Forget politics — try focusing on compassion

Politics aside, let’s talk about the border situation. That’s challenging these days, so let me see if I can help. You see, I’m Christian, but I’m not a Democrat or Republican. Although I often feel disenfranchised in today’s polarized political climate, I take an obstinate pride in defying categorization and remaining fiercely independent.

Last month, my husband and I volunteered near the border at a shelter for migrants. It was a powerful experience — both physically and emotionally taxing. We listened to stories of hardship and suffering. We played with children and comforted crying babies. As I held an 11-month-old child in my arms until he stopped crying, I was struck by a simple thought: In a world full of vitriol, what if everyone was able to hold a migrant child — hear that child’s cry, feel the sobs racking his whole body, comfort him until the crying ceased, feel his breathing slow to match yours until he relaxes against you, and then feel him cling to you for dear life when you try to let him go?

My heart had melted.

Who wouldn’t feel the same, I wondered.

With a heart full of compassion and love, there’s no room left for anger or resentment. The color of the child’s skin doesn’t matter. It makes no difference that his name is Miguel, not Michael, or that he wasn’t born on the U.S. side of the river. He was scared and traumatized, but now he’s sleeping peacefully against your shoulder. It is such a small thing, but at the same time, it is beautiful and almost miraculous how a simple hug can change so much.

If you’re not able to venture to the border, perhaps you can try this: Hold your own child or grandchild close for a moment and imagine how you would feel if she was separated from you and left to fend for herself in a freezing concrete cell without blankets, showers, clean clothes, nutritious food, and comfort.

Try to refrain from laying blame on the parents for crossing the border illegally (although claiming asylum is a legal right) or endangering their children (although those we spoke with wanted their children to be safe from the violence at home). Regardless of how you interpret the actions of the parents, reflect upon all of the wrong turns you’ve made in your life and how you wouldn’t want your children to suffer or be punished because of your mistakes.

Still holding your child, give thanks to God that she has the opportunity to play and go to school. Thank God that she is safe, clean, and well-fed. Pray that your child will remain so and that if she is ever separated from you, kind strangers will comfort and care for her. Then, please pray intently for all of the many children held in U.S. detention facilities who are cold, dirty, hungry, and in need of comfort right now.

I realize that this may all sound incredibly simplistic and naïve. I know that it will not solve the real, legitimate problems with our immigration system. Nevertheless, I’m reminded of the scene in “To Kill a Mockingbird” when young Scout breaks up an angry mob that is intent on lynching an innocent black man. By singling one of them out and speaking to him personally, Scout inadvertently shatters their “mob mentality.” No longer anonymous, the individuals within the mob are ashamed. Scout’s father Atticus later muses, “A mob’s always made up of people, no matter what … it took an eight-year-old child to bring them to their senses.”

We need more humanity within today’s tribal politics as well. Let’s replace angry rhetoric and misleading stereotypes with personal experience and real encounters with migrant children. We have become so firmly entrenched within our tribes that we are often blinded by hatred toward opposing viewpoints and even toward each other. Perhaps we need the migrant children to soften our hearts, heal our divided tribes, and unify us as Americans. We may find that we have something in common after all. Regardless of our tribes, we can unite behind our humanity and compassion.