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America’s youth face a moral and parental crisis. Pauline Rogers calls for repentance, renewal, and restoration of family, faith, and responsibility.
Getty Images, Elva Etienne
The Aborted Generation: When Parents and Society Abandon Their Post
Oct 30, 2025
Across America—and especially here in Mississippi—we are witnessing a crisis that can no longer be ignored. It is not only a crisis of youth behavior, but a crisis of parental absence, Caregiver absence, and societal neglect. The truth is hard but necessary to face: the problems plaguing our young people are not of their creation, but of all our abdication.
We have, as a nation, aborted our responsibilities long after the child was born. This is what I call “The Aborted Generation.” It is not about terminating pregnancies, but about terminating purpose and responsibilities. Parents have aborted their duties to nurture, give direction, advise, counsel, guide, and discipline. Communities have aborted their obligation to teach, protect, redirect, be present for, and to provide. And institutions, from schools to churches, have aborted their prophetic role to shape moral courage, give spiritual guidance, stage a presentation, or have a professional stage presence in the next generation.
Today’s youth are being raised not by elders but by algorithms. They seek wisdom on Google, affirmation on TikTok, likes and hearts on Facebook, Instagram, X (formerly Twitter), and identity through the eyes of strangers on Snapchat. The home, once the first classroom, has become silent, replaced by phones, screens, tablets, noise, toys, courtrooms, prison dayrooms, and more frequently the cemetery. Too many parents have chosen comfort over correction, friendship over firm love, and convenience over consistency and chastisement.
But the failure extends beyond the family. Society at large has normalized neglect. We glorify rebellion in music, reward vanity in media, and confuse visibility with value. Even the church at large, my own beloved institution, the core of my being, has sometimes become more invested in attendance than accountability, more focused on programs, personalities in the pulpit, performance than principles, standards and structure.
We are seeing the fruit of our collective withdrawal. Children are brilliant but broken, confident but confused, connected but cold, creative yet cruel, distinguished but disconnected, extraordinary but easy, fearful yet fearless and separated from truth. They are attempting to navigate life without a compass because the adults who were supposed to hand it to them were too busy, too bitter, too buff, too beautiful, too boogie, or too broken to do so.
The Family in Decline
The numbers confirm what our eyes already see. Nationally, only 65% of children live with two married parents—a steady decline from previous generations (childstats.gov). In Mississippi, that number drops even further: 44% of children live in single-parent households, one of the highest rates in the nation (magnoliatribune.com).
Behind every statistic are children struggling to find balance in homes where one parent is often forced to carry the entire load. According to the Mississippi Office of the State Auditor, fatherless male prisoners cost the state $180 million annually in incarceration expenses, while 70% of high school dropouts come from fatherless homes (osa.ms.gov). These are not just numbers—they are warning lights flashing across our state’s conscience.
When we talk about poverty, we must also talk about parenthood. Nearly 47.6% of single-mother households in Mississippi live in poverty, compared to much lower rates among two-parent homes (mississippifreepress.org). The problem is not just economic—it’s emotional, moral, and generational.
Children Raising Themselves
Without present and engaged parents, youth are being “parented” by digital influencers instead of real mentors. Studies show that father absence increases the risk of depression, loneliness, and substance abuse in adolescents (pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov). Young people without stable adult guidance are more likely to drop out, face incarceration, or struggle with identity and belonging (fathers.com).
In other words, absence is not neutral; it is a seed of chaos. When family breaks down, so does community. And when a community fails, the nation suffers.
A Biblical Mirror: The Untoward Generation
The Bible speaks directly to this moment. In the Book of Acts, Peter calls on the people to “save yourselves from this untoward generation.” That word—untoward—means wayward, misdirected, bent away from what is right. When I look at today’s culture, I see that same turning away: away from God, away from order, away from accountability, away from boundaries, away from discipline, away from caring, away, away, away, away, away. A generation untoward what is right and moral, untoward accountability, untoward the Bible, untoward direction, untoward chastisement untoward family and friends.
If we are to rescue this generation, we must first repent as adults and forgive ourselves. We must admit that we have been absent while blaming the children for being lost. The healing of this generation begins when we reclaim our rightful place in their lives, not as spectators, but as stewards.
