Think of what ethnicity you are. Think of the others around you that are that ethnicity too. Now, imagine your government going through and killing every single one of those people, just because of where you come from. You and your family are being uprooted over something you have no control over. Your life is being taken from you because of family you were born into. Early one morning the government comes and predicts your death. The rest of the day you’re trying to protect your family and your main goal is to not get killed. You flee, with the clothes on your back and hopefully your family member’s hand in your hand. You go anywhere you can, but you now have refugee status. Your ID, if you have one, will inform everyone of where you came from and point out the fact that you are a refugee. You can lean on friends and family, but not on your government because they’re the ones promoting this thing everyone calls ethnic cleansing.
This is the scenario I heard over and over again last month. This is the scenario that broke my heart time after time. This is the scenario I don’t think would ever happen in the United States, and that’s why it’s so incredibly hard for us to imagine.
I started out helping in Project B, which was a cafe and coffee shop. I worked with the students who were mostly refugees. Most of their stories went something like the first paragraph, but they lived it instead of trying to imagine it. The students were around 15 years old, and told their story with hope overflowing. They are thankful for receiving an education, thankful that they have someone on their side fighting for them, and thankful that at Dignity they are accepted as they are.
Their stories softened my heart and completely opened my eyes, but the main thing that troubled me was how afraid they were to maybe get relocated to the US. Yes, you read that right. Most of them are Muslim, the countries they came from were Muslim countries, and they were basically born into that religion. Being a Muslim and a refugee in the United States sometime seemed like their biggest fear. I was defensive until I took the time and understood where they were coming from. Our country hasn’t been inviting towards Muslims, or refugees. If you are a person and you are both of those things you wouldn’t want anything to do with a country who is against those either. It broke my heart to hear. But it broke my heart more when I realized that I have held what a fraction of Muslims have done towards all of them. They’re not all bad. The students I worked with want to be doctors and lawyers, singers and teachers. They are Muslim, but they’re no different than you and I. Some people in their religion have done horribly wrong things, but every single religion has those people.
Christine Caine was speaking when I went to Willow Creek last year and she has had a major impact in this industry. She points out that drug traffickers, human traffickers, and sex traffickers and there, but most Christians are not. At the biggest time in these peoples life, the time where they are most vulnerable and in need where are the Christians? If the Christians were there saying, “Here, I have a place for you to stay, I have water for you to drink and a meal waiting for you,” how much of an impact would that make? The refugees would be saying, “The time I was in the most need, the Christians were there. The Christians gave me food. The Christians gave me water and a place to lay my head.” Talk about a huge impact.
Yes, it’s intimidating being surrounded by people that are different than you, my whole month was like that. It was completely outside my comfort zone to be outnumbered by Muslims, Indians, Refugees, and Hindus, but we’re still all people and have so much in common.
In America it’s really hard to be effected by the refugee crisis. Until coming to Malaysia I didn’t know there were refugees other than the ones fleeing from ISIS. The people I met were from Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Myanmar, and Bangladesh. I had no idea. You can read the stories and hear the statistics, but I realized you can look without actually seeing. Last month I put on new glasses and gave my fears to God so I could love these refugees that were searching for the same thing I was, to be loved.
