Last week I wrote about being a good neighbor, and about the extraordinary generosity of Czechs, Poles, Slovaks, and Romanians in welcoming refugees from Ukraine. It is easy to make the moral argument for taking in refugees, especially when we consider the terrible suffering of so many innocent people. It seems so obvious to me that welcoming refugees is the right thing to do. One hundred meters down the road from our home is housing for refugee families. Until a couple of weeks ago,1 several families from Syria lived there.
We are quite friendly with our Syrian neighbors. The children love our dog, Lynn. When they’re playing outside and we’re out for a walk, we can hear excited cries of “Lynn!” from down the street. One little girl told us that she had to leave her dog in Syria. She misses him terribly, and petting Lynn makes her feel better. As for fears about cultural integration, well, the Swiss have more to fear from me than they do from these children, given that they, humblingly, speak much better German than I do.
Unfortunately, moral arguments aren’t always the most persuasive, especially to people who are worried about the cultural and economic costs of taking in refugees. Fortunately, the evidence shows that welcoming refugees is not only good for them, but it is good for us too—for our culture, for our economy, and for our souls.
Refugees Enrich Our Culture
I have never understood the fear that if we admit refugees, they will destroy our culture. How strong are your cultural ties if they can be unraveled by the mere presence of a family from another country living down the street from you? And just how appealing is your culture if the moment people are exposed to another way of doing things they abandon yours? If we truly value and are committed to our own cultures, we can only gain by the presence of people from other communities.
I know whereof I speak. I grew up in Minnesota, which, since 1979, has welcomed almost 110,000 refugees (in a state with a total population of 5.5 million) from Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, Ethiopia, Somalia, Liberia, and other countries around the world. The Twin Cities metro area boasts the largest communities of Somalis, Hmong, and Liberians in the US. Minnesota’s churches, following the Biblical teaching that we are commanded to welcome strangers and treat them the same as the native-born, have been especially active in sponsoring and helping to support refugees.
I can assure you that in spite of the diverse groups that have made their homes in Minnesota, it is still easy to enjoy the dubious charms of lutefisk at a Lutheran church supper; to take a Scandinavian cooking class (one of my oldest friends, Patrice, teaches these classes at the American Swedish Institute; highly recommended if you live in the Twin Cities!); to hear the beautiful harmonies of Lutheran choral music in church every Sunday and in concert halls year-round; to purchase items decorated with rosemaling and other Nordic arts in shops around the state; and to appreciate the myriad other expressions of traditional Scandinavian Minnesota.
But if you would prefer not to eat fish that has been reduced to gelatinous slime after being soaked in lye for several weeks,2 or if you grow weary of mild flavors and would like a bit more spice, you will have ample reason to be grateful to the refugees who have made their homes in Minnesota. The population of Minneapolis is only about 360,000, and St. Paul is even smaller, and yet residents of the Twin Cities have their choice of scores of restaurants that offer outstanding and inexpensive food from around the world. I love Vietnamese food, which I first tasted when I was eleven. My mom used to teach ESL, and the family of one of her students, Xueyen, invited us to celebrate Lunar New Year with them. My brother and I very conspicuously devoured an inordinate number of egg rolls, which did not go unobserved; when we got up to leave, the family asked us to wait, and all the women ran into the kitchen to fry up three dozen egg rolls for us to take home with us. In fact I love all the cuisines immigrants have brought to Minnesota—when I first tried Ethiopian food in high school, it was as though the heavens had opened and an angel chorus was singing.
As an avid knitter, I am particularly interested in the textile arts brought to Minnesota by Hmong women, and I own several original pieces by these artists.
Hmong women display their art in galleries around the Twin Cities and at the Minnesota State Fair every year. And Minnesota is no exception: Wherever refugees settle, they become our neighbors and, far from destroying our culture, they share their cultures with us.
Refugees Enrich Our Economy
Minnesota has not been hurt by its generosity to refugees. Quite the contrary, U.S. News and World Report has rated Minnesota as the second-best state in the country for its overall quality of life on such important measures as economic opportunity, health, education, public safety, infrastructure, and economic stability. And this makes sense: Refugees who settle in our communities share their talents with us, start businesses, perform important work that citizens might not want to do, pay taxes, and spend their money in their new homes.
Another good example is Switzerland. Switzerland admits refugees at a per capita rate that far exceeds that of the US. In the most recent year that records are available, 2020, Switzerland granted asylum to almost 116,000 people, in a country of about 6.4 million Swiss citizens.3 Since 2016, the US has admitted an average of fewer than 12,000 refugees per year. If the US were to admit refugees at the same per capita rate as Switzerland, we’d be taking in more than 5.6 million refugees per year.4
If fears about refugees’ impact on the economy were warranted, we would expect Switzerland’s economy to be in big trouble, given such a disproportionately large number of refugees who make their homes here. Luckily, these fears are not legitimate, and, as is the case in Minnesota, refugees who settle in Switzerland enrich the Swiss economy and culture. (I am happy to report that Switzerland has terrific Ethiopian restaurants too.) As of 2020, the per capita GDP of Switzerland is $86,849, while the per capita GDP of the US is $63,593. Are you surprised? Switzerland’s generosity to refugees hasn’t at all hampered its economy, which is stronger than that of the US, even though Switzerland lacks the oil reserves and other natural resources the US has.5
To reinforce the point that refugees pose little to no danger to a country’s economy and in fact enrich it, it is useful to contrast Switzerland with a European country of about the same size that is hostile to refugees. Hungary is notorious for refusing to allow refugees to enter, going so far as to fence off its border with barbed wire. Hungary’s economy is much weaker than the EU average: The EU average per capita GDP is about $32,000 per year, while the same figure for Hungary is about $16,000. In addition, Hungary’s anti-refugee and anti-immigrant policies hurt ordinary Hungarians. Put simply, there are not enough Hungarians to perform all the work that needs doing, which is why Viktor Orbán imposed a law in 2018 that forces Hungarian workers to put in up to four hundred hours of overtime—often unpaid—per year. Far from taking citizens’ jobs, refugees and immigrants do the work that no one else wants to tackle.
