Reflection on Maryknoll Monarch’s First Anniversary-
by Esperanza V. Principio, MM
March 18, 2026
As we mark the first anniversary of the Maryknoll Monarch Initiative, I find myself returning again and again to the image of the monarch butterfly. Choosing this name last spring was not simply poetic; it felt like listening to something older and wiser than myself. Every year, monarchs travel from Michoacán and central Mexico into Texas and beyond, crossing the border without hesitation. They do not see steel, concrete, or checkpoints. They move with instinct, with trust, with purpose.
Protesting on behalf of the immigrants and migrants who cannot.
And when the great dust storms rise between March and May, they too cross freely, sweeping across both countries as if to remind us that the desert has always been one body. The Chihuahuan Desert stretches more than 1,500 kilometers, from south of Albuquerque to north of Mexico City. Its winds carry stories, seeds, and memory across borders that only humans imagine. In truth, butterflies, dust, and our earliest ancestors all share the same reality: movement is natural. Migration is part of the rhythm of life.
I think back to March 18, 2025, when we launched the Initiative at Cristo Rey Parish with our gathering on Hope and Resilience on the Border. We created this space because the suffering of migrants and the exhaustion of those who accompany them was too heavy to ignore. That day, five migrant-serving institutions came together with the migrant accompaniers, who were mostly church people and volunteers, not just to analyze policies, but to face the human cost of those policies and to imagine concrete steps toward compassion and justice. It felt like planting a seed in dry ground and trusting that something would grow.
In Native American traditions, dust storms are a call to restore balance between people and the land. The Ysleta del Sur Pueblo (Tigua) of El Paso reminds us that wind, rain, river, and mountain are living beings, interconnected and purposeful. Their worldview has helped me see the desert not as an obstacle but as a teacher.
So as part of our anniversary offering on March 21, 2026, we returned to the dust storm of 2025 not as a disaster, but as a moment of revelation. We invited a scientist recommended by the United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification (UNCCD), someone who could help us understand the desert’s language through a scientific lens. That gathering opened new pathways of conversation among government, private sector, church, and academic partners about what it might mean to work together on Greening the Chihuahuan Desert. It felt like the beginning of a long, hopeful journey.
This year, I find myself listening more closely to the wind, to the dust, to the fragile wings of monarchs, to the native plants we are learning to propagate, and to the shifting patterns of life along the border. The challenges are real, but so are the opportunities. The land keeps teaching us that resilience is not loud; it is steady, nonviolent, patient, and communal.
As I look back on this first year, I feel grateful for everyone who has walked with us: The MKS CLT, Elvira Ramirez, Daniel Lizarraga, Duncan Hilton, Maria Torres, and those who share our story, our mission, and our hope. Together, we are learning to see ourselves as one human family on one living planet, the home our Divine Creator entrusted to our care. And like the monarchs, we keep moving forward, trusting that the path will reveal itself as we go.
Compelled by faith to engage with people across cultures and ethnicities, Maryknoll lay missioners live, love and work with communities on the margins to promote active nonviolence and healing.
