The Middle of Everywhere (40 page)

Ten Common Beliefs of the JPI

1. Refugees are ignorant and have no formal education.
   This is not true. Many were doctors, professors, engineers, and journalists in their native lands. Mohamed, for example, was a foreign exchange student to Austria when he was in high school.
   
2. The United States takes in most of the world's refugees.
   We actually take less than 1 percent of the world's refugees. Many countries take a much larger share than we do. And many host countries are much poorer than the United States.
   
3. Most refugees are here illegally.
   This also is not true. Most have the proper papers and are desperately seeking to comply with the INS. My INS story about Sadia and her daughter going to Hastings illustrated how difficult that can be.
   
4. Newcomers are taking American jobs.
   In fact, they are filling jobs that Americans won't take and thus enabling businesses to prosper in a time when minimum-wage workers are hard to find. They are a tremendous boon to our economy, especially our rural economy. Furthermore, relations between newcomers and old-timers are not a zero-sum game. Refugees buy groceries and other products in our stores and introduce innovations that ultimately help all of us.
   
5. Newcomers do not pay taxes.
   In fact, refugees pay taxes, including property taxes. Even though they pay taxes, newcomers cannot vote or receive many government benefits and they were not eligible for the Bush tax rebate of 2001. They are taxed without representation.
   
6. Tax dollars go to teach refugees in their own languages.
   Actually, the concept of ELL is that our publicly funded schools teach newcomers English.
   
7. Newcomers don't want to learn English.
   Not being able to understand the languages of newcomers makes some locals uncomfortable. Some people think refugees are talking about them. Some locals have the mistaken belief that newcomers don't want to learn English. It seems ironic that we expect people to learn our language rapidly when so few of us speak any language but English. However, people who haven't struggled to learn another language have less empathy for how difficult it is to succeed with a new language. The fact is, most refugees, many of whom speak four or five languages already, are desperately trying to learn English.
   
8. Most refugees end up on welfare.
   In feet, all of the refugees I know do 3-D work—difficult, dirty, and dangerous. And most were working within a month of their arrival.
   
9. Anyone who wants to can come to America.
   This is not true. We have strict rules and quotas on new refugee arrivals. Most people are shocked to hear that asylum seekers are often put in detention centers, even though they have committed no crimes and are often here because they fought for democracy at home.
   When asylum seekers arrive in this country, desperate for sanctuary from totalitarian regimes, they are often treated like criminals while they wait out a long process of adjudication to determine if they truly deserve asylum status. Many are sent back to their countries of origin, even though this may mean death or prison for them.
   
10. "Why don't they go back where they belong?"
    Refugees are here because they had no choices but to be here. They couldn't stay where they were. I want to respond to this question by asking, "Would you stay where your children saw people being killed if they looked out the windows? Or where you were made to participate in your parents' torture and execution? Or, where you might be beaten until you could never work again for the crime of speaking to an American? Would you stay where your daughter could be raped and shot by soldiers?"
    

Refugees bring in evil as well as good. Refugees, like other Americans, range from saints to psychopaths. All cultures have values that are loving and strength-producing and values that are punitive and deleterious. No culture has a monopoly on goodness or common sense.

Desperate people arrive having learned desperate ways to survive. Some countries export their criminals and fanatics. Our towns must sometimes cope with imported drug cartels and gangs. More routinely, some newcomers are unpleasant and difficult just as some old-timers are. Some are lazy, alcoholic, and misanthropic, just as some locals are.

Probably the greatest tensions are around finding the balance between respect for ethnic traditions and respect for human rights. For example, some men from traditional cultures will not allow their wives to leave home or to study English. Women are kept at home and denied opportunities to make friends, learn our language, and enjoy our city.

I witnessed the birth of a baby whose mother had experienced female genital mutilation as a girl. The mother had a terrible time with pain and bleeding. Her body required much repair work after the delivery. The baby had a hard time being born and barely survived. After seeing the effects of this traditional practice, I will never again be silent about female circumcision.

One of the best documents in the history of the world is the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, a bill of rights for the world (see appendix 3). It was formulated by the United Nations in 1948, right after World War II, and prohibits torture and slavery and argues for the right to equal pay for equal work and freedom of religion and speech. I would like to see this document hanging on the walls of our public buildings and cultural centers.

In fact, all over the world, support for the Universal Declaration of Human Rights is being challenged by those who argue in favor of cultural relativity. Some argue that it is "Eurocentric" to enforce human rights. Well-meaning people are often confused about how to proceed. Should they respect a local cultural act, even if it involves treating certain people badly?

An example of this changing perspective on respect for human rights comes from an English class. For years a colleague I know has taught college students Shirley Jackson's short story "The Lottery." In this story, a villager is selected by the others to be stoned in a traditional ceremony. This story once horrified students, but in the last few years, students have had a different reaction. Instead of reacting with sympathy for the victim of the stoning, they condone the villagers' behavior under the guise of cultural relativity. Apparently, to many people, even murder is all right if it's a cultural tradition.

Human rights should be universal. Cultural traditions are not set in stone. Cultures are not monolithic. Rather, they are processes, or sets of negotiations between members. Cultures are practical, active, and creative responses to specific conditions. They are constantly changing, and within any given culture there are many points of view and many different groups and members.

Culture isn't the property of just the leaders or the powerful. The right to interpret the cultural values doesn't belong to any one group. It is important to ask whose interests are served and whose are violated by a tradition. Who profits from maintaining the status quo in a culture? Who stands to gain with change?

