Who Deserves to be an American?

“America was not built on fear. America was built on courage, on imagination, and an unbeatable determination to do the job at hand”

Harry S. Truman

No one.

Those of us who had the exceptional luck to be born here, or our parents moved here when we were young, or we had the money to immigrate legally, we are Americans. None of us did anything deserving of the title. We didn’t “earn” the right to be an American. For me? I had the luck of being born in America. I did absolutely nothing to deserve it or earn it. It was dumb luck on my part. That is all. No one deserves it more than anyone else.

Now imagine that you were not that lucky. That your home no longer feels safe. That you would do anything to escape, to make sure your children wouldn’t live in fear. Can you imagine leaving everything you own to try and escape? Because I can’t. I’ve tried, but any time I allow myself to think I could imagine how it feels I swiftly remind myself that I HAVE NO IDEA how that would feel. I have never had to flee my home. Never had to leave all of my belongings – my family keepsakes, photos, valuables – and hope that what I’m able to carry will be enough. Enough to get to safety. Enough to start over. Just, enough.

I hope that my family never has to experience fleeing our home in fear for our lives. But if we did, I hope that we would be met with open arms wherever we ended up. That those who were able to offered us a hand, a meal, whatever they could spare. That instead of greeting us with fear because of where we were born they greet us with a smile and kindness. With understanding and compassion. That even if they have never experienced the terror of having to leave their home, that they can still find a way to say: “Welcome to your new home”. And not: “We don’t want you here”.

As we begin to see refugees arriving from Afghanistan, I urge everyone to take a moment to try and imagine what it must be like for them. They have fled their homes. They have left everything behind. Some families are no longer together. Imagine how that must feel. Let it sit there for a moment longer. If it makes you uncomfortable, ask yourself why. Why do some Americans resist the thought of accepting refugees? What if they were fleeing from Canada instead of Afghanistan? Or from France? How about a ship full of English refugees? Should it matter where they are coming from?

This evening I will be taking my oldest to the open house at his school in preparation for another year of education. We won’t be grabbing what we can and running in terror to find somewhere to hide until we can be evacuated. We will simply get in our vehicle and drive the short distance to the school, and then return to the comfort and safety of our home. This is not lost on me. I am forever thankful for our luck. Because that’s what it is: luck. We are lucky to live where we do. We don’t deserve to be living in the United States any more than anyone else who is not.

If you live in an area where Afghan refugees will be settling – please be kind. Ask how you can help. Offer a smile when you see them learning the neighborhood. Don’t say your heart is breaking for them, and then turn around and say we shouldn’t let them in. Let them in and offer them a hand. Help when and how you can. If nothing else, just be kind.