In full circle

They keep coming. The Haitians. Wading through waters. Muddle waters. Women, children and men.

Last year, near 12,000 refugees including Afghan were admitted. It’s the lowest since 1975. The year I entered the US. Also wading waters, carry-on on the side. First to Subic Bay, then onto the Mainland. Greeted us were nuns and priests, Red Cross and IRC. Many other VOLAGS were present as well. Compassion in steroid. After all, Saigon fell. The US confidence fell. Nightmare over (per Ford’s speech at Tulane University). American were eager to volunteer, to offer help. Like those in the same office I worked as a volunteer interpreter. Co-workers chipped in, pulled their money to buy a cake, and a gift. College dictionary. For me. Wet, worried and with a touch of optimism (that things cannot get worse).

Today, 46 years later, we experience compassion fatigue. People are tired of giving, of seeing their efforts going no where. That non-profit outfits were the only ones that thrived over the past few decades. It’s an industry now, with supply chain, social media pop up ads, and of course, coordination of money and personnel.

People on the giving end and people on the other end don’t meet. At all. Hardly. And only when we know the receivers’ names, the refugees’ address, that we can humanise them. People are not their newly received Social Security numbers. Our 21st-century nomads are now roaming the Earth, looking for foods and shelters. Just as in the beginning, before the Ice Age.

Pathetic. With all the policies and precedents. All the collection and distribution of funds. Where have all the flowers gone? Long time passing.

Disaster relief and immigration process. These issues seem forever at the forefront of each administration. Rightly so. Because ” the huddled mass yearning to breathe free” still. One of the summons that is still ringing true, fresh as the day it was first inscribed at the feet of Statue of Liberty.

Mother of exiles never gets tired. VOLAGS might. We might. Compassion fatigue. Ask not what your country can do for you. A fresh and renewed call to advocacy and activism.

If not you, then who. Not now, then when.

Why are we here? Where are we going? end up? What makes this (journey) worthwhile. Why are they coming? Their wading the waters reminds us of WHY. Our WHY, and their WHY, seem to coincide and converge: we want better. As Maya Angelou put it in “On the pulse of Morning”, “Each of you, descendant of some passed / On traveller, has been paid for ” whether it was a passage from Africa to America, or the Trail of Tears, or later Convoy of Tears/Boat People buying their way into this future which is NOW.

For now, with the pandemic, the economic, and the fatigue. We might need to come full circle, back to ourselves. Give ourselves a hug, a tap on the shoulder (sounds crazy). But like any fatigue, we need rest. Rest from the demand of life, from social media bombardment, from the mismatch of information speed and our absorption speed, from the amount of misinformation, from the voice inside our head (stored up many calls to action throughout our life time). We need to unplug. Screen sabbatical. But then, it seems magic: facebook did it for us, 3.5 billion unable to access those algorithm-driven post-pushes. Today, we have down time, for ourselves. For self-compassion. 40 years ago, even in our prime, we – World Relief volunteers in Hong Kong prison-turned-refugee-camps still needed a Sunday afternoon break. Just ride the double-deck buses to nowhere, up and down Sham Shui Po to take in the bustling scene, in total contrast to the confined space in the camp. Rest. Recover. R&R to return for more compassion fatigue.

I once was a refugee. When I first received from those eager givers. I was extremely grateful. Just to practice simple English with Shawn, at Penn State. Shawn just volunteered his time to befriend me, over a burger and fries off campus. Little did I know, small kind acts last a long time. So were Shawn’s and mine, and yours, when we are over and move beyond our compassion fatigue.

Receive, give, receive just like Earth spinning – round and round – to hide and reveal light in full cycle. ” On the pulse of this new day / You may have the grace to look up” (Angelou, again) and say simply, very simply- to your brothers and sisters, your country, “Good Morning”.