Towering steel bollards slice the desert into twin paths. I feel my breath catch with understanding of why its height has been described as a treachery.
photos of the wall are shocking. I've never been in a desert and the bleakness, the nowhere to hide, the heat... just looking at it speaks of desolation and yet that place for all its harshness is not what is causing deaths and suffering, but people -- the few crushing the many. And that's the deepest ongoing shock of all. So grateful for your witness.
Thank you, Jan. I should have also included a video I’ve taken from that same desert that also highlights its lush beauty—just for the juxtaposition. I’ve spent weeks, even months in the same desert (of course with my van and water and food and no one chasing me). Maybe I’ll add it next week.
And you’re right. It’s people—so well put (the few crushing the many).
Thank you so much for your support. I truly appreciate you.
Holly, What an exceptional piece detailing the intensity of the crossing for any attempting it, the heartache, the waiting, the now abandoned asylum seekers, and the monetary burden to the US (that $157 billion is only the start) to chase the immigration 'terror' myth. All so very scary. Sounds like a police state is coming. Thank you for your work on compiling this important information.
Migration is inherent to all life forms and has always been. Before the agricultural revolution, humans followed the harvests of the Earth. Walls crush life. And you capture this powerfully and I'm grateful. <3
Thank you. “Walls crush life.” Heartbreakingly succinct. I could have used it as title.
And you’re so right. Migrating is what we do—as creatures on this earth. It’s how we thrive and spread diversity and keep from crushing stagnation. Fleeing for safety is at once a part of this and apart from it. (I talk about this some in next week’s piece.)
Thank you for reading and for saying this so well, Stephanie.
I spent some time driving along that border a few months ago. The open spaces, where there is no wall, are so surprisingly peaceful--at least to the casual observer. The land is just land, only a meandering river serving as a legal boundary. But we talked to people. The tranquility ends there. What a mess. How can people come the "right" way when no path exists? Thanks for diving into this. I always appreciate your perspective.
With a kiddo in Arizona, I am nothing short of haunted by the contrasts between the beauty and harshness, the gringos and those who belong to that land. I can't reconcile the pain we inflict with what America professes to be. I can't imagine risking the crossing and what it must mean for the life others are trying to leave behind.
"I feel my breath catch in my throat with the sudden understanding of why, in places where this is what the wall is like, its height has been described as a treachery that lives in nightmares, responsible for injury and death."
The hypocrisy makes me choke.
I listened to this piece over the Independence Day weekend. I don't remember who shared it. Maybe you? If not, you may appreciate it. Speaking of...I appreciate you.
Part two is as heart-full and compelling as the first part was. Thank you for witnessing and reporting this, Holly, for persisting in bringing the border and the human stories to us. The wall interrupts migrations of all sorts, from jaguars and Yaqui people to sphinx moth caterpillars and pollinating bats. It is a true monstrosity, a reflection of those who dreamed it into being. On another note, have you queried any traditional publications with this as a piece of personal journalism? I think of High Country News or Grist as potential markets. Blessings to you.
"The wall interrupts migrations of all sorts, from jaguars and Yaqui people to sphinx moth caterpillars and pollinating bats." This is such a good point, Susan. Thank you for forwarding it. A reflection of those who dreamed it into being--exactly. It's difficult to wrap your mind around thinking you'd want something like that monstrosity.
Thank you for pointing me toward those publications. I did originally conceive of this series as not for the Rolling Desk but, rather, for traditional publications; and I did query a handful. But no one was getting back to me. And the news cycle is changing so quickly, it felt like it was constantly out of date; I was needing to rewrite the "now" portions again and again. I finally decided to publish here. But/and I also plan to query traditional pubs now re an ongoing series--more in-depth profiles of the people introduced here and what they're experiencing as the administration carries out its mass deportation plans. So I for sure appreciate you pointing me toward High Country News or Grist (neither was on my list).
Blessings back your way, my friend. I appreciate you.
After living in Arizona for many years, the way you describe the polarity resonates with me. The beauty and the harshness of the desert are a reality.