Parents must come home, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. Educators and community leaders, media outlets must re-embrace moral leadership, not just management. Churches must return to discipleship, not just entertainment. And policymakers must stop criminalizing the symptoms of youth despair and start addressing its roots: broken homes, underfunded schools, and hopeless, neglected neighborhoods.
The Untoward Generation, as I call it, is not beyond redemption. What is broken can be rebuilt. But we must stop outsourcing our children’s souls to social media, cell phones, tablets, toys, the latest fads and fashions, and start investing our time, wisdom, and faith back into their lives.
Our youth are not the problem—they are the reflection of our rejection and absence. And until we confront the mirror with honesty, courage, and compassion, the crisis will not only continue but escalate.
It is time for parents, pastors, teachers, media, and neighbors to reoccupy the space we abandoned. Because the truth is simple: when we abort our responsibilities, we give birth to chaos. But when we reclaim them, we give rise to hope.
Mississippi’s Crossroads
In Mississippi, the need for family restoration is urgent. Our state consistently ranks among the highest in child poverty and lowest in educational outcomes (census.gov). The economic cost of child care challenges alone is estimated at $659 million annually in lost productivity (ffyf.org), with too few resources reaching the families most in need. When parents can’t be present because they’re overworked, underpaid, or unsupported, our children pay the price in ways no statistic can fully capture.
A Call to Return
The Untoward Generation, as Pauline Rogers calls it, is not beyond hope, but hope requires honesty. We cannot heal what we refuse to acknowledge. Our youth are not the problem; they are the reflection of us, we the problem, and we the people. And until we confront that mirror with courage and compassion, the crisis will deepen.
It is time for parents, pastors, teachers, and neighbors to reoccupy the space we abandoned. Because when we abort our responsibilities, we give birth to chaos. But when we reclaim them, we give rise to hope.
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A Lesson from Breast Cancer for American Resilience
Oct 30, 2025
Every October, pink ribbons spontaneously appear across the country, buildings are lit in rose hues, and fundraisers pop up in communities. Survivors like me share our stories during Breast Cancer Awareness Month, a celebration of progress and a somber reminder of the work that still needs to be done to eradicate the disease. It’s also a moment to reflect on the virtue of resilience and what it can teach us about endurance, renewal, and our continued capacity to move forward through hardship.
We often hear about resilience in the context of personal struggles. For breast cancer patients, it means enduring the exhausting cycles of biopsies, surgeries, infusions, and medication. It means clinging to hope amidst pervasive fear and the loss of control. My own journey with breast cancer demanded precisely that– the ability to rise again after being knocked down and rebuild strength under adversity.
Resilience means acknowledging the hardships we encounter while committing to moving forward. In everyday life, it’s rarely glamorous. It is a quiet, determined persistence that carries us through our darkest moments.
This capacity to endure – to acknowledge hardship and continue forward – is far more than an individual characteristic. It’s a fundamental human virtue, and one that our society and democracy urgently need.
Consider how resilience has shaped American progress. The suffragists fought for the vote for over eighty years, while the civil rights movement pressed for decades before securing legislative victories. In both cases, decisive breakthroughs transpired only after advocates endured long stretches of resilience in the face of failure and hostility. These movements teach us that resilience isn’t about swift victories or complete conquests. It’s about showing up again and again, even when progress seems impossible.
Today, our nation faces its own test of democratic resilience. Polarization, disinformation, and distrust are eroding the common bonds that unite us as citizens, frustrating many Americans. Some have retreated into cynicism, while others have withdrawn altogether, convinced their voices no longer matter. Just as early detection is crucial in treating cancer, we must recognize the warning signs when citizens lose faith in one another and in the possibility of shared progress.
Resilience doesn’t mean ignoring the challenges we encounter. Instead, it’s the courage to face difficulty with honesty and to persist despite uncertainty. As a breast cancer patient, I discovered that resilience isn’t determined by our level of control over a situation. Rather, it’s measured by our response to adversity.
Democratic engagement works in the same way. None of us can dictate outcomes or win all the time. Civic resilience is returning to the process—arguing in courtrooms, debating in town halls, and voting even when the results disappoint us. It means attending a school board meeting, voting regularly in elections, problem-solving at the local level, or engaging in respectful debate with your neighbor. These aren’t dramatic gestures, but they are the daily practices that keep democracy alive and vibrant.
