GUEST EDITORIAL
By Mike Burnett
Executive Director of Concho Valley Community Action Agency

There is no way around it: the pause of the Rock Rose campus project is disappointing.
We were close to achieving the vision of a service campus that would meet the needs of our neighbors. Very close.
Many people poured countless hours into this effort. Community members showed up. Partners stepped forward. Advocates spoke out. People who have experienced homelessness and housing instability shared their stories with courage and honesty. When you invest that much hope and hard work into something, a pause is disappointing.
It is okay to acknowledge that disappointment, but disappointment cannot become division.
To that end, I want to be clear: the people opposed to Rock Rose, who raised concerns, are not the enemy. Neighbors who disagree with us are not the enemy.
- The enemy is poverty
- The enemy is a system that keeps people trapped in poverty generation after generation
- The enemy is a reality that allows homelessness to exist in the richest country in the history of the world
- The enemy is the belief that someone’s suffering is someone else’s responsibility
- That is the challenge we must meet.
Too often these conversations become “us versus them.” When that happens, we lose sight of the people at the center of the issue. We stop talking about human beings and start talking about sides.
People in crisis are not an abstract problem, and they are here.
They are in every corner of our communities, sleeping in cars, staying on couches, living one unexpected bill away from losing everything. They are veterans, workers, parents, young adults, seniors, and families. Many are already our neighbors, whether we see them or not.
That reality exists whether Rock Rose moves forward or not.
The phrase “Not In My Back Yard” or NIMBY has become common in these discussions. But poverty does not recognize property lines. Homelessness does not stop at the edge of a neighborhood. Human need does not disappear because we choose not to look at it.

The question before us is not whether these challenges exist. The question is whether we are willing to address them.
My faith certainly informs how I see the world, but I know many people who do not consider themselves religious and still believe deeply in grace, mercy, and second chances. Those values belong to all of us. They remind us that none of us is defined by our worst moment and that every person has worth and dignity.
However we arrive at it, helping people touches something deep within us. Some may call it a calling. Others may call it compassion, duty, or simply being a good person. Whatever name we give it, the impulse to help those who are struggling is one of the best parts of who we are.
Across faith traditions, and even beyond them, there is a common belief that we have a responsibility to care for one another. The call to feed the hungry, shelter the vulnerable, welcome the stranger, and lift up those in need appears again and again. It may be expressed differently, but the message is remarkably consistent.
That is why I am reminded of the words from For Everyone Born:
“For everyone born, a place at the table.
For everyone born, clean water and bread.
A shelter, a space, a safe place for growing.
For everyone born, a star overhead.”
Those words capture something profound. Human dignity is not something to be earned. It is something to be recognized in every person.
We should also recognize that this work does not belong to any one organization.

At CVCAA, we are part of a larger network of agencies, nonprofits, faith communities, healthcare providers, educators, businesses, and public servants working every day to help people move from crisis toward stability.
Many of these partners are carrying heavy loads right now. They see the same growing needs we see. They are balancing limited resources against unlimited need while serving people, some of whom are facing some of the hardest moments of their lives.
As housing becomes more difficult to find, costs continue to rise, and demand for services grows, the pressure on these organizations only increases.
Yet they keep showing up. They answer the phone. They open their doors. They do the work.
They deserve our gratitude and support for their work to mitigate the ever-expanding need of our community.
That is why collaboration matters so much. No single person or agency has all the answers. No one program, city, church, nonprofit, or government office can meet every need.
Real progress happens when people sit at the same table, share responsibility, and work toward a common goal. If we are going to help our neighbors find stability, housing, opportunity, and hope, it will take all of us pulling in the same direction.
I am also grateful for elected officials, city leaders, and community members who continue to engage in these conversations, even when they are difficult.
Public service is not easy. Community leadership is not easy. It takes courage to step into complex issues where there are strong opinions on every side. We may not always agree on the path forward, but I believe we can extend one another the same grace we hope to receive ourselves.
Regardless of where we come from, what unites us is the belief that every person deserves a place at the table. Every person deserves safety. Every person deserves the opportunity to build a better future.
When we focus on that shared belief, something changes. We stop asking whose responsibility it is and start asking how we can help. We stop seeing strangers and start seeing each other. We remember that the measure of a community is not how well it serves those who are thriving, but how faithfully it responds to those who are struggling.
On July 4, 2025, our community demonstrated just that when our region was ravaged by flood. We saw people helping each other without asking who they voted for, where they lived, or what they believed. We saw generosity. We saw service. We saw neighbors showing up for neighbors. We saw the very best of what community can be.
That spirit is still here. We need it now more than ever.
We need people willing to listen before they speak. We need people willing to find common ground instead of scoring likes on social media. We need business leaders, faith communities, local government, service providers, residents, and advocates at the same table. Most of all, we need the courage to believe that solutions are possible even when the path forward becomes more difficult.
A pause is not a defeat, nor is it the end of the story.

If you know me, you know I love baseball. And anyone who has ever watched a baseball season knows that one tough inning does not determine the outcome of the game. You regroup. You adjust. You lean on your teammates. You keep playing.
Frankly, that’s one of the reasons I’ve stuck with Cleveland baseball all these years. Whether they were called the Indians or the Guardians, they’ve spent decades proving that setbacks don’t have to define you. The Guardians rarely have the biggest budget or the most talent on paper, but they keep finding ways to compete through grit, teamwork, and determination. What matters is how you respond when things don’t go your way. There is a lesson in that for all of us.
That is exactly what we intend to do.
At CVCAA, we remain committed to helping people move from crisis to stability and from stability to opportunity. Our mission has not changed. Our resolve has not weakened. If anything, this moment reminds us why the work matters so much.
We will continue looking for solutions. We will continue building partnerships. We will continue advocating for people whose voices are too often ignored. And we will continue inviting everyone, including those who disagree with us, into the conversation.
Because lasting solutions are built with community.
The solution has never been one organization acting alone. The solution has always been a community deciding that everyone’s success matters.
I remain optimistic. I believe in this community. I believe we can find a path forward. And I want the people we serve, and the people who care deeply about this issue, to know this:
CVCAA is still in it.
I am still in it.
Not for a project. Not for an organization. Not for a political position.
For people. For our neighbors.
For a community where everyone has a place at the table and a fair chance to thrive.


