In the Land of 10,000 Lakes, ice fishing feels as Minnesotan as hotdish in a church basement; steady, familiar, almost sacred. During my “Six Days Inside Minnesota,” I couldn’t stop thinking about the people who weren’t protesting or donating, who just seemed to be living their lives while the immigration crackdown unfolded. So I laced up my boots and walked a half mile onto a frozen lake to talk with ice fishermen, wondering if their quiet was peace, perspective, or something closer to indifference. What I found out on the ice wasn’t so simple.