Since serving as Archivist of the United States, I’ve spoken with citizens across the country about our shared history and what it means to be an American. I’ve been struck by how many people, despite political differences, share the same quiet, inspiring determination: they want to preserve the stories, principles, and institutions that bind us together. The impulse to endure communally as Americans is civic resilience.
Breast Cancer Awareness Month reminds us to care for our physical health through regular screenings and vigilance. It also reminds us to nurture the collective health of our communities and democracy. Just as the body requires ongoing attention to thrive, our institutions flourish only when we embrace resilience as a civic habit—when we refuse to give up on one another, on our communities, and on the possibility of a more perfect union.
Dr. Colleen Shogan served as the 11th Archivist of the United States. She is the CEO of In Pursuit at More Perfect.
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King, Pope, Jedi, Superman: Trump’s Social Media Images Exclusively Target His Base and Try To Blur Political Reality
Oct 30, 2025
A grim-faced President Donald J. Trump looks out at the reader, under the headline “LAW AND ORDER.” Graffiti pictured in the corner of the White House Facebook post reads “Death to ICE.” Beneath that, a photo of protesters, choking on tear gas. And underneath it all, a smaller headline: “President Trump Deploys 2,000 National Guard After ICE Agents Attacked, No Mercy for Lawless Riots and Looters.”
The official communication from the White House appeared on Facebook in June 2025, after Trump sent in troops to quell protests against Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents in Los Angeles. Visually, it is melodramatic, almost campy, resembling a TV promotion.
A June 2025 Facebook post from the White House. White House Facebook accountThe post is not an outlier.
In the Trump administration, White House social media posts often blur the lines between politics and entertainment, and between reality and illusion.
The White House has released AI images of Trump as the pope, as Superman and as a Star Wars Jedi, ready to do battle with “Radical Left Lunatics” who would bring “Murderers, Drug Lords … & well-known MS-13 Gang Members” into the country.
Most recently, on the weekend of the No Kings protests, both Trump and the White House released a video of the president wearing a crown and piloting a fighter jet, from which he dispenses feces onto a crowd of protesters below.
Underpinning it all is a calculated political strategy: an appeal to Trump’s political base – largely white, working-class, rural or small-town, evangelical and culturally conservative.
As scholars who study communication in politics and the media, we believe the White House’s rhetoric and style is part of a broader global change often found in countries experiencing increased polarization and democratic backsliding.
Trump posted a video on the weekend of the No Kings protests of him dropping feces on a crowd of protesters.White House style
In the past, national leaders generally favored a professional tone, whether on social or traditional media. Their language was neutral and polished, laced with political jargon.
While populist political communication has become more common along with the proliferation of social media, the communication norms are further altered in Trump White House social media posts.
They are partisan, theatrical and exaggerated. Their tone is almost circuslike. The process of governing is portrayed as a reality TV show, in which political roles are performed with little regard for real-world consequences. Vivid color schemes and stylized imagery convert political messaging into visual spectacle. The language is colloquial, down-to-earth.
Just as other influencers in a variety of domains might create an emotional bond by tailoring social media messages, content, products and services to the needs and likes of individual customers, the White House tailors its content to the beliefs, language and worldview of Trump’s political base.
In doing so, the White House echoes a broad, growing trend in political communication, portraying Trump as “a champion of the people” and using direct and informal communication that appeals to fear and resentment.
Trump White House social media makes no effort to promote social unity or constructive dialogue, or reduce polarization – and often heightens it. Undocumented immigrants, for example, are often portrayed as inherently evil. White House social media amplifies dramatic, emotionally charged content.
In one video, Trump recites a poem about a kind woman who takes in a snake, a stand-in for an immigrant who in reality is a dangerous serpent. “Instead of saying thanks, that snake gave her a vicious bite,” Trump recites.
Talking to the base
While some scholars have called the White House social media style “amateurish,” that hasn’t resulted in change.
The lack of response to negative feedback is partially explained by the strategic goal of these communications: to appeal to the frustrations of Trump’s deeply disaffected political base, which seems to revel in the White House social media style.
Scholars identify a large number of these voters as “the precariat,” a group whose once-stable, union-protected jobs have been outsourced or replaced with low-wage, insecure service work. These workers, many former Democrats, can no longer count on a regular paycheck, benefits or work they can identify with.
As a result, they are more likely to support political candidates whom they believe will respond to their economic instability.
