Glorious Day

I have to believe that something biologically changes within us when the snow starts to melt.  Its the smell.  Wet.  Wet and slushy.  But not cold winter slushy.  The spring slush.  Mmmmm.  Granted, my toes are absolutely frozen from all the winter seeping in through my boots, but oh its so worth it.  Dear thaw, I love you.  Please stay.


I work with refugees.  Did I tell you that? I do. Its not glamorous, but that's not the point. In a small office building just west of MSP Int'l Airport.  It fits actually: conversing with Somalis and Iraqs all day while listening to the sound of jumbo jets throttling into the atmosphere.

RRRRRWHOOOOSHHHHHHH!  Then they're gone.  New places, travel, changes.  That's what these people are going through.  Most of them have never been on a plane until they boarded the one to America.  Yikes. They enter at the airport and keep coming back to the same area to see us every week. I have absolutely no idea what its like to start over in a foreign country where everyone thinks you're slightly dumb because you're English can't pass the 1st grade; never mind the fact that you're an accomplished employee in your own country or that you've already had years of schooling - you have to start again.  Cleaning toilets.  I think I'd lock myself in a dark room and try not to think about it.


It sort of makes me mad (well really makes me mad) when I hear people ragging on the immigrant populations in the Cities.  Excuse me? Did you just get torn from your homeland, lose almost everything you knew, and tossed into a culture that makes cockroaches look slow? Nope? I didn't think so.  All of these people have intricate stories.  Complex tribal and familial histories.  I'm not suggesting it as an excuse for bad behavior or poor citizenship; but come on, take a walk in their shoes.Thank you, this has been "Analysis of the American Culture" with Shasta. Well, everyone knows I'm nuts so I won't apologize for the rant.  Besides, I meant every word.

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