Something is happening in Cibola County— and whether we’re ready or not, uranium is back.
Grants Energy, the company seeking to restart uranium mining operations outside San Mateo, recently held a public forum. From all accounts, it was well-received. That in itself is telling. We are entering a new phase—one that no longer asks if uranium mining is returning, but instead asks who will benefit, who will bear the risks, and whether our community is ready to answer either question.
Let me be clear: the answer to that last one, right now, is no.
The resurgence of uranium in the United States is being driven by forces much larger than any one county. President Donald Trump’s executive orders have overhauled federal energy policy with breathtaking speed. These orders have fast-tracked mine permitting, slashed public review periods, and empowered federal agencies to prioritize mineral extraction on public lands—including, potentially, sacred sites. The Department of the Interior has already approved one uranium project in Utah using emergency procedures. More approvals are likely coming—and New Mexico is on the radar.
Mount Taylor—the mountain that towers over Cibola both physically and spiritually—is again being eyed for extraction.
Cibola National Forest officials have said outright that uranium projects here are now “priority projects.” Public records and agency statements suggest the Roca Honda and La Jara Mesa mines are being quietly repositioned for accelerated review. And we now know there are transportation agreements—that contemplate hauling ore through tribal lands and local communities.
Yet amid all this, many of our local leaders seem caught flat-footed. I’ve had conversations with elected officials who were unaware of key developments, unfamiliar with the executive orders, and unsure how to respond to constituents asking tough questions about water, health, jobs, and justice.
We cannot afford to be uninformed or unprepared.
See, mining in Cibola is more than just policy— uranium courses through our blood. We drink it, we breathe it, we live it. We are the people who grew up in, with, and through the historical horrors of uranium extraction. Mining should always be about the residents of the impacted areas: San Mateo, Milan, Grants, Seboyeta, and the Pueblos. Mining in Cibola is about the cancer rates, the sacred land, the school funding, the federal permitting, the states' rights, the tribal sovereignty— and the national security. It’s about the past, when uranium mining built this region’s economy. And it’s about the future, when it might again. So, what should we do?
First, we must talk to each other. Real, honest, difficult conversations about what’s coming— and what we value. That’s why we launched a poetry contest to ask: What would you do if it were up to you to decide whether Mount Taylor should be mined again? We didn’t get any submissions—yet. But we’ll keep asking the question.
Second, our leaders— elected and otherwise— must do their homework.
The Roca Honda project has been in the pipeline for more than a decade. The La Jara Mesa mine has a complicated environmental record. The legal frameworks are shifting. We cannot be caught unaware as decisions are made that will shape our county for generations.
Third, we must insist on respect. Respect for the land. Respect for Indigenous communities who have borne the brunt of uranium’s harms. Respect for residents who want jobs and security—but not at the expense of clean water or public health. Respect means not rushing. It means meaningful public input. It means honesty from companies, transparency from governments, and accountability from all sides.
Finally, we must recognize this moment for what it is: a fork in the road. The nuclear energy renaissance is real. The geopolitical landscape demands domestic uranium.
Cibola must be—deserves to be—more than a pin on a map of mineral deposits. We are a community. And communities must be asked, not told.
Let’s talk about uranium in Cibola. Let’s prepare— not react.
Because it’s happening. And we deserve to be ready.