Within the last week, the United States and Israel have entered into open conflict with Iran. Six American service members are now confirmed dead.
That is not abstract.
Somewhere in this country, families received phone calls that changed everything.
It is okay to feel unsettled right now. The world feels volatile. The images are heavy. Missiles streak across the night sky. Air defenses ignite. Leaders speak in absolutes while saying nothing at all.
We are not officially at war. But the atmosphere is tense.
When the world feels uncertain, I find myself thinking about home.
I think about the Zuni Mountains rising quiet and steady against the horizon. I think about the malpais stretching dark and ancient across the land. I think about coyotes calling at dusk and the way the sandstone glows at sunset.
This land is small.
We are closer to each other than we sometimes realize.
I grew up here. I struggled here. As a Yazzie-Martinez student, I often felt like the systems around me were not built with kids like me in mind. But that frustration never replaced my love for this place.
The clay. The trees. The sky that feels endless and protective all at once.
I think of Mother Whiteside, of how she single handedly battled fires on Mount Sedgwick in the Zunis and protected her home and community. She delivered hundreds of babies, and she helped deliver our town.
America is not just a foreign policy. It is not just a military operation. It is land and community and people trying to build lives.
It is normal to feel afraid in moments like this. Fear is not weakness. It is a reminder that what we have is worth protecting.
I am proud to be an American. I am grateful to have been born in New Mexico. I intend to build my family here. I hope to grow old here. I need the systems that protect us to remain steady.
Strength does not only come from missiles and military power. It comes from resilience. From communities that stay grounded when headlines feel overwhelming and residents who continue looking after their family, pets and jobs even in the face of darkness.
Right now, we pray for the safety of our service members.
We honor those who have fallen.
And here at home, Cibola will continue building lives worth defending.
God bless the United States of America. God protect our soldiers in harm’s way and bring them safely home. May this war end swiftly – and may our country be secure.