Years ago, my husband and I were driving home from a summer vacation in San Diego, living our privileged life, when I looked out the passenger window and, in a flash—going 70 miles per hour—I saw someone, another human being, I don't know if male or female, running across the desert border. There was no way to turn back, no place to stop. That image has haunted me for decades.
Oh that is a haunting memory. These fleeting moments can serve to highlight so well what vastly different experiences we are all having of the world. Thank you for sharing it.
I think that's one of my main whys--for writing pieces like this one I mean. If we all were able to witness more clearly more perspectives and experiences, I think it's a step toward a better world.
I didn't realize I was holding my breath until the intense exhale I released at the end of this. I'm haunted. And buzzing. I'm undone by what we do to one another. I'm so grateful for those who help, or at least try. And I know these places. I did so many of my undergrad hours in Puerto Penasco, painting little intertidal snails, wading through tidepools, drinking tequila with the locals on the beach in the dark, fumbling through Spanish lessons to the hilarity of all involved. How do we forget who are brothers and sisters are? How do we criminalize survival? I will never understand. All I can say is thank you for this raw and rending writing. It means something.
Thank you, Kendall. It means something to me that you're reading this writing.
And you said that so beautifully. How do we forget that we're a human family? How do we remind ourselves? I think that's one of my biggest writing whys (or maybe living whys is even more true).
What a wonderful place and way to have spent undergrad hours!
Holly! This is heart-wrenching. Being on the other side of the world my understanding of what’s going on at the US Mexico border is limited. But your poignant powerful words not only made things so much clearer for me, but you also made me feel it. And fuck is it sad and infuriating.
It is also a testament to your writing skills that you can talk about such a difficult subject and still paint it so beautifully. :)
Thank you, Michael. I so much appreciate you reading and feeling the sadness and fury. Yes, this is going on at the US/Mexico border, but versions of the ways we forget we're a human family, the ways we exclude and perpetuate violence on each other can be, sadly, infuriatingly found around the world.
Holly, this, and part 1, are heartbreaking accounts. I could feel my heart racing while gulping back tears as I read through, wondering how it is we hear nothing of the desperate plight of these poor, honest people here?
I wonder, too, when you write "I think of all the ways $157 billion could be spent to improve people’s lives. I think about parallel truths—welcome and spurn, beauty and harshness, calm and chaos, north and south—and about all the lies..." with this already disgusting, almost unspeakable amount, if this money were added to the even higher figure that is ploughed into providing arms to fight shameful wars (that will never end) how many hundreds of thousands more lives could be saved and given new hope?
Thank you, Susie. It's interesting that you're not hearing about the migrants to the United States through Mexico and their plights in France.
And SUCH a good point. The amount of money we spend as a collective human family on causing suffering is impossible to fathom. And when we try to imagine what it could have, instead, fixed, my god, it's hard to swallow.
I very much appreciate you reading and commenting, my friend.
I'm so patriotic and yet am finding it harder and harder to be proud of my nation when such unnecessary cruelty is enlisted and people are clearly profiting from the suffering and loss. "Give us you're tired..."not anymore.
We hired a Mexican who spent six days walking the deserts and seven more getting to Maryland.
Your work on this is important and appreciated. Thank you Holly. J
Thank you, Janice. I appreciate you reading and always appreciate your perspective.
For what it's worth, I think it's OK to remain patriotic--to separate out what we could be, what we aspire to be, what we're moving toward through our actions and votes and stances from the ugliness that has once again taken far too large a grip.
photos of the wall are shocking. I've never been in a desert and the bleakness, the nowhere to hide, the heat... just looking at it speaks of desolation and yet that place for all its harshness is not what is causing deaths and suffering, but people -- the few crushing the many. And that's the deepest ongoing shock of all. So grateful for your witness.
Thank you, Jan. I should have also included a video I’ve taken from that same desert that also highlights its lush beauty—just for the juxtaposition. I’ve spent weeks, even months in the same desert (of course with my van and water and food and no one chasing me). Maybe I’ll add it next week.
And you’re right. It’s people—so well put (the few crushing the many).