In addition, many of these voters blame a breakdown in what they perceive as the racial pecking order for a loss of social status, especially when compared with more highly educated workers. Many of these workers distrust the media and other elite institutions they feel have failed them. Research shows that they are highly receptive to messages that confirm their grievances and that many regard Trump as their champion.
Trump and the White House social media play to this audience.
On social media, the president is free to violate norms that anger his critics but have little effect on his supporters, who view the current political system as flawed. One example: A White House Valentine’s Day communication that said “Roses are red, violets are blue, come here illegally, and we’ll deport you.”
In addition, Trump and the White House social media use the president’s status as a celebrity, coupled with comedy and spectacle, to immunize the administration from fallout, even among some of its critics.
Trump’s exaggerated gestures, over-the-top language, his lampooning of opponents and his use of caricature to ridicule whole categories of people – including Democrats, the disabled, Muslims, Mexicans and women – is read by his political base as a playful and entertaining take down of political correctness. It may form a sturdy pillar of his support.
But prioritizing entertainment over facts has long-term significance.
Trump’s communication strategies are already setting a global precedent, encouraging other politicians to adopt similar theatrical and polarizing tactics that distort or deny facts.
These methods may energize some audiences but risk alienating others. Informed political engagement is reduced, and democratic backsliding is increasingly a reality.
Although the communication style of the White House is playful and irreverent, it has a serious goal: the diffusion of ideological messages whose intent is to create a sense of strength and righteousness among its supporters.
In simple terms, this is propaganda designed to persuade citizens that the government is strong, its enemies evil and that fellow citizens – “real Americans” – think the same way.
Scholars observe that the White House projection of the often comical images of authority echoes the visual style of authoritarian governments. Both seek to be seen as in control of the social and political order and thereby to discourage dissent.
The chief difference between the two is that in a deeply polarized democracy such as the U.S., citizens interpret these displays of authority in sharply different ways: They build opposition among Trump opponents but support among supporters.
The rising intolerance that results erodes social cohesion, undermines support for democratic norms and weakens trust in institutions. And that opens the door to democratic backsliding.
Andrew Rojecki is a professor of communication at the University of Illinois Chicago.
Tanja Aitamurto is an associate professor of communication at the University of Illinois Chicago.
King, Pope, Jedi, Superman: Trump’s Social Media Images Exclusively Target His Base and Try To Blur Political Reality was originally published by The Conversation and is republished with permission.
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A "for sale" sign in the area where the Austin, Texas-based group BorderPlex plans to build a $165 billion data center in Santa Teresa, New Mexico.
Photo by Alberto Silva Fernandez/Puente News Collaborative & High Country News
The Desert's Thirsty New Neighbor
Oct 30, 2025
Sunland Park, New Mexico, is not a notably online community. Retirees have settled in mobile homes around the small border town, just over the state line from El Paso. Some don’t own computers — they make their way to the air-conditioned public library when they need to look something up.
Soon, though, the local economy could center around the internet: County officials have approved up to $165 billion in industrial revenue bonds to help developers build a sprawling data center campus just down the road.
“Project Jupiter” is the latest in a tidal wave of data center projects popping up across the country. Once built, the giant buildings full of computer hardware work 24/7 to power artificial intelligence and web searches for tech companies. Developers BorderPlex Digital Assets and STACK Infrastructure have been the public faces of Project Jupiter — but last week, after local officials voted to support the effort, tech giants OpenAI, Oracle, and SoftBank revealed that they’ll be the clients for the campus. In a press release, they announced that the project is part of their Stargate initiative, which includes plans to invest $500 billion in new AI infrastructure in the next few years.
The agreement approved by Doña Ana County commissioners on September 19 will allow developers to avoid paying property taxes on Project Jupiter for 30 years. In exchange, the companies are pledging $360 million in payments to the county over that period — plus more than $50 million for local infrastructure improvements. They say they’ll hire 2,500 people to build the campus, starting later this year, and then 750 for permanent roles, all prioritizing locals.
That’s a big deal for Doña Ana County. Here, where the Rio Grande peels away from the Mexican border, a quarter of the population lives below the poverty line. Sunland Park’s most prominent business is a racetrack and casino complex that looks out on a long string of strip malls leading into the desert below Mount Cristo Rey. To the west, the small town of Santa Teresa — the proposed home for Project Jupiter — has worked for decades to court development around its port of entry to rural Chihuahua.
