As a person of faith and an immigrant from Central America, migration is not an abstract policy debate for me—it is the story of my life. I know what it means to be forced from home, to carry both fear and hope across borders, and to walk into the unknown with nothing but faith to guide me. For years, I have worked alongside my immigrant community—fighting for freedom of movement, defending the dignity of every human being, and doing everything in my power to prevent loss of life in the desert. This work is more than an advocacy effort; it is a sacred duty, a moral obligation. 

This year, I joined justice advocates to walk the Migrant Trail, an advocacy event established In May 2004. The 75-mile, 7-day walk traces a common path for people in migration from the U.S.-Mexico border north to Tucson, Arizona. Participants bear witness to migrant deaths in the U.S.-Mexico borderlands and raise awareness of inhumane border policies. UUSC partner Borderlinks was one of the Migrant Trail’s original supporters. Now, it is co-led by interfaith organizations including UUSC’s new partner School of the Americas Watch  

Justice advocates walking the Migrant Trail

On the Migrant Trail, every step was an offering—to my own journey, to my family’s sacrifices, and to the countless lives lost in pursuit of safety and opportunity. The walk tested our bodies and our spirits. We marched beneath Arizona’s relentless sun, slept under the open sky, washed sparingly, and depended on the kindness of strangers for food. 

And yet, it was a pilgrimage of the soul. Every step became a prayer. I reflected on my own immigrant story and the blessings I have received: a community of faith that sheltered me, leaders who opened doors for me, and opportunities to grow into my calling as a community organizer. I was humbled to walk alongside loved ones, UUSC staff, priests, veterans, activists, teachers, interfaith leaders, humanitarian workers, children, and elders—all bound together by an unshakable commitment to justice. 

In this moment of fear, division, and militarization of our communities—when immigrants are detained, disappeared, and dehumanized—the Migrant Trail reminded me of something powerful: there is still an unbreakable movement of love in this country. People are working every day to create a world where migration is a choice, not a desperate necessity; where no one is driven to risk their life in a desert or at the hands of border patrol; where safety, dignity, and opportunity are the birthright of all. Those who walk this trail know the truth: it does not have to be this way. The suffering of migrants is not inevitable—it is a human-made injustice that can be undone. A migrant is a human being, sacred and irreplaceable, no matter why they leave home, where they come from, or how they arrive. 

Justice advocates walking the Migrant Trail

While fear-driven narratives dominate the headlines, painting migrants as threats without evidence, we must remember what migration really reveals: the strength of the human spirit, the power of solidarity, and the truth that our destinies are bound together. The U.S.-Mexico border is not merely a line on a map—it is the world’s deadliest migration land route, a place where policy decisions mean life or death. And yet, it is also a place where solidarity blooms in the harshest terrain. 

At the Unitarian Universalist Service Committee (UUSC), we stand firmly on the side of love. Guided by our Unitarian Universalist belief in the inherent worth and dignity of every person, we partner with grassroots movements at the border, like the School of the Americas Watch that offer humanitarian aid, document abuses, mobilize communities, and demand humane policies in the USA and in the countries of origins. We walk with them in solidarity, philanthropy, and advocacy, knowing that justice is not a gift—it must be demanded, and it is a shared responsibility. Migration should not be criminalized.  Seeking safety is not a threat. Migrant rights are human rights. And until every person can live and thrive in safety—across any border—our walk is not over.