There is a game I ran into a while back where there were pictures of different people and the object was to guess their occupation according to their outward appearance.  I cannot remember the name of the game, but I remember that it was interesting to learn that the occupations the individuals had were not anything like what one would stereotype them to have.  There was like a big, burly, white, man with a long beard and many tattoos who was wearing lot’s of black and I thought for sure he had some sort of job in the motorcycle business.  The gentlemen, however, was something like an Editor for a Golf Magazine.  From the looks of him, I’m not sure if he had ever played a round of golf.

Yesterday, my Somali friend drew on my arms with Henna.  (See my post from yesterday, “Expect the Unexpected”.  Today I was out with my son, Matthew, and his friend, Adam.  We went to Subway to get a sandwich.  There was a line of people waiting to order.  We got in line and as we did, I noticed people staring at me oddly.  I noticed a man (another motorcycle looking man with tattoos) staring at my arms and then at the children.  It was then that I figured out why I was being stared at.  I had forgotten about the Henna on my arms.  The man may have been wondering why a suburbia mom with sweet young boys would have gotten the thick tattoo’s on her arms.  Perhaps he was stereotyping me or maybe he felt I had gotten a bad tattoo.  I smiled inside, remembering my Somali friends and how I had received such a sweet blessing in their friendship and time spent with them yesterday doing the Henna together.  You can’t always judge a book by its cover!

Many of my refugee friends have black skin.  Because they come into the city of Memphis with black skin and often uneducated, they are often quickly assumed by others as though they are African-Americans of some sort of lower class.  Some of the black Americans in Memphis have struggled to fight against racial barriers for years, while others may have it easier than they would admit.  The racial tension in the city of Memphis between blacks and whites has been something Memphis has struggled to improve for decades.  I believe, the Lord is at work in this city and is working to change this for the better.  It might just be Asha’s Refuge that takes part in helping to bring whites and blacks together.

It’s often hard for dark-skinned, non english speaking refugees to be accepted in the social systems in the city of Memphis.  I have heard from many of my friends, that some black Americans have often shunned them especially in their schools.  I’ve also heard that some white business owners will not slow down to take the time to give them a chance at a job.  My experience has shown me that there are always some people in every culture, of every race, religion, tribe or ethnicity that will try to take advantage of the systems out there that are designed to help those who are less fortunate.  Whether it be a person on the end of the rich and educated side not giving a chance to a poor or less fortunate person or it be a poor man not willing to ever work towards helping himself or others, corruption happens with every group of people.  Therefore, I feel that it’s a shame that anyone should single any one group out. There are always people who choose to do wrong and their actions do not necessarily speak for the entire group of people.

What I pray for, for the refugees is that the community of Memphis will want to learn more about them before they immediately look at them to label them as forever uneducated, inept or incapable.  If given care and love and the opportunity to learn and thrive, I believe most of my friends will succeed.  How wonderful it will be to see just how much Asha’s Refuge can be a voice and advocate to this minority group of people.  I too, will work hard not to ever label a person for what they appear to be on the outside before I get to know them better on the inside.  As a matter of fact, perhaps it isn’t my job to ever label a person at all.  I’ll Just Love.