I have spent over 40 years mediating disputes, small and large, local, regional and national, mostly about environmental and natural resource issues. I have loved being a peacemaker – not every minute, but most minutes. I never doubted that I was on the side of good, helping people find that elusive common ground. Surely, it’s good to bring people together, help them negotiate, compromise and find a mutually acceptable solution.  

So, how can it be that I no longer have an appetite for making peace, especially when we seem on the brink of war, civil or otherwise? This is how I see it:  The big issues are not to be mediated into a nice solution. No one should be asked to negotiate away their constitutional rights, their safety, their livelihood. The common ground is charred and barren. Today’s most critical conflicts need judicial and congressional action, and I am praying that the action is swift and just.

And where does that leave the former peacemaker? As I said last month, I am focusing on local needs, and I’m adding to the noise – sending money to causes I believe in, making phone calls to Washington to stop the madness, cheering on leaders who are speaking out. That’s all good, but the administration’s “move fast and break things” strategy — so destructive, here and abroad — has already touched me, my family members and close friends. Not only have I lost faith in peacemaking, I confess I am drawn to the dark side. Even from my position of privilege, I feel the anger and the fear, the helplessness, and I want to fight back. I have fantasies of taking revenge.

But lest you call the authorities on me, I promise my actions to date are non-violent.

I joined a march and protest two weeks ago at the New Mexico state capitol. Organized by Somos Un Pueblo Unido, it was a rally in solidarity with the large and important immigrant community in our state. The day was warm, the sky clear blue and cloudless — weather that invited people to gather and celebrate the strength and diversity immigrants bring to the state. Over a thousand gathered outside the capitol building which is known as the Roundhouse (because it is round), and lends itself to demonstrations and gatherings of all kinds. There were three clusters of a few hundred, each with a speaker, or music, or open mic, and there was plenty of room to mingle and wander, circularly.

I had arrived full of anger. I left an hour later calm and full of hope. The crowd was a large majority Hispanic/Latino, from Mexico and Central America, and there were a ton of young people, teens and twenties, full of energy, having fun, and without fear. There was an atmosphere of good will, inclusion, and optimism. Hearing the speeches, music, and chatter there was no doubt that this was a powerful community that would survive and thrive in spite of administration priorities. I took some pictures (careful not to show faces), but I missed one that was emblematic of the event.

In front of the main door to the building is a large statue by Allan Houser called “Morning Prayer.” As I was leaving three young Hispanas were posing in front of the statue. They had asked a New Mexico State policeman, in full uniform – one of many patrolling the event – to please take their picture for them. He was finishing, handing them back the phone; they were laughing and thanking him. They chatted a moment, then he waved, and smiling, turned to leave. I continued to my car, grateful for that image.

So, I guess I’m not as full of vengeance and anger as I thought. There is a little corner in my soul that warmed to that scene. The policeman and the young immigrants sharing a joyful moment, on a patch of common ground, finding peace.