But in a few short weeks, the deal has generated intense controversy. Like the residents of dozens of other U.S. communities facing the arrival of a data center, many in Doña Ana County are wary. A large data center could use millions of gallons of drinking water a day to keep its equipment cool, and the industry already accounts for more than 4% of total U.S. electricity consumption in a given year.
Project Jupiter’s developers have promised to build their own microgrid and said they’ll use a small fraction of that water, but residents are urging caution.

Residents of Sunland Park, New Mexico, gathered in August at the local library to discuss the effects that a proposed $165 billion data center might have on their community. Photo by Alberto Silva Fernandez/Puente News Collaborative & High Country News
In late August, about 15 people from Sunland Park and organizers from the nonprofit Empowerment Congress of Doña Ana County met at the library to discuss the proposal. “I don’t understand much of the technology,” said attendee Alma Márquez, in Spanish. “But we have a lot of basic needs here in Sunland Park.”
The city started as a group of colonias — unplanned settlements that emerged along the border in the 1980s and ’90s when developers sold off plots for low prices, often without ensuring that residents would have basic services. Decades later, people here and in Santa Teresa are still struggling to access clean water.
“This thing that’s coming consumes a lot of power, a lot of water,” Márquez said. “What’s going to happen with us, with that water we need (to be) clean?” Looking around the room, she asked, “And why here?”
Santa Teresa has long harbored dreams of becoming a hub for cross-border industry. BorderPlex Digital says its location on the edge of two states and two countries makes it a particularly attractive place to invest. “We firmly believe that the next wave of frontier tech belongs on the American frontier,” the company’s CEO said in a press release.
But the county’s colonia residents aren’t convinced. Even as their leaders give developers the green light, they’re joining a growing number of communities around the country that see data centers as a threat, not a boon.
The proposed site for Project Jupiter is a flat stretch of scrub along the highway just north of the port of entry. Its closest neighbors include a set of industrial parks built to complement the maquiladoras across the border, and a new solar plant where thousands of panels point skyward.
As data centers proliferate, many are landing in rural or exurban areas like this, where open space abounds. And local leaders are often eager to welcome them. When Gov. Michelle Luján Grisham first announced a partnership with BorderPlex Digital in February, she called it an opportunity to “position New Mexico as a leader in digital infrastructure.” In the same press release, Davin López, president of the Mesilla Valley Economic Development Alliance, wrote that Project Jupiter is “precisely the type of development we’ve been working to attract — one that leverages innovation to strengthen our position as a key player in global trade.”
In the earliest phases of the AI boom, such developments were often quietly approved, with limited public input or outcry. But that’s changing. Data Center Watch, an industry research firm, has counted $64 billion of data center projects that have been delayed or paused in just two years amid local opposition.

Construction near a housing development in Santa Teresa, New Mexico, not far from the proposed site for “Project Jupiter.” Photo by Alberto Silva Fernandez/Puente News Collaborative & High Country News
Protests started in Virginia, currently the data center capital of the world. But as the industry moves west, it’s facing increasing backlash in states from Texas to Oregon to California. In Cascade Locks, Oregon, voters recalled two local officials for supporting a $100 million data center. In Mesa, Arizona, the city government just passed new regulations restricting data center construction. The California legislature is currently considering multiple bills focused on data center energy use.
As the research group Data Center Watch notes, opposition cuts across party lines, with frustrated neighbors criticizing everything from tax breaks and rising utility costs to noise pollution and decreasing property values. In the arid Borderlands, water use tops the list of concerns. This summer, when Amazon attempted to quietly push through a massive data center near Tucson, hundreds of people showed up to city council meetings, bearing pamphlets that said, “Protect our water future.”
In Doña Ana County, the opposition has been led by colonia residents focused on an already too-dry present. In early 2024, after residents reported slimy water coming from their taps, a state investigation found dozens of violations by the Camino Real Regional Utility Authority (CRRUA) — including evidence that the utility had been bypassing arsenic treatment for over a year, selling contaminated water to more than 19,000 customers. The county has since announced plans to end its relationship with CRRUA, and the state has sued the utility over a decade of mismanagement. But residents cite continued issues with their water: yellow discoloration, sediment in the stream, and taps that barely drip despite escalating bills.

