This Philadelphia ICE protest and the ‘Storm Area 51’ run share an anime inspiration
“Our ninja sprints have the power to demonstrate our unrest, and our power levels are unmatched.”
Two seemingly disparate Facebook events — one relating to Area 51, the other to the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement — in two vastly different settings (Nevada and Philadelphia) share one surprising link.
In July, several hundred thousand Facebook users responded to an event titled “Storm Area 51, They Can’t Stop All of Us,” which proposed the attendees meet up on Sept. 20 at the Nellis Air Force Base Complex, otherwise known Area 51. After gathering around it, they would charge the heavily guarded base all at once to “see them aliens.”
The event gained the attention of national media, including the Washington Post, which asked the Air Force whether authorities were ready to respond to anyone attempting to enter the complex. An Air Force spokesperson was mum about any possible plans or security specifics, but stated that the military branch “always stands ready to protect America and its assets.” The coverage prompted thousands more to respond to the event, which now has more than 3 million respondees.
Meanwhile, in Philadelphia, 30-year-old South Philadelphian Jeremy Sims posted his own Facebook event — “Naruto Run to shut down DHS ICE Philadelphia” — after reading a viral Inquirer op-ed that recounted a woman’s experience trying to locate friends detained by the agency.
What, one might ask, do these two events have in common?
The “Naruto run,” a fictional style of running introduced to the world by the character Naruto Uzumaki, a blond-haired, whisker-faced ninja in the popular Japanese anime TV series of the same name. The runner’s pose is unusual: slightly bent forward, chest pushed out, arms flung straight back to the sides, as if to minimize wind resistance.
While Naruto premiered in 2002, its trademark running style first became a reality sometime back in 2008, via a WikiHow page that taught readers how to run like Naruto in seven easy steps. (“Tilt forward about 30 to 40 degrees. Don’t lean too far, or you’ll run the risk of falling on your face.” “Don’t swing your arms or move them around,” “Naruto-style running uses different leg muscles than normal running, so it will probably be hard at first. Keep practicing,” etc.)
In time, enthusiasts began re-creating the lunge-like motions in YouTube, Vine, and anime cosplay videos. Eventually, various Naruto runs were organized, in New Zealand and Singapore, Philadelphia, and Central Park.
The Area 51 meetup invited its attendees to “naruto run, [so] we can move faster than their bullets.” Having caught the attention of the U.S. military, the Nevada prank marks the height of this meme’s visibility.
Sims’ Naruto run is intended seriously, although it doesn’t actually encourage protesters to charge the ICE office.
Sims, a self-described geek who grew up on Studio Ghibli and Dragon Ball Z in Texas, where he says the current national anti-immigration rhetoric is standard, was aware of the ongoing push-pull between local officials and federal immigration agencies. He had already seen the Area 51 event when he read the Inquirer op-ed. What followed was a lightbulb moment.
“One amazing thing about many nerds is the amount of folks who are in that culture and are very, very organized,” Sims said. Though he had never organized a protest before, he envisioned creating one that would appeal to others like him: introverts, comic con-goers, cosplayers, people who may be intimidated by a more traditional protest.
“We’ve all grown up watching hundreds of protagonists do ridiculous things to take down tyrants and monsters,” he said. “I was thinking of using the vocabulary I know for empowerment, self-love, and fighting back against bullying by embracing absurdity.”
“Our ninja sprints have the power to demonstrate our unrest, and our power levels are unmatched,” he wrote in the event’s Facebook description, asking others to descend on the city’s ICE building, backs bent, arms flung back.
But his vision of the protest continued to evolve. In a later iteration, marchers might don Sailor Moon and Pokemon outfits and bear clever, pop culture-referencing signs advocating to abolish ICE. Whatever the end result was, he knew he wanted to use the power of the Naruto run to create something meaningful.
“I liked using Naruto as source material because that generation of anime is just completely bonkers,” Sims said. “It’s like a caricature of absurd hypermasculine tropes, which to me is a perfect medium to counter the toxic, gaslight-style rhetoric coming as high up as the White House.”
Ultimately, Sims decided not to literally Naruto run at the ICE office. With the help of local activist groups like the Philadelphia Socialists, Sims crafted a protest plan that would march his permitted event around the ICE Building on North Eighth Street. With speeches, geeky passion, and a response plan for counterprotesters in tow, Sims hopes the day will not only illustrate the power of collective social engagement, but also apply pressure on local government to further refuse cooperation with ICE.
“If they see big numbers at a protest, even if we’re shouting at ICE agents to shut up and go pilot the EVA [another anime TV reference], the implication of protesters finding commonality speaks volumes,” Sims said. “Tom Wolf and Jim Kenney can be doing more and... [if] ICE agents have group meetings explaining what a Naruto is, that’s the cherry on top.”