:

1. Accountability over Visibility White allies must be willing to shift from being seen to bearing witness with intent and consequence, especially when that witness requires challenging their own institutions and interests.

2. Risk Beyond Comfort True allyship may now require movements with marginalized communities that are prepared for discomfort, challenge, and vulnerability — not just moral signaling.

3. Structural Pressure, Not Symbolic Presence The goal can no longer be to present white bodies as shields; the goal must be to dismantle structures that make shields necessary in the first place.

   
   

A Shift in Collective Strategy

Renee Good’s death did not just expose the brutality of ICE enforcement.

It exposed a deeper truth about how power protects itself:

Proximity to male whiteness — once assumed capable of conferring safety — is now a contextual factor, not a universal shield.

That realization should unsettle all of us.

Not because it discourages allyship — but because it demands more honest, more rooted, more accountable forms of it.

The past model — where white participation could signal safety — was already incomplete. But in this moment, it has been publicly discredited as a guarantee.

What remains is a call to deepen our commitments to equity in ways that cannot be recalibrated by optics or proximity.

That is a harder path — but it is also the only one aligned with justice.