Alberto is an older Hispanic gentleman I met a few months ago at our church. Gray-haired and slightly stooped, Alberto switches from large-rimmed reading glasses to giant-framed blackout sunglasses, depending on where he is in the sun or in the building. He is clearly not wealthy, but when he talks, you can hear he has a grateful heart. He laughs at subtle jokes and he speaks with dignity and awareness. Despite his simple appearance, he is warm and engaging. And he talks easily to folks. He gives off warmth.

At one time an Albuqeurquean, Alberto has lived in Los Angeles and the Bay Area and, most recently, Nashville. He has spent much of his career as a teacher- of Chicano literature, of regular literature, of music, of living. His students have been junior-high and high schoolers. He is not smug or jaded or condescending. He has been a teacher, but presently he is just looking for work, any work- as a dishwasher or janitor or floor sweeper. He is too old, he says. He is too tired to deal with teaching kids. He would do menial work, but people don’t want to hire an old man.

He decided to move back to New Mexico about 6 months ago because he thought it might be a good place to settle down. The father and caretaker of a 35-year old son who is an amputee and who lives with him, Alberto one time heard about Sagebrush Highland and came and gave us a visit. He told me that after attending one of our services, our church felt a lot like his church from back in Nashville. After getting a few phone calls and a road trip to a thrift store between us, Alberto decided to come visit our small group this week. Once he arrived, he hung out near the door to the kitchen of our host home for a while before we ate dinner, just watching the group. Once we said grace, he meekly joined us at the table when we ate. He sat quiet and slumped in a chair during our study, appearing on the verge of dosing off, but he didn’t. He threw in his ideas when invited to share.

When asked a question about Albuquerque, he spoke of it as a city he once knew that he did not know any more. He discovered he lived in the war zone, which he knew nothing about from when he lived here in Albuquerque before. He talks about how great Sagebrush Highland had been to him, about how everyone there has accepted him and made him feel welcome. But Albuquerque. Albuquerque, he says, is different.

He looks for words and then compares his view of the city to the primary color in a painting’s palette.

The tone of Albuquerque is harsh. “Between the unbearable heat that rains down on this place and the great distances you have to travel to get anywhere and the poverty that fills this state, Albuquerque has become hard and unforgiving.”

He blames it on the lack of fathers in homes. “There is a fatherless epidemic here. No one teaches their kids how to be civil and respectful anymore. Most homes don’t have fathers any more.”

Alberto, after being here for 6 months and not being able to find work, is considering going back to Nashville. “My pastor says ‘Come on back- there is always a place here for you.'”

It’s been a challenging move for Alberto back to Albuquerque.