Paulina Reyna speaks at a gathering of Doña Ana County residents in Sunland Park. Photo by Alberto Silva Fernandez/Puente News Collaborative & High Country News
At the library in Sunland Park, Joe Anthony Martínez, 76, pointed to scars on his neck, where a surgeon removed skin cancer that he believes was caused by the water. Unwilling to trust the tap, he and his wife have spent years paying for filtered water. Now, as the county and city work towards establishing a new utility system, they worry that even if the water improves, it will go to the data center.
“We don’t want any of that,” Martínez said in Spanish. “What we want is quality water.”
As concerns about data centers’ resource use gain traction, the industry is working quickly to demonstrate its environmental consciousness. BorderPlex Digital says Project Jupiter will minimize water use by employing a cooling system that recycles water, rather than the more traditional system that evaporates it. A company spokesperson said in an email that their partner firm, STACK, currently operates data centers in Oregon using the same technology.
“The closed-loop cooling system requires only a one-time fill-up and will therefore limit ongoing water use to domestic needs of employees (similar to an office building with 750 employees),” he wrote.
According to documents detailing the agreement between developers and the county, “ongoing operations” for the campus will rely on treated drinking water provided by the county and CRRUA, the utility that county officials plan to replace.
In a public meeting, developers said that the initial fill would require about 10 million gallons of water, and that the system would use 7.2 million gallons annually. Daily water use for the campus will average around 20,000 gallons a day, capped at 60,000.
Daisy Maldonado, director of the civic engagement group Empowerment Congress, remains skeptical. “I want scientific reports about how a closed-loop system works and what is the level of water evaporation and recharge needed every year,” she said. “I don't want a PowerPoint presentation that just says, ‘Don’t worry, we’re not going to use that much water.’ And I think the community deserves to know.”

Empowerment Congress director Daisy Maldonado says she is concerned that the massive infrastructure complex will cause more issues with the local water supply. Photo by Alberto Silva Fernandez/Puente News Collaborative & High Country News
While the state of New Mexico announced the BorderPlex Digital partnership in February, many in Doña Ana County didn’t learn about Project Jupiter until details of the plan were unveiled in late August, just weeks before commissioners planned a final vote on the bond proposal.
At a county meeting on August 26, commissioners tried to assuage residents’ concerns. “One of the things that we insist on as part of this discussion is that … this data center is not going to have a negative impact on the water situation down in Santa Teresa and in Sunland Park,” County Commissioner Shannon Reynolds said, according to El Paso Matters. “If it does, then I promise you, we will be on top of it.”
Over the following weeks, however, local tensions around the project rose. Early last month, Reynolds posted on Facebook the names of dozens of people who submitted public comments in opposition to the project.
In a press release, the New Mexico Environmental Law Center called the post “An act of intimidation intended to deter participation and silence community members exercising their right to participate in public and government processes.” Reynolds did not respond to a request for comment, but said on Facebook that he was naming the residents to thank them publicly.
Leading up to the scheduled vote, developers launched a website outlining their pitch and hosted a series of community meetings around the county. Dozens of people showed up to ask questions — and as the public hearing neared, residents on both sides of the issue pushed for more time to get answers. On September 16, the city of Sunland Park joined calls to delay the vote, saying its leaders hadn’t had a chance to fully assess the proposal.
But developers reportedly said postponing the decision would mean losing the development altogether. On September 19, after hours of heated debate in public comment and multiple requests from one commissioner to delay, county commissioners went ahead with the vote, approving the bond proposal 4-1.
To Daisy Maldonado, the decision wasn’t a surprise — but it did feel like a betrayal. She said she had hoped the county would ask more questions about the kinds of development it seeks. Driving down McNutt Road, the main thoroughfare through Sunland Park, she pointed out more than a dozen cannabis dispensaries. A total of 43 have filled vacant storefronts and warehouses in the city since New Mexico legalized the drug in 2021, catering to customers from across the state line.
“You know how many grocery stores are in the city of Sunland Park, in Santa Teresa?” she asked. “It might be one. For a community of almost 20,000 people.”
She sighed.
“So how is New Mexico taking care of its residents? They’re failing the people in Sunland Park, in Santa Teresa, because all they can see is the dollar signs.”
The Desert's Thirsty New Neighbor was first published by palabra and republished with permission.
Annie Rosenthal is the Virginia Spencer Davis fellow at High Country News, where she covers migration, rural communities, and life in the borderlands.
Kate Schimel is the news and investigations editor at High Country News. She lives in Bozeman, Montana. @kateschimel
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