Thank you, Debra, for the prompt to reflect on what we are building. This question is especially important, in our time where the social fabric is unraveling, and the tapestry that binds us to one another, has more dangling threads by the day. This is especially true for our neighbors who live on the margins.
I live in Maine, America's "whitest state" but one with a large percentage of refugees and asylum seekers.
In my job as a community bus driver, I encounter people who have moved here from Central America, the Middle East and Eastern Europe. Most have come fleeing violence and hoping for welcome. Too often they encounter the opposite, sometimes the comments are subtle, sometimes overt.
I have tried to learn a few words of grace, in the languages of my various passengers. I start with hello, good-bye, thank you and you're welcome.
Yesterday, I picked up a middle-aged Muslim woman and her two teenage daughters. As they boarded my van, I introduced myself and commented on the rainy weather. The mother gave me what seemed like a stern look and said, "No English, Arabic." I nodded and we sat in silence for the 30 minute drive.
As we arrived the girls got out from the back seat, and said "thank you" in English. I responded, with "afwan" -- you're welcome Arabic. They smiled and said, "shukran" - thank you in their native tongue. I then said, "masalam", an Arabic parting meaning "go in peace".
The mother who was walking ahead of us, turned quickly, and with a big smile on her face, said, "Arabic! Shukram, thank you."
It was a simple exchange but one that I think built something. It was a small something, but a foundation upon which more can be built during future trips. In a world where my new friends are often told they need to speak English and become like us, my little effort to meet them in their language and express curiosity about their lives, created a different possibility than the one filling our newspapers and phone screens.
Thank you, Debra, for the prompt to reflect on what we are building. This question is especially important, in our time where the social fabric is unraveling, and the tapestry that binds us to one another, has more dangling threads by the day. This is especially true for our neighbors who live on the margins.
I live in Maine, America's "whitest state" but one with a large percentage of refugees and asylum seekers.
In my job as a community bus driver, I encounter people who have moved here from Central America, the Middle East and Eastern Europe. Most have come fleeing violence and hoping for welcome. Too often they encounter the opposite, sometimes the comments are subtle, sometimes overt.
I have tried to learn a few words of grace, in the languages of my various passengers. I start with hello, good-bye, thank you and you're welcome.
Yesterday, I picked up a middle-aged Muslim woman and her two teenage daughters. As they boarded my van, I introduced myself and commented on the rainy weather. The mother gave me what seemed like a stern look and said, "No English, Arabic." I nodded and we sat in silence for the 30 minute drive.
As we arrived the girls got out from the back seat, and said "thank you" in English. I responded, with "afwan" -- you're welcome Arabic. They smiled and said, "shukran" - thank you in their native tongue. I then said, "masalam", an Arabic parting meaning "go in peace".
The mother who was walking ahead of us, turned quickly, and with a big smile on her face, said, "Arabic! Shukram, thank you."
It was a simple exchange but one that I think built something. It was a small something, but a foundation upon which more can be built during future trips. In a world where my new friends are often told they need to speak English and become like us, my little effort to meet them in their language and express curiosity about their lives, created a different possibility than the one filling our newspapers and phone screens.
Masalam,
Scott Klinger
Gardiner, Maine
Thank you, Scott. Small kindnesses are enormously important, as we all know when we experience them. Thanks for being a person of refugia!