Editorials

The Kinship Corridor

By Ruben Q. Leyva

The cornfield armistice at Cañada Alamosa was a fragile peace, measured in rows of maize and bolts of cloth. It was there, in 1867, that Apache Frank first appeared clearly in the historical record as an interpreter—a young man trusted to carry words between his people and the United States. Standing beside Loco, he was not a captive but a negotiator, working in the narrow space between subsistence and survival. The cornfield showed Frank as a figure who could move between worlds, his presence marking a moment when dialogue, however fleeting, was possible.

By Ruben Q. Leyva

In the Cornfield
In October of 1867, outside Cañada Alamosa (Monticello), New Mexico, Apache Frank Leyva stood among the rows of corn and men, dust on his moccasins, reading faces the way his Navajo stepfather taught him to read tracks. To the town, he was Mexican; to some officials, he had been referred to as Navajo; to his mother's family, he was of the Red Paint People [Chihene band]. He was not a captive, but the interpreter for Chief Loco. Lieutenant Colonel Cuvier Grover, commander at Fort Craig, had confirmed Loco's leadership of the group upon the passing of his relative, the great leader Mangas Coloradas, four years before. However, on this day, Frank carried all of his ancestors with him. Names could wait. The work in front of him was simple: end the shouting before someone's son died for a sack of grain.

Yes, I'm old and I have old eyes, but why are too many obviously young folks with good eyes, deciding that public documents should be in gray, instead of dark black?

I'm sure they think it's pretty, and maybe it is to them, but not to oldsters who might like to read the documents, too!

And not only that, but some seem to like all capital letters, which I had already found hard to read all my life. It's much easier to read (for me, anyway) letters that vary in size.

By Paul Gessing

Under the plan imposed by Gov. Lujan Grisham and her handpicked Environmental Improvement Board, 43% of all vehicles sold in New Mexico were supposed to be electric by 2026. Fortunately for New Mexico car buyers, back in May the US Congress (including New Mexico Democrat Rep. Gabe Vasquez) voted to eliminate California's exemption from federal clean air rules (and thus the ability of other states) to force unwilling buyers  to purchase electric vehicles.

A new report from the pro-EV trade group Alliance for Automotive Innovation indicates that as of the first quarter of 2025, adoption of EVs had begun to decline even before Congress acted. Perhaps the mere election of Donald Trump shifted consumer behavior back toward gas-powered vehicles, but the reason for this decline is unclear.

By Chief Justice David K. Thomson

I am pleased to announce the New Mexico Supreme Court's fifth annual "Rule of Law" program. The goal of the program is to educate middle school, high school, and college students on the judiciary's role in our democracy and how the rule of law secures a just and civil society. This year we will hold oral argument at the Henderson Fine Arts Center at San Juan College in Farmington on August 28, at 1:00 p.m.

Normally, I write an op-ed in advance of the program to discuss the importance of understanding how our judicial system advances the rule of law and how the rule of law then advances a civil and engaged democracy.

By Ruben Q. Leyva

They called him Mexican. Then they called him Navajo. But we call him kin.

This is Part II of a continuing exploration. If you haven’t read Part I, "Who Was Apache Frank?"—the story of a man misnamed, misread, and misremembered in the military and missionary archives—you’ll find that it lays the groundwork for this piece. Part II carries the story further, deeper into the protocol of relation, kinship, and endurance. We pick up the thread not to tie it off, but to follow where it leads.

Let’s begin with two boys: Francisco and Merejildo Grijalva. In 1849, during a raid near Banamichi, Sonora, both were taken—alongside three Grijalva women and two Opata Indian boys. That moment, violent and unresolved, didn’t just fracture a family. It opened a split in how history would remember them.

Published with permission from New Mexico Business Coalition.

Also on https://newmexicosun.com/stories/674094564-opinion-is-albuquerque-being-trumped-or-seeing-the-results-of-what-keller-created 

On July 24, 2025, President Trump signed Executive Order (EO) 14321 titled, "Ending Crime and Disorder on America's Streets." Press statements from the White House say the EO aims to address endemic vagrancy, disorderly behavior, sudden confrontations, and violent attacks that have made U.S. cities unsafe. 

 At the Crossroads of Captivity, Kinship, and Survival

By Ruben Q. Leyva

This story begins with a single line in a military report, one that forces us to look deeper at the overlapping names, identities, and classifications of the Apache people. My approach centers on kinship and oral history alongside church and military records because these perspectives, often dismissed in historical narratives, are the strongest threads connecting past and present.

In July 1864, amid the final years of the American Civil War, Lieutenant Colonel Julius C. Shaw of the First New Mexico Cavalry led an expedition from Fort Wingate to the Gila and San Carlos Rivers. In his report—published in the War of the Rebellion official records—Shaw describes a field consultation with two Apaches in the upper reaches of the San Carlos River: Soldado, a chief, and a man he refers to as “Mexican Francisco,” who served as an interpreter. Francisco and Soldado, meaning “soldier” in Spanish, were returning from Zuni, where they were trading.