The fact is, most of us don’t know a whole lot about Syrian refugees.
I know I didn’t.
Don’t.
Last time I checked we had an Arab country that got themselves tangled up in a civil war, we had a pretty overbearingly rough government—being stood up to by a pretty passionate group of rebels—all the while displacing a whole mess of men, women, and children from their previously “safe” homes.
Aaaaaaannnnd scene…
Sure it sucks, and heck yeah I feel bad for these people, but what exactly am I supposed to do about it? They’re the Middle East, aren’t things always fragile and despondent over there?
Tell me that isn’t pretty much the only information YOU have as well?
Back to my friend Brandon. We were discussing this topic over sushi, remember?
He helped me better understand the depth of not only why this is all happening, but more importantly, what these tragic circumstances are doing to the people of Syria as a whole.
It’s dehumanizing. And it’s happening right before our desensitized eyes.
It’s unthinkable, but five years ago Syria was a country full of men and women with careers, families, retirement plans, savings accounts, birthday parties, iPhones, and favorite sports teams. This is a country of men, women, and children, who had career goals for the future, and family plans for the weekend.
Sound familiar?
We’re ultimately viewing our reflection—only without a mirror in sight.
So, why not us? Why not me? Why is this not happening to my family? To my friends? To my country? I could spout some naïve theories with shortsighted reasoning, but that wouldn’t be too helpful. Not at this point.
What I will do, however, is share some stories. Real. Human. Stories.
That’s what I promise to do over the next week as I share photos, profiles and intimate portraits of people like you and me—just in a different part of the world.
In a different place.
I hope you’ll join me.
Jon
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.
