One hundred years from now, on the eve of the second centennial of New Mexico statehood, New Mexicans will access video images of a woman dancing gracefully with a tall partner, alone on a dance floor in Las Cruces, surrounded by citizens celebrating her forthcoming inauguration as governor of the state. Some will comment on the old fashioned clothing worn by onlookers; others, intrigued by the persuasively elegant dancing, will browse through historical compendiums to find out how well she fared in governing the state.
Historians will record that on that evening, 40 miles to the south, Cd. Juarez was setting a new record in homicides, for the second year in a row, earning a statistical reputation as the most violent city in the world. New Mexico's financial situation was dire, the product of poor national performance and years of increasing corruption and cynical mismanagement. The state's educational system was ranked between 47 and 49 out of 50, in student performance, depending on the agency doing the ranking. Jobs were scarce, poverty was growing, and confidence was sinking. The dancing woman will be judged on how well historians believe she responded to these challenges. There will be room for some debate around the edges but the weight of evidence will be strong enough to render a fairly solid judgment; but on this side of the historical divide we cannot know what it will be.
Decades ago as a young man I found myself in an audience of people my age, listening to a panel of experts discussing the civil rights movement, then one of the two major political upheavals of the era. Young black students demanded faster change; older panelists cautioned them for patience--a classic generational confrontation. At the end of the heated session one of the panelists looked up at us and said something I still remember vividly. Fifty years from now, he said, you will look back on your life and reflect on the historic battles of your lifetime, and you will want to evaluate your own role as a citizen as these battles passed through your life. Most of you, looking back at the civil rights movement will say, "yes, racial relations needed fixing. Brave people traveled to Selma and Birmingham, and other battlegrounds, fighting for the cause of racial justice. I'm glad they did that." Another group, much smaller, will say, "yes, I remember Birmingham and Selma during the civil rights movement. I was there." I have never forgotten those words from the soon-to-be Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall. They made a difference in some of the decisions I've made, and I've passed this advice on to many of my students. Each of us must make up our minds where "there" is, which side we are on, and what we will do about it.
I've enjoyed working on this blog immensely over the past two years, focusing increasing attention on the wars of Juarez. These are our neighbors and New Mexicans should be aware of what is going on there. I know something about these wars and I've tried, discretely, to pass some of this knowledge on to others. Lately, though, as you may have surmised from my low level of productivity, I've been occupied by other things. So it is my duty to announce to you now this will be my last entry, at least for a while. On Monday morning I will begin a public, official life, in which my opinions about most things, including Juarez, should be kept very private. Indeed, I am probably pushing my luck (I sought no approval for this entry) with about-to-be-constituted authority to slip this last blog in before my official start day. Let me end by saying there was just no way I could turn down the invitation by the dancing woman to join her for a different kind of dance, the dance of governance, and thereby throw my grain of sand into the movement of history in our time. Wish me well.
At the risk of repetition and straining the reader's patience, let me leave you with a poem I copied here two years ago, but which relevant today:
Defenseless under the night
Our world in stupor lies
Yet, dotted everywhere, ironic points of light
Flash out, wherever the Just exchange their messages
May I, composed like them of Eros and of dust
Beleaguered by the same negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame