At the Border

Turning the bollards into butterflies. The mural at the Migrant Resource Center in Agua Prieta carries a beautiful hope for transformation. Even though the world seems so bleak to me these days, I still do harbor hope in my heart. Hope that the spirit of openness and love in human beings will prevail over the spirit of fear and hatred. And that a better world is possible. In my brain, I know that such a hope defies the logic of where we are on this planet. But in my heart, I know it is in fact happening. And really, what is our choice? To not have hope? To see only the darkness, only the bollards? That way is no way to live this sacred and miraculous life we have been given. The real question is how do we sustain hope in the face of such real and pervasive pain and violence everywhere we look? My own answer is to work on it. Hope doesn't just come by itself. We have to put ourselves into motion creating it. This is what I have seen refugees doing. They are risking thei...

I just finished the book take this bread , quite a page-turner autobiography by Sara Miles. Her life moved from being raised an atheist, to becoming a lefty student in Mexico, a journalist in Nicaragua, a restaurant cook in New York City, and then a Christian convert in San Francisco, immersed in feeding people. She launches a food pantry in a church there to care for the homeless and hungry, taking seriously Christ’s message to his followers to “feed my sheep.” In so doing, she finds herself in a journey of self-discovery seeking to understand what it means to be in communion with others. She realizes that sharing food with everyone else is a calling for her and that it is a sacramental act, making Jesus real - for herself, for those she touches, and for those who touch her. Over the years, I’ve met and gotten to know a good many people like Sara who are motivated, even driven, to walk, not just talk, their deep-set spiritual beliefs and world view. I myself feel spiritually ...

A fellow peace pilgrim and pastor once asked me, “Where do you find your ritual?” I had to pause and think about that. Having been raised in the Catholic Church, which is laden with altars, vestments, prayers, songs, processions, candles, incense, standings up, kneelings, and all that, I figured I didn’t have any ritual in my life these days. And his question made me wonder – is that something I’m missing out on? Should I get some of that, for the sake of my spiritual health? Doing this accompaniment work with refugees on the border here is starting to feel like a daily ritual. Especially in the cold semi-dark of dawn. We don our vests imprinted on the back with the words “ Apoyo a Migrantes. ” We leave the refuge of the Migrant Resource Center, locking it as we go. We walk pretty much silently to the tent on the wall next to the port of entry and awaken our brothers and sisters and the ninos there with a greeting and invitation – “ Hola! Buenos dias! Quieres ir al cent...

They are going to tear out some of the beautiful cottonwood trees along the San Pedro River because of the ridiculous and obscene wall Trump insists on building. In a land of vast arid desert, this precious river oasis has been protected for years through the auspices of the San Pedro Raparian National Conservation Area (SPRNCA), providing shelter and life for much plant and animal life. Now, habitat for up to 21 threatened and endangered species will be disrupted and migration impeded. Scott Feldhausen, a BLM Gila District manager says that especially the jaguar, ocelot, Mexican wolf, Mexican long-nosed bat, and Mexican spotted owl may be impacted by the lighting and physical barrier being built. He wrote in a report: “This unique ecological landscape provides a home to over 250 migrating bird species, 10 species listed under the Endangered Species Act as either threatened or endangered, 12 BLM sensitive species and 28 species of greatest conservation need.” Feldhausen al...

 Up on D Hill, you can see all around this valley in a 360 degree panorama that includes Agua Prieta/Douglas, the sprawling desert scrub lands leading up to the far away mountains, and the road out to where the new section of the barrier wall is being built. It’s the perfect place for a big tower full of high definition zooming cameras and and fleet of border patrol cars. As I walked up the road to the hill, I was passed by at least a half dozen border patrol cars, vans, paddy wagons, and at one point a convoy of camouflage-painted step vans with camouflage-dressed armed men huddled inside. A plane flew low overhead. And as I looked out from the hill, I could see the miles and miles of the wall stretching across the landscape like a scar. I couldn’t see, but know about, the many motion detectors hidden all over the valley. The other day we spotted a surveillance blimp in the distance. There are checkpoints on the roads. The desert itself is used as a weapon. ...

There is a prayer service every Tuesday evening at the Agua Prieta port of entry, U.S. side, led by the Presbyterian service organization Frontera de Cristo . Local and visiting peacemakers and caregivers come together to remember and raise up the migrant lives lost in the crossing of the desert and to bear witness to the hope for a more humane world. The service begins right before sunset with a procession down the street that leads into Mexico. Each person carries a cross with a person’s name and dates of birth and death on it. One by one, names are called out and the crosses are held up to the oncoming traffic while the group responds in unison, “Presente!” The crosses are then laid down on the curb and the process repeats itself until the place of vigiling is reached, right by the entrance into Mexico. This evening, 33 people participated in the service, placing some 240 crosses on the curb for the line of traffic to pass by. The group then gathers in a circle, passing...

