While working a shift on Tuesday night, I was approached by a group of men from Ethiopia.
They asked ,“Where are you from?”
“America, but was born in Ethiopia.” I responded.
“You’re not an American.”
“Okay.”
“Are you Ethiopian?”
“Yes, I was born there, but I am also an American.”
“You’re not a true Ethiopian, you didn’t say hello.”
“I am sorry, there are 5000 people at camp. It is very hard for me to find all the Ethiopians at camp to say hello. I am also just one person, I can’t be at ten different palaces at the same time. I am sorry to have offended you.”
“You’re ugly, boring, you’re no good, and your mother is…”
I broke down in front of an office full of people. Some of these people were people I had just met. There was nothing I could do but cry after hearing these words.
I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. I felt alone. I was told I wasn’t an American, because of the color of my skin. I was being told I wasn’t a true Ethiopian because I wasn’t living up to a standard they apparently had for me as Ethiopian.
On our first day of camp, we were told not to take things personally, because the refugees are probably mad at the situation, not us. But, I believed the words that were said to me, because I am a girl that struggles with self-confidence. For the past month I have been working and praying to see myself as God sees me and define myself based on His truth. I have a hard time looking at a picture of myself and thinking I am pretty. I was just getting to a point where I felt confident enough to smile for pictures, then I got told these words, and my mind went straight back to believing the lies I have believed about myself for so long. Maybe I am ugly, maybe I am boring, maybe I am no good. After all, what have I really done for these people since I have been here except put them in a tent, tell them “no” to things they need, because we don’t have enough of whatever it is they need to give away, make them show me a card before they can go past a gate? The next morning, my friend and squadmate, Caleb, reminded me I am not any of those things. I am a daughter of God. I am still working on building my self-confidence. I am still trying to accept myself for who I am. I am still trying to walk and believe in the truth that I am fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God.
This week has definitely been full of mixed emotions. A four year old child passed away, which completely shattered my heart even though I didn’t know the child and wasn’t on shift when it happened like some of my squadmates were. I looked a father in the eyes and told him we didn’t have shoes to give to his son that was walking barefoot.
While there are lots of sadness surrounding us at camp, there
has also been some happy moments at camp. One of the refugee families invited me and my friend Brittany for tea. They were so hospitable. They were so giving. It is funny how the people that have the least are the people that are willing to give the most. Last night when I was guarding a gate for seven hours, a couple of the ladies saw I was cold and tired, so they made me tea. Again, these people have so little, but they are probably some of the most giving people you will ever meet. I also got to hold a baby, which made my day.
When I was on guard duty last night, one refugee lady asked me if I liked working at camp? I told her, “Yes, but at the same time I also hate it because I want to find a house, a job and whatever else they need for every person that’s here, but I can’t.” She looked at me in the eyes and said, “Everything works out on God’s timing.” She told me we need to find something to be grateful about in every situation. She said that she doesn’t like being behind gates, but at the same time she is patiently waiting until God gives me the next step. I asked her where she wanted to go after she gets out of here and she said, “Wherever He leads me.” She taught me one of the most valuable life lessons: to choose to be grateful in every situation.
