Some of you may know that I have gotten involved with reaching out to the local university and am involved with a program called "Friendship Family". It is an offering to the international students, where a typical local family can be a sort of surrogate family to a young student, while they attend the University for the duration of their studies here. It has been a great experience for us. We hope that our students get as much out of it as we do. I fear they do not, as we really seem to be getting the better end of the deal. We have had students from China, Thailand, South Korea, United Kingdom, France, Czech Republic, Italy, Malaysia, and Mexico. It has been very rewarding. It is not just because college students are young and vibrant, full of hope, vibrant and attractive, (although that does not hurt.) They bring an exchange of ideas and culture to the table. Sometimes they make really good food for us too. We feel that we have some relationships that have transcended a casual friendship that will fade in time, to actually feeling like we have extended our family beyond our borders.
We also have had the privilege of getting to know other international families, some by virtue of me having and Indonesian National for a spouse, but others through the course of my life, where I had the chance to meet various residents from all over the Europe, Asia, South America etc. Even Canadians for crying out loud. For the most part, most of these interactions were casual, and never really developed into lasting friendships. (not talking about you, JØrgen)
The landscape around me is changing. What once was a town that only had either White or Hispanic people living here, has evolved into a city where over 12 languages are spoken. I found this graph for Greeley, Colorado, but it is actually unofficially estimated that there are over 30 distinct languages spoken here now.
So where am I going with all this? Surprisingly it is not about embracing diversity per se. It is not about preaching inclusion, or being a good ambassador for the sake of anything or anyone. It is not about stopping racism or evangelism or any of that. I cannot control that on a high level. I do not even really want to. I am focusing on what my heart is telling me right now.
For several years, I have wondered about the immigrants coming to the USA. I have had coworkers who were labeled as "Boat People" or Eastern Bloc escapees. It seemed easy to talk to them when there was common frames of reference, like our work environment. I often wonder about the people I see in the stores, individual who are very different than the locals. Obvious foreigners.
People who despite the wearing of western clothes, living in western homes, driving the same kinds of cars that the rest of us drive, BUT still stick out like sore thumbs. It is easy to understand the concept of sticking out. When I go to Indonesia, I am about a foot taller than everyone else, at least twice their body weight, and make enough social faux pas that I end up saying sorry, more than I would like.
Here in my homeland when crossing paths with someone that obviously is not from this continent, I have tried to be cordial and offer a smile, only to be glared at, or ignored. Initially it seemed best to just overlook it. Over and over again, then one day, I got a little indignant. While driving by a group of Somali kids who were playing in the street, I slowed down so as not to hit anyone with the car, and then smiled and waved. They all glared at me like I was the white devil. I stopped and rolled down the window and asked what was the reason for the looks, when my intention was to be sure they did not get run over. The oldest kid, maybe 15 looked at me with confusion and it was soon very clear that the looks were more of fear and apprehension. Their countenances changed when they realized that this big fat white guy was not angry with them, did not hate them and was doing something they had not seen here before which was treating them with some common courtesy. It was heart breaking to me. These kids have been treated like untouchables the entire time they have lived here. They are not accepted by the general population because they are "those damned job taking refugees, who are unfriendly, and want their religion to take over the world." As I drove off, a few of the kids even waved back.
So back to present day, and an experience I had this weekend. The family and I went to an International Cultural event, to see some of our students perform. While there I was looking at some of the vendor booths and there was one with a guy giving information about the Immigration and Refugee center, so I stopped to ask a couple of questions.The guy talked for about 20 minutes of the problems that many refugee immigrants have with trust and fear of violence, etc. He also mentioned how many people go to work, and and then go straight back home, only to repeat the routine daily, and he wondered out loud why anyone would really want to come here and face the lonely lifestyle. So at the end of the conversation, I asked if we could get coffee sometime, and gave him my email.
I got a message that night asking if we could get together for a cup of coffee the next day. We met. We talked for nearly 4 hours. We covered subjects that spanned perception of life, politics, religion, tragedy, fear and the human condition. But what really stood was the fact that he was lonely. He said so many refugees are afraid of what will happen to them here. it dawned on me that the sullen looks I had been seeing all this time were perceived with the mind of someone who had not been oppressed. I have no experience where my uncle may have gotten gunned down in the street by some dictators henchmen. Nor would I understand being so desperate that I had to leave my family behind, leave all I know and understand, just to find a place to maybe live in peace, perhaps even just TO LIVE at all.
So why am I telling this to you all? Maybe it is just a plea to think a little differently about those who live amongst us, who we think are so different than us. With very few exceptions, every last one of us are descendants if immigrants. My family emigrated from Belgium, Italy, Ireland and most recently, Indonesia. Hopefully we can all think beyond our comfort zones and reach out a little more. It is uncomfortable for sure. We risk rejection. but please, if this means anything at all to you, try. Try again. Keep trying until you succeed. Even if you never have talked to anyone different, you can. Think a little how a new kid feels in school. They are scared, and shy. Make friends with the new family in the neighborhood. Make them welcome. Sometimes it is a real leap of faith to be that bold. Sometimes it is just as simple as saying hi and introducing yourself and talking about nothing in particular at all. It may not seem like much, but it might make all the difference to a hurting heart.
Better yet, you might make a difference in your own heart.