Wonderland of Rocks. That’s the old name for the Chiricahua National Monument in Southeast Arizona. It’s otherworldly, like Bryce Canyon in Utah or the Badlands in South Dakota. Hiking through them gave me the feeling of being in a sacred place and made me think about the massive and wondrous geologic history of the earth and about the Apaches who used to live here. The nutshell history: The Apaches were fierce warriors and resisted Spanish colonization beginning in the 1500s. Then, after Mexican independence in 1821, they resisted the flood of Mexican migrants coming to their territory from the south.   Then came the U.S. with its settlers and calvary. In 1886, Geronimo surrendered to the U.S. and the Apaches were “relocated” to reservations in Oklahoma and New Mexico. And we know what has happened after that. I call Cochise and Geronimo to mind. Presente! Being here in the midst of the US militarization against immigrants, I remember the historical context ...

Sandhill cranes migrate here to winter in a man-made lake called the Whitewater Draw. Some 20,000 of them take flight at sunrise and sunset, filling the air with innumerable formations and their mesmerizing chatter (the info posting calls it a “gurgling trill”). It’s an amazing wonder of nature! For me, being there at these times is like going to church. This day being Sunday, we were moved to go again this morning for this ritual, making this our fourth visit in the almost two weeks since we’ve been here. Hallelujah! Watching and listening to the cranes moving in tandem with each other stirs in me not only an awe for Mother Nature, but also a brooding about human nature. Right here in this same terrain, we so severely restrict human migration and think of ourselves as different from each other. We from this side of the border see “the other” coming from the south as virtually a different species, not entitled to live where we live. We don’t want to share the land and waters w...

The steel wall:   The thirty foot high wall being built in the wilderness costs upwards of $20 million per mile. Here, just east of Douglas, they are busily constructing an additional 21 miles. For what? To cause more injuries and deaths for those migrants who have already been pushed into the desert by the existing walls in the border cities (aka prevention through deterrence)? It won’t stop people from coming. They can – and do - still climb up and over over it. And high tech militarization such as cameras on towers, motion detectors on the ground, and drones in the air are already ubiquitous, as are the many border patrol agents in their green and white SUVs. The wall just seems to be an enormous and costly PR stunt for Mr. Trump. And, of course, a very profitable boondoggle for the defense contractors. The emotional wall: Yesterday, we just happened to be at the tent by the wall when a Customs agent came over to bring another of our families across to the U.S. It wa...

Sitting at my writing table with my coffee, I can’t take my mind off the struggling, vulnerable migrants I have been meeting. I keep trying to see through their eyes, maybe feel a little of what they feel. But it’s so hard to imagine, we are living in such different worlds. And we are passing through each other’s lives so quickly, my understanding of them is very impressionistic, to say the least. The other day, I got a slight peek inside the tent by the border wall where our family is staying – mom, dad, and 3 little kids, aged 10, 6, and 4. Really, it’s not a tent. It’s a slew of blankets and tarps draped over a wooden frame. And it is nothing but dark inside. During the day, at least a couple people sit outside the tent talking, waiting for their turn to be called by US Customs and Immigration across the borderline. But others spend their time in the darkness inside. It was cold and raining, so I can only guess how slowly the dreary time passed as they likely huddled beneath...

Since we have begun our work as accompaniers, immigration officials have been letting one family unit across the border per day. Yesterday, a man and his toddler daughter crossed. Today, a woman, a mother of 2 grown sons who also traveled with her along with their small families, was let cross. They had hoped that they would be allowed to cross as one unit, but that was not the case. As we left her sons, their wives, and young children at the tent to return through the border gate, they said “quizas mañana.” Maybe tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow they will get to cross. Tomorrow holds so much promise for these travelers. It is the word of hope. Migrants have made long journeys. For this family they traveled from Venezuela to Columbia, and then through Central America to the US border.  For many there is no hope of mañana. A small group of nuns who work on the border facilitate cross plantings at the desert locations where the bodies of migrants are found. A sacred ceremony is held ...

The tender children, so bright, playful, full of innocent wonder, running, skipping, giggling, drinking chocolate, kicking the soccer ball, rolling on the floor, molding the clay, stacking the blocks – They warmed our space of waiting as if it were their living room, as if it were not just a momentary harbor from the chilling storms, but rather a place to claim for our own. We lingered longer than usual, drinking coffee, like a family, sharing this precious moment of ease. On the walk back, the girls held hands with Melody. We hugged and kissed them good night. This morning, dad said they called me their American Papi.

