This year will be the 17th year of the Migrant Trail Walk, a 75 mile walk from Sasabe, Sonora, to Tucson, Arizona, in solidarity with, and to raise awareness of, people dying in the desert trying to come to the U.S. and fleeing economic and political oppression in their home countries. The walk begins on Memorial Day every year, and takes about 7 days to complete. It’s controversial. In recent years it hasn’t gotten much media coverage, despite the increasingly controversial issues along the U.S. southern border. But, for those who have participated in the MTW over the years, compassion for those being forced to leave their communities for their own safety trumps U.S. exclusionary and xenophobic policies and behavior.
Participants on the MTW are invited to pick among the thousands of white crosses that represent the remains of people’s bodies found in the desert. On each one is a name if the remains were identifiable, the year their remains were found, and the approximate age of the person when they died. Most of the crosses have “desconcido” or “disconcida” or “desconcido/a” on them (Spanish for unknown man, unknown woman, or unknown person whose gender could not be identified due to insufficient data). Thousands upon thousands of remains are unidentifiable because either only a small portion of their remains could be found, often scavenged by desert animals, or because they did not have enough information on them to be able to connect them to a family who has been awaiting word of their loved one’s condition. That means thousands upon thousands of families never get to hear whether or not their loved one made it. They can only presume the person is dead, somewhere in the vast wilderness of the southwestern U.S. or somewhere in Mexico.
It is made clear to the MTW participants that the crosses are not intended to be a religious symbol (most notably, Christian). They are used as simply a marker to represent a human being who did not have to die. The cross has not always been a Christian symbol. It was a symbol of the vast and brutal ancient Roman Empire (31 B.C.E. to 1435 C.E.). Crosses would often line the roads going into major cities, most of which had bodies hanging from them in various states of decomposition or people still alive in various stages of death by suffocation or exposure. Only those deemed a threat to the empire were crucified (hung on a cross to die). And it didn’t take much to be labeled a zealot or a threat. The crosses lining the roads were a very clear warning: “Don’t mess with the Roman Empire.”
The cross was a symbol of empire. Yes, Jesus, was crucified, not as a common criminal, but as a threat to the pax Romana (the peace of the Roman empire—which meant the domination of the empire and people’s willingness to be dominated and oppressed). Today, though many wear crosses around their necks as either a symbol of their religious affiliation with Christianity or as just a popular piece of jewelry, what they’re wearing is a symbol of gruesome oppression of a vast portion of the human population for over 1,000 years.
When I carry my cross on the MTW, it is not just a religious symbol of the power of love to overcome hate. I carry it as the symbol of empire that was under the Roman Empire, except for me it is a symbol of the gruesomeness of the empire of the United States. In our immigration policies, “the threat of death” is listed as an intentional deterrent to those who might dare breach our borders to try to make a better life for themselves and their families. Meanwhile, the number of visas allotted to our closest neighbors are the lowest of any country allied or partnered with the U.S. You cannot convince me this is not racial.
If you are interested in joining the 17th Annual Migrant Trail Walk (May 25-31, 2020), registration is limited to 60 people and will open on March 1st at www.azmigranttrail.com.