I work with international refugees who have recently settled in Providence. Most don’t speak English. Many are not literate in their own language. None are familiar with the American job system. Most live precariously, struggling to get a foot into the job market. As much as they love Providence, some aren’t sure they will stay.
The other day, I spoke with Erneste Ntahondereye, one of the pillars of the 200-plus strong Burundian refugee community that has made Providence home. Erneste complained about all the Burundians moving to Amarillo, Texas, to work in the meat-packing factories. He’d gone to visit recently and was appalled. Parents were working, but refugee children were staying home or dropping out of school. There were minimal social services. He thumped his skull. “Their heads,” he said, “empty, empty!”
I've been meaning to post these lyrics here for a while just because it seems like the right thing to do. And it might put a song in your brain. Maybe someday they'll film a new (and better) video of the song in refugee camps. I included a few of Bono's comments about pain at the end.
Chagall was an exile and a refugee and he painted from his heart, and his heart was horrified by the forces that were gathering people from their homes and homelands into a massive river of suffering and then expelling them into the unknown. When that happens--at least in this painting--the world turns dark.
I send updates about Syria or Sudan or C.A.R. in our Twitter and news feed, but I’m not always sure this is wise or healthy. While I believe that bearing witness can both honor and protest suffering, seeing without responding can also make us callous or nihilistic or afraid or depressed. Reduction to 140 characters (!) sent or read while walking the dog (and intermixed with pictures of what Uncle Joe ate last night) threatens to trivialize. Yet deep compassion without action or interaction can sometimes shake us.
On April 12, we are gathering a group of creative people for a Design Jam. If you live in the Providence area, then you and your friends are invited to join us.
The event will be facilitated by Tino Chow, a designer, strategist (and self-professed trouble maker). Tino is a RISD grad, TED Fellow, and granola fan, and now works for a design firm in New York.
