Today I go to English class and find out how students are faring after news of the new President’s executive order about refugees. Two weeks ago it was the Cubans who were under a cloud of overwhelming sadness. Today it will be the rest of the class. I plan on getting there early.
I expect most will view it as just another in a long line of closed doors. Most of them have been through so much, have waited so long, have been moved around so much, have lost so much, how had hopes dashed and money stolen, that they have mastered the art of taking the long view of things. Meanwhile, we whose ancestors came a long time ago get stuck in traffic or stand in line at Kroger and after 60 seconds are completely exasperated. We could learn a lot.
On Tuesday, I worked with three Syrian women, teaching them how to calculate, “If baby food costs $16 per week, how much does it cost for a month?” “If diapers cost $21 a week, what do they cost per day?” Gee, that was fun. A great challenge.
This is my niche and I know it, to serve the person in front of me. Right here. Right now. I am not a Facebook ranter. I invest zero time trying to arm wrestle someone into my view of things. It’s just not me. I was not meant for a pedestal or a spotlight. I am part of the great portion of humanity that tinkers away at the task at hand. But honestly, it’s taken me a long time to appreciate that about myself.