What’s so funny about peace, love and understanding?
With threats of violence made upon state capitals nationwide ahead of President Joe Biden’s inauguration last Wednesday, we at Journal North were tasked with “staking out” the Roundhouse last weekend to make sure there wasn’t any trouble.
And, if there was trouble, we were to spring into action and do that journalism thing we journalists love to do.
But, frankly, I didn’t feel like doing any journalism last weekend. Because if I did, it meant that something bad happened. And the threat was real; it just might.
I’d seen the images from the insurrection at the U.S. Capitol 10 days earlier, including attacks on journalists, and I wasn’t up for that kind of excitement. I would have been perfectly happy to spend my time on “Roundhouse Riot Watch” kickin’ back in my car, listening to tunes, sipping coffee and keeping warm.
I had the early shift Saturday morning and it was quiet around the Roundhouse when I arrived shortly after 9 a.m. The Capitol was completely enclosed by a 6-foot chain-link fence erected a few days earlier, there were police vehicles with emergency lights flashing at every intersection and several streets were blocked off. But, other than that, it was a cold, blustery winter morning in the City Different no different from any other.
There was a little activity. Workers were putting up a second layer of fencing on the east side of the Roundhouse. But there were no signs of trouble. So, I found a place to park my car without appearing too conspicuous, kicked back and turned on the tunes.
After a while, I did notice a curious sight. It was a woman carrying a sign I was too far away to read, walking a dog along Old Santa Fe Trail in front of the Capitol. What made it unusual was that the dog was wearing some kind of glittery red vest and there were balloons protruding from it. I watched them cross Paseo de Peralta and head west out of my view.
A while later, they appeared again coming back the other way. It became apparent that this woman and her dog were demonstrating, and that I might need to do some journalism.
So, I left the warmth of my car to venture out into the cold and wind to find out what the story was with this woman and her dog.
The dog’s name is Mija, which means “my daughter” in Spanish, I was reminded.
She’s an Australian Shepherd about 1½ years old. And she’s a sweetheart.
Speaking of which, Mija was wearing an outfit seemingly fashioned from a pair of sparkling red Valentine hearts with “Love” written in white letters.
Alas, the balloons once tethered to Mija’s vest had been lost to the wind.
The young woman’s name was Jaquelyn Martinez. She’s from Santa Fe and she’s 20 years old.
Dressing up her dog like she did, she obviously wanted to get attention. She had something to say and she summed it up in four phrases:
“Spread love not hate!” “America needs unity” “Love thy neibor” (presumably use of the obsolete form of the word to save space) “We are in this together” That’s the message Jaquelyn wanted to communicate — if not to violent protesters that might show up, then to random passersby along Paseo de Peralta.
But there was more to the story.
I asked Jaquelyn what compelled her to come out, and walk up and down the street on a cold windy day.
“My grandmother works at the Legislature,” she told me. “I don’t want what happened in Washington to happen here.”
Jaquelyn said she had been there since 9 a.m., and planned to keep marching back and forth until it was time for her Nana to come home.
I went to work that morning feeling a bit apprehensive about what might happen that day. But, when my shift was over, I went home that day feeling a bit more hopeful for the future.