For me, human rights trumps respect for ethnic traditions. Slavery may exist in certain cultures, but it is wrong. Dowry deaths may be a cultural tradition, but they are unjust. A rigid caste, gender, and class system has no place in a free world. Many countries value men over women, but that is wrong. Cultural relativity should be a liberating, not a constraining, concept. It should allow us to select from all cultures what is best for us humans, not hold us to that which is harmful in the name of respect for tradition.

Margaret Mead defined the ideal culture as one in which there was a place for every human gift. I have found no better definition of an ideal culture. Mead's definition includes both respect for the individual and a belief in community. It's a transcendent definition that encompasses all cultures in all times and places.

My own deepest belief is that the purpose of human life is to grow and become all we can be in order to use those gifts for the betterment of other people. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights merely tries to set up minimal standards that allow people to develop into who they can be. Without it, our world is a very dark and dangerous place.

Such delicate goods as justice, love, honor and courtesy, and indeed all the things we care for, are valid everywhere but they are variously molded and often differently handled and sometimes nearly unrecognizable if you meet them in a foreign land, and the art of learning fundamental common values is perhaps the greatest gain of travel to those who wish to live at ease with their fellows.

—F
REYA
S
TARK

My experiences writing this book have been satisfying on intellectual and emotional levels. I have always loved Culture and Personality studies and now I can be an anthropologist in my own town. Every day I hear incredible stories. All of a sudden, I am reading every word in the foreign news section of our paper. Because of my human connections, I am curious about the situations in El Salvador, Sierra Leone, and Macedonia.

Before I did my homework, I knew little about the Kurds or the Bosnians. I was woefully ignorant of Africa and the Middle East, and my knowledge of Southeast Asia was limited to the Vietnam War, which the Vietnamese call the American War. Now I am interested in the Sudanese government, the economic troubles of Tajikistan, and the geography of Africa.

Writing this book has changed me profoundly and forever. I have a much broader sense for what being human can entail. In
Fugitive Pieces,
Anne Michaels wrote, "There's nothing a man will not do to another and there is nothing a man will not do for another." I've been a witness to the truth of her statement.

When I first began working with refugees, I was anxious around them. I worried that I wouldn't be able to communicate or that I would accidentally offend them. The more time I have spent with Laotian, Kurdish, Croatian, and Romanian people, the more comfortable I have become.

I have worked to decolonialize my mind and examine my ethnocentric assumptions about everything from cleanliness to psychology to what is edible. It was easy to confuse local culture with universal human nature. It was easy to assume that the way we do things was the most sensible way. Refugees would often ask me, "Why do you do it that way?" and I had to ask myself, "Yes, why do I do it that way?"

Everything is more complex than it seems. Religion and politics are danger zones. I asked an Iranian, a liberal well-educated woman, about the Ayatollah and she glared at me and said, "We do not discuss Imam with Americans." When I first worked with ELL high school students, I was ill-informed about the war in Bosnia and Croatia. I barely knew the names of their countries and leaders. Especially given my ignorance of the politics of other countries, it was easy to say the wrong thing about foreign policy or the causes of the war back home. And what seemed like a small mistake to me felt like a giant insult to someone who had lost family members in a war I did not understand. I am trying to become better informed, and as I grow more interested, the world becomes much more interesting.

In my interactions with newcomers, I learned the importance of keeping things simple. Instead of grand gestures or big, overwhelming events, small quiet lessons worked best. Elaborate events tended to overwhelm newcomers and involved complicated scheduling, which could set things up for failure.

Expensive outings, dinners in restaurants, or concert tickets could make newcomers feel beholden to me in ways that made them uncomfortable. They couldn't repay the gifts and thus felt like lesser people. Generosity could be perceived as a burden and a statement about status. I learned to let refugees give me gifts and to make sure my gifts were small enough that we could have a reciprocal relationship.

Of course, sometimes giving money was absolutely necessary. But more often knowledge and love were what pulled people through a rough patch. As Greg Brown sings, "Stuff without knowledge is never enough."

What newcomers most valued was good information and acceptance. When these were present, most people could figure out a way to help themselves. People, not material possessions, were the most valuable resources. Over and over, I saw people help each other. Community relationships, not bank accounts, kept people's spirits high.

My interpersonal skills were given a workout with traditional people. I'm an informal person, very egalitarian, and not terribly respectful of gender and age differences. I had to learn to behave more formally. I wore dresses and nylons. I addressed people as Mr. and Mrs.

My experiences have given me a sense for the complexity and richness of life, for what, to quote Greg Brown again, he describes as, "a world filled with terror and grace." I have learned that truth is not the property of any one culture. Every culture has its strengths and weaknesses, its beauty and ugliness. It's especially important to listen to the quiet voices in a culture and to acknowledge that cultures change and that right now they are changing very rapidly. There is no one right way to think about anything. Carol Bly writes that civilization is "partly about noticing and appreciating what other people are doing." It's about appreciating the richness of a world with multiple points of view.

I learned the importance of simple good manners. For instance, I learned to remove my shoes before entering the homes of people from many parts of the world. I have worked to learn who, where, and when I can touch. I learned that to touch a Vietnamese child on the head is an insult. I learned not to blow my nose in front of Asians. I stopped being so time conscious. Sometimes I slowed down to the speed of wisdom.

I went to the home of a Muslim family after the grandfather died. Thank goodness I had a guide who told me not to take flowers to the family. Flowers would have signified I was happy about the death. I was also told to wear black and not to smile. Smiling would also imply I was happy. I was told to take money or food—tea, rice, or oil. With all this coaching, I may have made it through my fifteen-minute visit without deeply offending people I liked and wanted to help.