Yesterday I read that Donald Trump has called for the US to stop allowing Muslim people to enter our country. It really can’t be surprising since many of the state governors have already made it known that they will not be accepting refugees into their states. Even though I’m pretty sure that they can’t actually legally do that. I’ve struggled with the concept of denying refuge to those in need. I’ve wondered how a people who have read history can look at the flood of refugees running for their lives and not see the similarities of the Jewish people during the Holocaust. How do we look at a human being who has left all that they have and say they can’t come here? How do we tell a parent who’s child did not survive the journey that they have journeyed in vain? But we are.
How did it come to this? I’ve heard the arguments, that we need to protect our own, that we don’t know who these people are, that there are terrorists among them. You know… there are terrorists here now. You cannot tell who they are by looking at them. You cannot tell who they are by being members of their family. You cannot tell who they are… period. We’ve done far more damage to our own, that has been done to us by the hands of international terrorists. I’m over those arguments. I recognize that there is a possible danger. I recognize there is a danger to me driving a car too. That doesn’t mean I don’t do it. That doesn’t mean that I don’t open my arms and say welcome, be at peace here. If anything it means that I do it more. I am not one that wishes ill to you and your family. I am not one who believes that you are a terrible person. I just want you to be safe. I want to give you the best chance you can have. I want to give you what I would desperately be searching for if our roles were reversed. I want to give you a place to lay your head and weep. I want to give you the time to rest. I want to give you love. I understand that it’s hard to hear me. That the voices of bitter hatred are loud and seemingly many, but they don’t speak for everyone.
I’ve heard that I’m a bleeding heart, that I haven’t seen what they’ve seen. I’ve heard I’m too young to understand. I’m tired of hearing that. If your heart doesn’t break for families that are torn apart, my heart breaks for you. I may not have seen what they have seen, but I have witnessed terrible acts. I’ve watched buildings be destroyed by those who live here and those who don’t. I’ve watched loved ones come to terms with the death of their family members at the hands of terrorists, those who live here and those who don't. I’ve felt the fear of letting my child go to school without me to protect her, because elementary school isn't safe anymore. And regardless of my age, I am old enough to read, to take in history, to look at both sides and make a decision of my own. I am young but I am not stupid, and their assumption that I am is ridiculous. I am fully aware of the decision I am making, of the possible consequences. Who am I to tell those looking for refuge to look elsewhere? Who am I to turn my backs on the hopeless? Who am I?
