CHAD KENNEDY WAS deer hunting near Watkinsville, Ga., one January evening when he saw police lights in the distance. He climbed down from the tree and walked toward the lights. He scared away the deer he’d been tracking, but he was afraid there had been a wreck because of all the stopped cars. Then he saw about a dozen Buddhist monks in orange and yellow robes walking swiftly along the road. Kennedy had seen these monks on TikTok, but he didn’t know they’d be coming his way. His rifle was still slung over his shoulder, so he hurried to put his gun in his truck before joining the throng of people lined up to greet them.
This group of Buddhist monks and their dog Aloka embarked on their Walk for Peace on Oct. 26, 2025, from Huong Dao Vipassana Bhavana Center in Fort Worth, Texas, and ended their roughly 2,300-mile journey in Washington, D.C., in mid-February. Along the way, they gave talks about mindfulness, peace, and loving kindness, received flowers, meals, and donations, gave peace bracelets to people, and slept under the stars.
These monks spread glimmers of hope to our fragile and broken humanity.
In Great Falls, S.C., Mayor Keevi Worthy, like mayors in many of the towns they visited, read a proclamation welcoming the venerable Buddhist monks. Except it sounded like she said “vulnerable” monks. There was poetry in her pronunciation: They were vulnerable. Tragedy had struck in Dayton, Texas, when a vehicle hit their pilot car, causing it to crash into some of the walkers. Bhante Dam Phommasan had to have a leg amputated. Their car, carrying supplies and donations, was totaled. But soon after, a local business owner gave them a new vehicle to continue their journey. The Walk for Peace started official social media accounts, and as of this writing, they have almost 3 million followers on Facebook, nearly 2 million on Instagram, and more than 1.3 million on TikTok. Local police began offering them protection, and they amassed a large collection of badges from sheriffs.
“This walk is more than a journey,” wrote Neeraj Bajracharya, a representative of the monks, in a letter sent to towns along their route. “It is a heartfelt offering to the nation and an open invitation to people of all faiths, cultures, and backgrounds to come together in a shared aspiration: to live with greater compassion, mutual respect, and understanding.”
As they ambulated through the South, treading paths of old Civil War and Civil Rights battles, these monks spread glimmers of hope to our fragile and broken humanity. People traveled miles and waited hours to see them, while others, like Kennedy, welcomed them with surprised joy.
Kennedy, who hunts for food and “keeps his freezers full,” didn’t get a deer that night, but he’s OK with that. “Ain’t nothing wrong with spreading love, you know.”
Josina Guess is a Sojourners associate editor and a contributor to Bigger Than Bravery: Black Resilience and Reclamation in a Time of Pandemic.
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