I am relatively new to having dialogue on the subject of difference. In an attempt to avoid what perpetuated in Germany during the former half of the 20th century ever igniting again, a developing social proposition of communication is voiced below.
In the midst of a relaxing afternoon at the Heim, it dawned on Daniel and I that it was about time to venture out to the local laundromat to stock up on clean underwear and t-shirts for the next epic weeks ahead in Germany. We hopped on the outbound 110 eager to find the coin operated experience awaiting us down four stops south.
The german laundromat we sought is situated on the corner of a platz in a sleepy city neighborhood next to a community green space. Only a few tired workers meandered home across the cobbled square as we trudged along, eager to see their families and motivated by the prospect of a good meal. We could empathize, unable to think of anything better than a full homestyle pizza at a brick oven pizza joint one block east. After the enchanting process of discovering of how the robotic payment system worked and stuffing our garments in European washers the size of toilet bowls, we indulged in sliced (yes! pre-sliced!) pizza and coke. At the time, given my stomach’s state, you could have made the logical assertion tomato and cheese on crispy bread originated right there in west Germany.
Back at the cleaner’s transferring our clothes to the driers, we took note of a man, in his 30’s or 40’s, pacing anxiously about the door and frequenting the aisle. His manner was unnatural as he seemed overly concerned about watching his machines, quiet and seemingly suspicious about us. We were taken aback when he offered us a cigarette, asking if we smoked. To our decline, he continued about his routine. We too took to watching our own machines, wondering who this man was.
Next, in a second attempt to initiate conversation, the man asked me for change for a two euro coin for the machines. It only occurred to me later that the coin collectors at the front actually take two euro coins, and it would have been alright to decline. I fished around for change, and presented him with and equivalent value in 20 cent coins. Our trade was facilitated by his focused eyes on our transaction, in which I dropped my coins to his calloused hands first, to be followed by a not-particularly instantaneous release of the two euro coin into mine. He thanked me, and quickly fled to the front.
Americans tend to say things we don’t really mean. It’s easy to put ourselves in an undesirable position in an unfamiliar culture if we do not match our works and intentions. For instance, we greet people in passing, not always with the purpose of striking up conversation, but to be polite. We do not, usually, have an intent to truly hear someone’s life story when we ask how they’re doing, or where they are from. However, the man appeared again in front of us as soon as the words fell from our lips. He was ready to give testimony, to be heard, respected, recognized, loved, and known.
The slaughter of millions of targeted jews and other specific groups in Europe under nazi occupation was cold, calculated genocide by people just like you and I. A multitude of made-up reasons, fake news, propaganda machines, and patriotic speeches lured an entire continent into a frenzy. Our visit to the concentration camp at Sachsenhausen not only exhibited the innumerable atrocities involved in nazi actions, but also reminded us of the still-present attitudes towards minority groups in our world. White supremacist vandals have tried to destroy the exhibits, and swastika graffiti left subtle but eery signs that Hitler’s fight is far from over. Immigration is part of Germany’s story, just as it is in America. Both of our countries, now and in the past, have dealt with walls, wars, refugees, racism, and rhetoric. I am at a loss to attempt any explanation as to how one should combat this useless, reckless, brutal division. Without a doubt, I see remnants of it too in my own life, and unhappily recognize my own irrational sentiments. Father, forgive us for our human form of justice, our suspicions, our envy. Forgive us for our lack of connection and plentiful misperceptions.
The man began lurching toward us, shouting and ranting, waving his hands and cursing a story that descended upon us in the laundromat. He was BAD! Not good. He proclaimed he was German, he was American, he was Syrian, he was!! Did it matter? Why must he be defined and confined because he was born in a warzone? Why must he be refused the basic need of identification papers from an embassy? Why did no-one take time to hear him, instead of putting the phone down after 23 seconds of a call, and reject his reasonable pleas for help? Why did our president make him a thief and a criminal? No work, no identity, no home, no one. Papers, papers, papers, papers. They watch you, watch you, watch you. They want tickets, tickets, tickets, tickets. They do not know him. We do not know him. He lost everything, we have it all. He pulled out his brass knuckles, showing us his only protection in the world in the absence of government, security, money, or family. He asked us
to help.
Hear his story. Breathe it, smell it, bathe in it, you don’t need more details, you know this man. We are the answer, and we can help him. We are a people that categorizes, codes, assumes and concludes in order to survive. It is a gross oversimplification of things to seek ‘an end to stereotypes’, so we should not seek to do so. Sometimes stereotypes help us to survive, yes. We seek an era of equality, though we do not know how else to deal with it then to alienate, disassociate, and imprison those who are unlike us, thus falling back into the same vicious cycle. We make no real attempt at communication when we feel danger. Our mission, then, is conversation. To listen and share, reach across the city. Our best option is this engagement, so that we may break unnecessary boundaries that serve to hurt us all. We will never solve injustice as humans, but much like we will never be fully like Jesus, we can always strive to be more just, more like our example-savior. Jesus stood for the ‘least-of-these’, never once for the policies of powerful rulers and institutions of this world. He answered to a higher power, and so should we. We are commanded by Him to love, and by definition, that means all walls must fall, both literally and figuratively.
Literally: Unfair borders, concentration camps, gates and fences. Figuratively: Racist rhetoric, dis-inclusivity, discrimination, targeted advertisement, and polarizing views.
If we had not listened to this man, simply put, we would not have heard his story. The man asked us as we finally found a way out of the conversation and into the evening Platz to help him and to spread his story. Hence this post. We made a promise that as university students at Calvin University, that we could help him and people like him in our career fields. If we follow though on this promise, it will mean more than money. The Newsboys have a funny line in a song where they talk about changing the world as christians: “Just the smallest spark can ignite the dark”… yeah, that’s easier said than done. But we can do it. Let’s start talking, and trust God will lead us from there.