Thank you so much for your support. I truly appreciate you.
Holly, What an exceptional piece detailing the intensity of the crossing for any attempting it, the heartache, the waiting, the now abandoned asylum seekers, and the monetary burden to the US (that $157 billion is only the start) to chase the immigration 'terror' myth. All so very scary. Sounds like a police state is coming. Thank you for your work on compiling this important information.
Thanks, Jeanine. It’s awful. And I (like so many) am at a loss as to what can be done. But understanding, witnessing, sharing seems a good small step.
Migration is inherent to all life forms and has always been. Before the agricultural revolution, humans followed the harvests of the Earth. Walls crush life. And you capture this powerfully and I'm grateful. <3
Thank you. “Walls crush life.” Heartbreakingly succinct. I could have used it as title.
And you’re so right. Migrating is what we do—as creatures on this earth. It’s how we thrive and spread diversity and keep from crushing stagnation. Fleeing for safety is at once a part of this and apart from it. (I talk about this some in next week’s piece.)
Thank you for reading and for saying this so well, Stephanie.
Heart breaks. We must be humane, at best and worst.
Yes.
Thank you, my friend. 💕
Admirable reporting; thank you.
Thank you, Sara.
I appreciate you.
I spent some time driving along that border a few months ago. The open spaces, where there is no wall, are so surprisingly peaceful--at least to the casual observer. The land is just land, only a meandering river serving as a legal boundary. But we talked to people. The tranquility ends there. What a mess. How can people come the "right" way when no path exists? Thanks for diving into this. I always appreciate your perspective.
Thank you, Sherry! I appreciate yours too.
And I appreciate you reading and engaging and witnessing on your own travels.
May we as a species move toward doing better.
With a kiddo in Arizona, I am nothing short of haunted by the contrasts between the beauty and harshness, the gringos and those who belong to that land. I can't reconcile the pain we inflict with what America professes to be. I can't imagine risking the crossing and what it must mean for the life others are trying to leave behind.
"I feel my breath catch in my throat with the sudden understanding of why, in places where this is what the wall is like, its height has been described as a treachery that lives in nightmares, responsible for injury and death."
The hypocrisy makes me choke.
I listened to this piece over the Independence Day weekend. I don't remember who shared it. Maybe you? If not, you may appreciate it. Speaking of...I appreciate you.
https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/segments/media-misses-sourthern-border-on-the-media
No I didn’t share. A reader did in comments on the last piece. My mind is momentarily spacing.
Thank you, Elizabeth, for your continued support and wise and thoughtful and heartfelt engagement.
Thank you for sharing such an important story, Holly!
Thank you! 💕
Part two is as heart-full and compelling as the first part was. Thank you for witnessing and reporting this, Holly, for persisting in bringing the border and the human stories to us. The wall interrupts migrations of all sorts, from jaguars and Yaqui people to sphinx moth caterpillars and pollinating bats. It is a true monstrosity, a reflection of those who dreamed it into being. On another note, have you queried any traditional publications with this as a piece of personal journalism? I think of High Country News or Grist as potential markets. Blessings to you.
"The wall interrupts migrations of all sorts, from jaguars and Yaqui people to sphinx moth caterpillars and pollinating bats." This is such a good point, Susan. Thank you for forwarding it. A reflection of those who dreamed it into being--exactly. It's difficult to wrap your mind around thinking you'd want something like that monstrosity.
Thank you for pointing me toward those publications. I did originally conceive of this series as not for the Rolling Desk but, rather, for traditional publications; and I did query a handful. But no one was getting back to me. And the news cycle is changing so quickly, it felt like it was constantly out of date; I was needing to rewrite the "now" portions again and again. I finally decided to publish here. But/and I also plan to query traditional pubs now re an ongoing series--more in-depth profiles of the people introduced here and what they're experiencing as the administration carries out its mass deportation plans. So I for sure appreciate you pointing me toward High Country News or Grist (neither was on my list).
Blessings back your way, my friend. I appreciate you.
After living in Arizona for many years, the way you describe the polarity resonates with me. The beauty and the harshness of the desert are a reality.
