Grace and peace!

As a staff member of Casa Marianella, I would like to invite y’all into conversation here, via the comments of this blog, around the overarching topic of immigration. It goes without saying (though I’ll say it anyway) that immigration greatly affects our broader community and our nation, and yet it’s a topic that we rarely talk about.
I mean really talk about. With open arms instead of fists and with inquisitive tones instead of shouting.

I acknowledge that blogs are not set up for (meaningful) conversation. For starters, written communication generally runs a higher risk of misinterpretation, given the lack of body language and vocal expression that is available (things that provide helpful nuance to our words, and things that emojis just can’t replace). Yet it is important for us to use a medium that allows for an educational context (which rules out more provocative platforms such as Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter) and an opportunity for us to digest new information before responding (which Zoom and other virtual meeting programs make difficult). 

Maybe you are still wondering why there is a need for conversation at all. Maybe immigration as a whole doesn’t seem to impact your daily life. Asking these kinds of “why” questions are incredibly important, and so I want to take a moment to thank you for asking them.
I would also like to acknowledge the reality that immigrants are living among us, and often immigrants are us, whether we are aware of it or not. And so it’s less a question about “why,” and more a question about “what.”
What does it mean for our community to be comprised of native-borns and immigrants? 

My hope is that as we engage in ongoing conversation around these “what” questions, we can slowly begin to delve deeper into the “how” questions.
How can native-borns and immigrants live together in genuine community (one that involves fellowship, not fear)?

But First, Allow Me to Introduce Myself

My name is Emily (or Emi), and I will be facilitating our conversation. I’ve been working with Casa Marianella for a little over a year, and I’m quite interested in dialoguing with people in our broader community who are equally passionate (or mildly curious) about immigration.

I am a white, Christian (Lutheran), cis-gendered and straight female. My thirty-something self was born and bred lower-middle class in south-central Pennsylvania. I score as an IS(T/F)J on the Myers-Briggs scale and as an enneagram 2wing1 (which means that, for better or worse, I have a helping personality with a distinctive streak of perfectionism). I moved to Texas in June of 2020, and I confess that I’m still acclimating to life here.
(I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat.)

But enough about me. This conversation is most assuredly not about me.
I share these things with you because it’s important to acknowledge the lenses through which we see the world, especially before entering into difficult conversations such as this one. In order to better understand who immigrants are, we (as native-borns) must first consider who we are.

A quick (but important) sidenote…

I’ve not shared my partisan leanings because I’m a firm believer that the truth of human experience is often found somewhere in the middle. It’s found in the space where we are in relationship with one another, which is the same space where meaningful conversations (ones that seek to understand instead of undermine) are able to blossom.
All this to say that nothing I write, however “political” sounding, is intended to invoke or support any one political party’s agenda. And to be clear, Casa is not affiliated with any political party or faith tradition.

And while we’re on the subject of “politics,” let it be known that my use of this word (which comes from the Greek word politiká, meaning ‘affairs of the cities’ – did I mention that I’m a seminary graduate?) is limited to describing the framework that groups of people create to help them make decisions and to distribute resources or power. Meaning that “politics” may generally involve partisanship (the favoring of one ideology over another), but it is not the same thing as partisanship. At least not for me and not in the context of this blog.

One More Thing – Our Conversation Needs Some Boundaries

As facilitator of this virtual dialogue, I want to ensure that it is a constructive one. In other words, there is no room for name-calling, finger-pointing, or any kind of inflammatory language. I’m warning y’all now that such comments will be deleted. By joining this dialogue, we are collectively agreeing to take responsibility for what we say and how we say it. My invitation to converse through the comment space of this blog is an invitation to ask questions when you’re unsure and to offer insight when you have it.

May we challenge one another’s perspectives with compassion.
May we open our hearts and minds to learning.
And may we build a community that is mutually supportive.

Okay, So Where Do We Begin?


We’ll begin by reflecting upon the words of Behrouz Boochani (a Kurdish-Iranian journalist with firsthand experience of the Australian immigration system).
He writes in his memoir No Friend but the Mountains that,
“Respect is central” (398).
Respect is often the greatest form of advocacy and support that we can give to another human being, including immigrants.


In the coming weeks, I hope that together we can define what respect looks like in relationship with the immigrants living within and among us.

In solidarity,
Emi

Now it’s your turn…

In the comments below be sure to introduce yourself and tell us what draws you to this conversation! Ask a question, tell a story, or leave an idea. Let’s get this conversation started!