“To damage the earth is to damage your children”, Wendell Berry, farmer and poet
Thousands are crossing the border in boats across a river into Southern Mexico. The shuttlers drop them off under cover of the jungle to avoid Mexican border patrol. The people scurry in small groups through the green and start their 100 mile walk to a place where they’ve been told there will be a shelter; a shelter that will receive them and where they can get help to travel North to the United States to find work and safety. Single young adults, without certainty, walk not knowing where their water and food will come from, while carrying their meager belongings in small backpacks. Many have a contact in the United States on their phone, that promised them a job once they get there. They nurse their blisters; they tighten their belt when hungry; they wait for the dark of night to travel. Hardship born out of trauma, poverty, and an economy based on corruption.
At the same time, thousands of young adults are setting out on their first 100 miles from the Mexican border going North on the Pacific Crest Trail. They are following a well-marked trail; they form small groups, called ‘tramilies’ (trail families) as they make their way North. Their goal is the Canadian border. They are taking a break from the safety and comfort of their everyday lives. They are taking a break from the stress of modern living to get to know themselves better. Many of them won’t get past the first 100 miles. They find out they aren’t cut out for dealing with the daily grind of walking miles, nursing blisters, fighting tiredness, monotony and uncertainty. Those who make it past the first 100 miles find a new connection to themselves, nature, the wide vistas, and the challenge the trail gives them. They carry their shelter on their back; they use an app on their phone that tells them where they can find the next camping spot, the next water, the next place to re-supply. Self imposed hardship with an edge of privilege.
For the last 9 years, I have joined hundreds of such hikers to walk sections of the Pacific Crest Trail. A hundred miles, two hundred to four hundred miles at a time. I left the comfort of home to test my endurance, to find my belonging, and to give myself a new perspective on living. Each year, it rewarded me with new insights, peace of mind, and a healthier body. On and off trail I met people who shared what they had with me; I found new enduring friendships; I learned friends are everywhere I walk and that trail angels do exist. I had a job that gave me paid time off to explore the wilderness and allowed me to come back to the certainty a steady income provides. You can say I have led a privileged life, to be able to walk in safety, with enough money to take care of my needs. My yearly treks continued into retirement.
I came to this country in my early twenties, legally, on a green card. The sponsorship and protection of an American family made this possible. I didn’t have money. My enthusiasm, my adventuresomeness, my educated brain and willingness to work is what I brought. I had what so many young adults from Middle America are attempting to get: legal entry, safety, and protection.
Rhyme nor reason governs the political patterns that affect immigrant lives. Climate change and an ever increasing world population does. Historically, countries have been able to control the influx of people pouring in from other countries by setting up check-points, requiring visas and immigration applications. Desperation makes people circumvent the official entry points. In the countries affected by floods, droughts, war and poverty, a sense of Armageddon, the end of days, causes people to make desperate moves. Walking a 100 miles for a chance of reaching safety doesn’t seem so bad in the face of violence, sex trafficking, lack of food and shelter.
Can the “haves” share? Does this vast country have room for more people, more workers willing to do (slave) labor for minimum wage in exchange for stability in their life? Of course there’s room. Will there be an end to the stream of economic, climate and war refugees? Not likely. Until the pendulum swings and we treat the world as our home and not as a collection of separate, good or bad countries we may or may not call home, we will have people trying to cross our borders. It isn’t only our attitude we’ll have to change. We need to reduce, reuse and share, so there will be enough for everyone; so that the atmosphere can produce healthy air; so water will be a life giving commodity again. As people born into privilege, into a society that protects our rights, we must share this privilege with others who are not so lucky. Earth Day isn’t one day in April, Earth Day is every day. Give back to the earth as much as you can. Share the earth with others.
If you enjoy these blogs, check out my books: "Fly Free, a memoir of love, loss and walking the path" and "Walking Gone Wild, how to lose your age on the trail"