My gratitude to Willing Davidson, who edited the story that this book grew out of for the pages of The New Yorker.
Thank you to the individuals who spoke with me about their work: Marie Leyba at Espa?ola Valley High School; Eric Gallant at the City of Espa?ola Police Department; Judy Goldbogen at the office of the Chief Clerk of the New Mexico House of Representatives. Many thanks to Eric Schindler, Lydia Medina, and Joy Leveen at Child and Family Resources for allowing me to visit the classroom at the Maricopa Center for Adolescent Parents. Thank you to my former colleagues at United Way of Tucson and Southern Arizona for their commitment to quality early childhood education, and especially to LaVonne Douville, whose work and mentorship continue to inspire me.
For their medical expertise and friendship, my thanks to Megan Mickley and Margaret Allen.
Tíve’s hermandad is a fictional hermandad in a fictional town. There exists, as far as I know, no morada that was once a filling station. Nonetheless, my fictional version is informed by the work of several scholars of the history of penitentes in northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. I’m particularly grateful to the following books: Marta Weigle’s Brothers of Light, Brothers of Blood: The Penitentes of the Southwest and The Penitentes of the Southwest; Alabados of New Mexico, edited by Thomas J. Steele, S.J.; Ray John de Aragón’s Hermanos de la Luz, Brothers of the Light; and Alice Corbin Henderson’s Brothers of Light: The Penitentes of the Southwest. The text of Amadeo’s entrada is from a translation by Bill Tate, included in Penitente Self-Government: Brotherhoods and Councils, 1797–1947, by Thomas J. Steele, S.J., and Rowena A. Rivera.
Angela Garcia’s The Pastoral Clinic: Addiction and Dispossession along the Rio Grande is a beautifully observed study of the painful effects of the region’s history of violence and dispossession.
For the time and space to work, I am beyond grateful to the following institutions and their staff who welcomed me so warmly: Yaddo, Willapa Bay AiR, the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, Hedgebrook, Civitella Ranieri, the American Academy in Rome, the James Merrill House, and the Sitka Center for Art and Ecology. I am especially grateful to MacDowell, where I started this novel, and the Hermitage Artist Retreat, where I finished it. For opening their homes to me to write, I am grateful to Diana Lett and Susan Rosenberg （and George the tortoise）。 Thanks also to the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference and the gems at Grace Paley Palooza.
For the support and faith, thank you to the Rona Jaffe Foundation and the Elizabeth George Foundation.
To my students and colleagues at Princeton University, the University of Michigan, Stanford University, and Warren Wilson: how very lucky I am to work among you.
For guidance over the years, many thanks to Deb Allbery, Michael Byers, Peter Ho Davies, Jane Hamilton, A. M. Homes, Jhumpa Lahiri, Yiyun Li, Maureen N. McLane, Jim Richardson, Tracy K. Smith, Elizabeth Tallent, Susan Wheeler, and Tobias Wolff. I am forever indebted to three dear mentors who have recently passed away: Eavan Boland, Ehud Havaze-let, and John L’Heureux.
Thank you to my beloved readers, who made this book infinitely better. Jennifer duBois, Lara Vapynar, and Sarah Frisch were beyond generous with their critiques. My mother, Barbra Quade, accompanied me on a research trip and gave invaluable feedback on the manuscript. Mary South read this twice and plucked me from despair in those dark, early days of the pandemic. I am eternally grateful to Brittany Perham for the You-Are-Not-Alone chant. And thank you especially to Lydia Conklin, whom I’ve been so lucky to get to write alongside, who reads every word I write, and whose work I am so fortunate to read. I’m grateful for the years.
To the teachers, social workers, activists, nonprofit workers, and community organizers who devote their lives to improving outcomes for vulnerable children, youth, and families: thank you. To those children and youth who fight so hard for their futures and ours: you give me hope.