What is an immigrant?

This question is on my mind a lot lately. I know you all require much updating since I have not posted since May...and I will oblige with some images and timeline references scattered throughout. But first please allow me to meander :) What is an immigrant? It is defined as "a person who comes to live permanently in a foreign country". I don't know that this family ever does ANYTHING permanently! We are like the ROMA - kicking about in the tides and slightly unnerving to those who have no call to the road (or the sea). And, yet, we are now residents of Canada. My travels as an exchange student, my current work as a volunteer with YFU, the current political climate in the US and the floods of refugees all swim in my head as I consider what it means to be an immigrant beyond what one finds written on the page. This summer had us travelling back "home" again after being gone for almost a full year.

They say you can't go home again. I disagree and go home again and again and again.

We went home in planes, trains, and automobiles to the memories of who we were, the knowledge of who we are now, to those with fewer memories and a new little one with memories yet to be had. We went home to find our others...

I think about all these people that I LOVE and MISS soooooo much. But how hard is it for me really when I know I will and can go back. That, despite how desperate things may look to me financially at times...not seeing my family isn't in question the way it is and has been for so many immigrants. What would it be like to never see these faces again?

And then I consider what it takes to pack up your things and move to another place. Sure, I've done it. I packed two suitcases and went to Germany for a year when I was on exchange. I thought that was pretty hard...what do you choose? As a teen, nonetheless. We did it to move into the bus. However, as a teen I returned home after that year to my family and my possessions that I left behind. Even as an adult with a family we still have memorabilia and stuff in storage that we can return to from time to time. I realize that not all immigrants are in the most dire situations when they move. But think about your lives for a moment. What would make you pick and choose through your possessions, pack up what you could, take some of your family members (if you could) and move to a totally different country where you may not know the language or the culture? And possibly may not be able to afford, or be allowed, to return to your homeland again?

While my children were being very well cared for by my relatives, I was fortunate to volunteer at the National Pre-Departure Orientation for the Youth for Understanding Exchange Program. This is where we prepare the next generation of exchange student to go off into the world. First off, I am privileged to spend time with these people. The team leaders and staff are some of the most passionate and compassionate people I have ever met. We understand each other, as one former exchange student to another, and for 5 days I renew and absorb as much as I can from them. Secondly, the students there give me hope for the world of tomorrow. And, lastly, I always reflect on how difficult it is for me to leave my children...even for just 5 days. They are what I do and what I know and, while I am well aware of what a blessing the distance and space and renewal are for me, I consider what it must be like to immigrate away from your children. Or as a child away from your parents. There is a really beautiful scene in the movie BROOKLYN that I think paints this picture so well. Or in JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN, when you have no idea if your child is being well-cared for. Granted, these are old references. Today is a different world with Skype and the Internet and travel. For some of us.

Our trip came to an end and we returned to the place we currently call home. And to daddy!

Who is extremely patient with all of his wife's crazy ideas and talk of "faith in the process":)

We became involved in camps and found parks and water play and friends and lots to be involved in.

Which makes me think about what we tell exchange students. "When you first arrive, you will be so overwhelmed with the change and the differences in culture that you may experience culture shock". We tell them the warning signs and that the best antidote is, contrary to how you feel, get out into the world and get involved. We do this, partly because I know it from experience. I wonder, does anyone talk to immigrants about this? When they are depressed or lonely or homesick and keeping to themselves, do other people reach out and try to connect with them and pull them out of their shell? Or do they point at them and say things like, "Why can't they learn the language?", "Why do they only hang out with people like them?", "Why don't they try to integrate into our country if they are going to live here?". Maybe they would. Perhaps they just need some help. A friendly face. A cup of tea.

I think about how difficult it can be to be us sometimes - this particular family. The judgement and the criticism for being different. People trying to classify us in their minds one way or another to make it feel OK for themselves. "Oh, they're eccentric (or artsy or trendy or drug addicts or uncouth or unmotivated or jaded or lazy or whatever). Or needing us to portray some ideal that they want to achieve and cannot so that when we fall short of the mark it is immediately pointed at. And, yet, we can "afford" to be counter-culture. We can blend. We can be their ideal if they need that. It is a luxury that many immigrants do not have. If they do not assimilate to the standards and projected image of others, they are treading too heavily on the comfort zones of those who can barely expand their circle wide enough to include themselves. I guarantee that if things went really, really south in their country, they would be the first to pack and find a new flag to wave. Have not most of us changed jobs, neighbourhoods, schools? Except those that cannot even afford to push themselves into the next town, though I speculate they would if they could. Where is the chant within our own borders "they are coming to take our stuff?" What is the difference if your job is on this side of the line or that? The chant exists still...it is the small town that complains of the city-folk moving in, the gentrification, school systems that wax and wane with students and the school board that lures them in and then complains about the burden. The chant always exists, we just call it different things according to where we are and who is treading on us. Immigrants, northerners, southerners, out-of-staters, tourists, locals, etc. Are we not all people? Should we never have crossed the land bridge?!?! Or if the apes hadn't moved into the grasslands and stood, where would we be then?!?!

When we returned there was an eerie, smoky haze cast over the sun. The haze dissipated for a while and has actually since returned. It feels ominous to me. Like a warning. Like a message not to be ignored. The fires affecting people we know in Canada. The flooding affecting people we know in Texas. The hurricane affecting people we know in Savannah. And these are just the people we know in places we have friends and family. Somehow, this is the new normal.

So what am I trying to say? I don't know. Maybe we have no idea how long we are here. Or what the future holds. So don't just be with the ones you love. Love the ones you are with. No matter who they are or how different they are. Reach that hand out and give them a leg up, a smile, a cup of coffee, some coins for the vending machine. Because the next time you reach out, maybe it is you that needs the hand.