After arriving in Tucson late on January 14th and making our way to our hosts' house, we awoke to the glorious open sky of Arizona. Lisa and Mark live in the Catalina Mountain foothills and have lovely views of the mountains. And the sky, what a sky. Wide and open. Such openness. Coming from the green mountains of North Carolina, the wide open sky above flat  or craggy mountainedterrain seemed so freeing somehow. Lighter, or more buoyant than the heavier, more closed in greenness of the Blue Ridge.  Like many things are possible here. Why not? You can see for miles. What looks close is really far away. European settlers of the US must have had similar reactions as they made their migration across the great expanses of plains and Southwest. They were, like the migrants today, looking toward the expanse as opportunity, as a destination for a future better life. Like today’s migrants coming to the US's southern border, they or their ancestors were also leaving their homelan...

In this book, Francisco Cantú tells the story of his experience as a man of Mexican heritage who grew up in the Southwest, studied international relations,  became a Border Patrol agent for four years, then worked on behalf of an undocumented friend who was refused readmission to the US when he went to visit his dying mother in Mexico. It is a moving book about personal transformation amidst the truly searing social and political realities of the borderlands. Cantú is a very good reporter and first-person storyteller and doesn't hesitate to reveal his own emotions and dreams. I was riveted.

Our new friend the abuela crossed over to the US early this morning. Yesterday her younger son and his wife and child were admitted separately and are now in the clutches of the customs system. Now it’s her turn. Soon, her oldest son and his wife and child will be taken across. We won’t hear from them after they go, so we can only hope things work out well for them. But the odds are not good. What happens next is that they get taken in custody to Tucson where they apply for asylum. Then they are brought back to Mexico where they must wait until their hearing for asylum. They aren’t brought back to Agua Prieta, though. Likely they will all be dropped off in Nogales, MX and hopefully all of the family will get back together there in the near future. But, then again, they may not all be taken there. We just don’t know. This Trump policy of putting people back into harm’s way in Mexico after they have applied for asylum is called the Migrant Protection Program, aka the ...

Wed, Jan 15 On the Job It’s the first day and we got right to work. Jack took us across the border to the Migrant Resource Center and we immediately did two accompaniments. First, we escorted one young man from the tent on the border wall to our center, and then a young man and his little girl (under two years old). The walk doesn’t take even five minutes, but the streets are dangerous for these migrants. Likely to be hanging around are men who are prone to kidnap a migrant for the sake of getting a ransom from his or her family. Of course, the danger is even greater for women who are at risk of also being raped. We hope to make migrants safer with our presence. On the walks today, I found myself being very alert, checking out the men on the streets, trying to assess how trustworthy they were. Jack says we should probably just be suspicious of everyone. It’s an uncomfortable feeling. We’re like a little team of nonviolent bodyguards on guard against a...

Shipwrecked The world is on the move On board are more shipwrecked souls than successful seafarers Thousands of desperate people die en route, before they can complete the crossing to the promised land, where even the poor are rich and everyone lives in Hollywood. The illusions of any who manage to arrive do not last long. Eduardo Galeano World Refugee Day, June 20, 2019: An unprecedented 70.8 million people have been forcibly displaced worldwide, and 37,000 people are forced to flee their homes every day due to conflict or persecution. ... Or because climate change has meant that they have no food where they live. Or maybe there is no drinkable water because it's been fouled by mining companies, or just dried up. Maybe they lost their land because they've been pushed out by the voracious grab of capitalists and corrupt governments and banks who want to take down the trees or put in plantations of cash crops, or have a carbon tax credit. Or maybe, in the midst of ...

Set mostly in Douglas/Aqua Prieta, this book tells the true story of a young woman born on the Mexican side of the border and raised on the US side who continuously struggles through the injustice, fear, and violence of the immigration system there. The author is an academic who spent four years researching the story, especially getting to know Aida (a pseudonym). But his writing is like a novelist, which means this is very good storytelling. This was a good context-setter for me as I get ready to travel there next week. Not only because it has a lot of history and social information, but also because the life story of Aida reveals so much about the real lives of those living there. There is so much working against the immigrant: racism, poverty, law enforcement, drugs - and the afflicted spirit that comes from having to endure all this. But there is also an indomitable courage and resilience that keeps shining through. I was struck and smitten both. And I am reminded, once agai...

I like the quip I just read on the internet from Caitlin Johnstone: “Start over in the New Year. Also start over whenever you want, as often as you want. Time is an illusion anyway.” I’m 70 years old now. And still I hope for some re-birth. At a New Years Eve party last night, two guys my age laughed that by now they knew themselves pretty well and that it would be bad if they didn’t. I didn’t respond, but thought about that idea. I realized that I'm not really willing to say that I know myself. I’m inclined to agree with the late great Baba Ram Dass (and with Buddhist teaching), that there is in fact no “self” to know. Not that I’ve accomplished that level of enlightenment. I just have this sneaking suspicion that we can't really know our "selfs." And so, I am approaching the future with some wonderings. What will I experience up ahead? How will it shape my sense of identity and well-being? What can come through me that I can offer to others, in the ...