I headed to Paris last spring, having an idea in my head of what I would see. Having been the second time I had visited the magical city, I pictured the Louvre again, the small cafes lining the streets, the smell of crepes and fresh bread in the morning, and the quaint shops that outline the stone-cobbled streets.
It was safe to say I didn't picture the crowds of people crammed underneath the bridges, as the roar of trains passed over. They lined up along the sides, selling mismatched shoes, broken watches, random household items, and questionably obtained electronics. I was advised to put my camera away in the safety of a bag, and the statement, while wise, almost offended me for them. But then again, desperate people do desperate things.... and I can only imagine how desperate you'd have to be to flee your home, not knowing what will await you.
I had a mixture of emotions upon learning of the executive order signed by President Trump, placing a temporary ban on people from certain countries entering the country, including refugees. As a journalist though, despite what most people believe of our profession, I tried to see things from both sides of the argument.
On one hand, I acknowledge that the ban is built upon sometimes validated fear. Whether we care to admit it or not, 9/11 changed us as a nation, and released a domino effect that no one could foresee. Though I can barely remember that tragic September morning, the aftermath is still seen today. Many who want the ban, affecting mainly Muslims, to remain in effect have the fear that they so evidently remember from that day. Part of me cannot blame them, not being able to imagine the fear everyone felt. As a five year old, I didn't worry... that was my parents job. And while America built itself back up from the rubble, the scar remains as a sometimes terrifying reminder.
Fear is a powerful motivator, and not always a good one. It's when people overcome their fear that they often do something incredible. The person who fears heights finally goes skydiving; the person who fears the ocean finally steps in and realizes how beautiful it is. There are so many examples of people overcoming their fear... and that's exactly what the people living in fear of a certain people group are not doing.
On the other side of the argument, living in fear is not living. I understand President Trump's desire for security, but I cannot imagine an America that doesn't admit immigrants and refugees. We've always been the nation that represents a fresh start, hope, freedom. If you've ever watched the movie Brooklyn, it's a great visual of the journey to America, passing Ellis Island, as Lady Liberty welcomes you. While it's being labeled as a "temporary ban," there is the legitimate concern that it won't be so temporary.
Some could argue I'm emotionally attached and that clouds my judgement. But I've gotten to see, firsthand, the struggle many refugees face when trying to incorporate themselves into a new country, new language, new culture... It's hard. It can strain your faith in people. It can strain your faith that nations would put aside their differences for humanitarian purposes. I met people who had lost hope. I continue to hear from people that they are losing faith. That, to me, is unacceptable and heartbreaking.
I don't have a solution to the problems. I'm not a politician and I don't hear the intelligence briefings so I can't pretend to know every factor into the equation. I do know that love is always a good solution though. Yes, it has risks, and yes, we're not a nation that's overly fond of risk nowadays. I can only ask that maybe, as difficult as it would be, to try to place yourselves in their shoes. Try to imagine fleeing from your home. Try to imagine having such hope of coming to a nation of fresh starts, only to find they don't want you.
Atticus Finch always says it best:
“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view … until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”