Years ago, my husband and I were driving home from a summer vacation in San Diego, living our privileged life, when I looked out the passenger window and, in a flash—going 70 miles per hour—I saw someone, another human being, I don't know if male or female, running across the desert border. There was no way to turn back, no place to stop. That image has haunted me for decades.
Oh that is a haunting memory. These fleeting moments can serve to highlight so well what vastly different experiences we are all having of the world. Thank you for sharing it.
I think that's one of my main whys--for writing pieces like this one I mean. If we all were able to witness more clearly more perspectives and experiences, I think it's a step toward a better world.
Thank you, Paulette. 💕
I didn't realize I was holding my breath until the intense exhale I released at the end of this. I'm haunted. And buzzing. I'm undone by what we do to one another. I'm so grateful for those who help, or at least try. And I know these places. I did so many of my undergrad hours in Puerto Penasco, painting little intertidal snails, wading through tidepools, drinking tequila with the locals on the beach in the dark, fumbling through Spanish lessons to the hilarity of all involved. How do we forget who are brothers and sisters are? How do we criminalize survival? I will never understand. All I can say is thank you for this raw and rending writing. It means something.
Thank you, Kendall. It means something to me that you're reading this writing.
And you said that so beautifully. How do we forget that we're a human family? How do we remind ourselves? I think that's one of my biggest writing whys (or maybe living whys is even more true).
What a wonderful place and way to have spent undergrad hours!
Holly! This is heart-wrenching. Being on the other side of the world my understanding of what’s going on at the US Mexico border is limited. But your poignant powerful words not only made things so much clearer for me, but you also made me feel it. And fuck is it sad and infuriating.
It is also a testament to your writing skills that you can talk about such a difficult subject and still paint it so beautifully. :)
Thank you, Michael. I so much appreciate you reading and feeling the sadness and fury. Yes, this is going on at the US/Mexico border, but versions of the ways we forget we're a human family, the ways we exclude and perpetuate violence on each other can be, sadly, infuriatingly found around the world.
May we remember. 💕
Well said Holly. May we remember 🙏
Holly, this, and part 1, are heartbreaking accounts. I could feel my heart racing while gulping back tears as I read through, wondering how it is we hear nothing of the desperate plight of these poor, honest people here?
I wonder, too, when you write "I think of all the ways $157 billion could be spent to improve people’s lives. I think about parallel truths—welcome and spurn, beauty and harshness, calm and chaos, north and south—and about all the lies..." with this already disgusting, almost unspeakable amount, if this money were added to the even higher figure that is ploughed into providing arms to fight shameful wars (that will never end) how many hundreds of thousands more lives could be saved and given new hope?
I choke back tears of disgust and despair...
Thank you for these so important words.
Thank you, Susie. It's interesting that you're not hearing about the migrants to the United States through Mexico and their plights in France.
And SUCH a good point. The amount of money we spend as a collective human family on causing suffering is impossible to fathom. And when we try to imagine what it could have, instead, fixed, my god, it's hard to swallow.
I very much appreciate you reading and commenting, my friend.
I'm so patriotic and yet am finding it harder and harder to be proud of my nation when such unnecessary cruelty is enlisted and people are clearly profiting from the suffering and loss. "Give us you're tired..."not anymore.
We hired a Mexican who spent six days walking the deserts and seven more getting to Maryland.
Your work on this is important and appreciated. Thank you Holly. J
Thank you, Janice. I appreciate you reading and always appreciate your perspective.
For what it's worth, I think it's OK to remain patriotic--to separate out what we could be, what we aspire to be, what we're moving toward through our actions and votes and stances from the ugliness that has once again taken far too large a grip.
Bridges for blockades.
We can act with vile cruelty
and with fierce kindness.
Thank you, Marisol. Your poetic responses always touch my heart deeply.
Tired, grief-stricken some.
Others, ready for the kill.
We’re still tribal apes.
...
Hopeful, joining hands,
heads, hearts, for now and for next.
We’re also wise souls.
💕💕💕