SPEAK, YOURSELF, ON BEHALF OF THE DUMB,
ON BEHALF OF ALL THE UNWANTED; SPEAK, YOURSELF,
PRONOUNCE A JUST VERDICT, UPHOLD THE
RIGHTS OF THE POOR, OF THE NEEDY
18
Proverbs 31: 8-9
a border checkpoint. Cars roll by slowly,
passing through the checkpoint as they
cross the border. Sometimes they honk in
support; other times the vigil-keepers are
met with somber, knowing eyes.
This past March, as the Canterbury Student Ministries coordinator
at the University of Virginia, I had the
privilege of taking a pilgrimage to the
U.S./Mexico border with 12 University of Virginia undergraduates and a few
other adults from our community. We
passed from one side of the border to
the other, feeling the pulse of the open
wound, hearing the stories of trauma
and resilience on each side. We had the
opportunity to participate in the prayer
vigil in Douglas, shouting the names of
each of the lost souls into the expanse
of the desert they tried to overcome.
“Presente!” we responded. Presente, or:
You are here. We remember.
I cradled one of those white crosses
in my arms with the name of a woman
who was 32 years-old when she died.
Arms and voice trembling from the cold
and from the gravity of her loss, I spoke
her name. She was a daughter, maybe a
mother, maybe a sister, maybe a partner.
And she had lost her life attempting a
passage that took me about 15 minutes
and the quick flash of a U.S. passport.
The situation on the border is
a complex web of geopolitical strategy, market capitalism, drug lords and
corrupt governments. It is also as simple
as a white, wooden cross and a young
woman who dreamt dreams like mine.
And that was the dance we did in our
short week on La Frontera. We moved
through the intricacies of the North
American Free Trade Agreement into
the living room of an abuela who cooks
SUMMER 2016 / VIRGINIA EPISCOPALIAN