I can imagine three possible objections to my argument that refugees benefit a country’s economy. First, I acknowledge that the country that takes in the most refugees in the world—Turkey—is much poorer than any other European country. Turkey would appear to disprove my point that countries that welcome refugees have strong economies. However, Turkey does in fact make the economic case for refugees, although in a different way: The EU pays Turkey to host the estimated 3.7 million Syrian refugees who live there. Thus, refugees provide a direct financial boost to Turkey’s economy.
Second, some readers may object that I am mixing up correlation and causation. And believe me, I get it. I am married to a mathematician who works as a data scientist, after all, so I am well aware that correlation does not imply causation. The phenomenon I’m observing may actually be the reverse of what I’ve been claiming—it would make sense that countries that are already rich will feel more able to be generous and welcoming to refugees than poor countries would. Maybe the large number of refugees in richer European countries like Germany, France, and Switzerland is an effect of their wealth, and not a cause.
Third, some other factor could be causing both a strong economy and a willingness to admit refugees. For example, Switzerland and Minnesota are high-trust, low-corruption societies.6 When people trust their government and fellow citizens, not only do businesses prosper (because they are able to operate under fair conditions), but people are also more likely to accept decisions made by community leaders and elected officials (because they believe the decisions are made for the common good and not to enrich cronies). But if we want to argue that low corruption leads to strong economies, it also seems likely that it is high corruption and not the presence of refugees that leads to weak economies. Regardless of whether welcoming refugees is a cause or an effect of strong national economies, or whether it arises from a third cause, the persistent economic strength of countries that are most welcoming to refugees suggests that even if the refugees don’t provide an immediate benefit to the countries’ economies, they don’t damage them either.
Refugees Enrich Our Souls
My former neighbor Jenny started the Westfield Fun Club with a friend to support Syrian refugee families who arrived in her New Jersey town. She kindly agreed to share her story here because she believes it is important to get the word out about how personally rewarding it is to work with refugee families. My questions are in bold, and her answers follow.
Do you have any stories that are especially meaningful to you in your experiences with the refugees you work with? In particular, I would be interested in connections you’ve made and things you’ve learned from the people you work with.
My friend, Alissa Berger, and I started the Westfield Fun Club (WFC) in 2016 in response to the growing Syrian refugee crisis. I don’t think either of us ever expected to still be working with refugees in 2022—and that is, in part, due to our own ignorance about the magnitude of the needs of families fleeing war and persecution around the world. Each day, we continue to learn more about what these families have endured—and there are countless stories about hardship and perseverance that will stay with me. The children’s stories are the most powerful. I live in a town where kids can walk to school and play ball in the street and chase fireflies at night. They get to take tennis lessons and dance classes and baseball clinics, and they complain about school and homework and chores. And then I hear about my refugee kids who had to race down to the basement to escape bombs, and had to hide on a bus because someone “bad” was looking for him in retaliation for his father working with the US government, and had to leave behind prized possessions and leave their homes and their friends for a chance at a better life.
But perhaps my greatest joy has been when we received a picture of one of our moms—she was standing by an American flag and she was holding her new citizenship papers. She had just been sworn in as a new American citizen and we were one of the first people she wanted to tell. That one picture will always remind me of our mission at the WFC—to help our families help themselves create a foundation for success. We may have helped her along the way, but she did this herself. And she illustrates what our country means.
Did you feel nervous or worried when you started, or were you eager and excited? And did your experiences match your expectations?
When Alissa first approached me and asked if I wanted to be involved in a new refugee program at our temple, I was a little hesitant. I knew nothing about working with refugees and very little about their experiences, about the civil war in Syria, or what they needed. But I was also excited. I have always tried to live by the idea of welcoming the stranger to our land. I grew up hearing the stories about how my mom’s parents arrived in America. They, too, had to leave their homes to escape persecution. I have always hoped that when they got here, there was someone who helped them. I wanted to try and make sure that our new families felt supported and welcome.
We started with the idea of offering ESL for the adults, homework help for the kids, and arts and crafts. The first week we had about five families. Quickly, though, it grew and we added more activities, and more families joined. We never expected the WFC to become what it is now. Right before the pandemic, we held almost weekly sessions and had upwards of fifty men, women, and children attending, and we were offering—in addition to the ESL, homework help, and arts and crafts—music, drama, dance, karate, a book club, citizenship prep, SAT prep, resume building, driving lessons, and more. We had dozens of volunteers helping. It was an incredible feeling to walk down the hall and to hear the laughter and to see the joy, and to know that in some small way, we were helping.
When the pandemic hit, we had to shut down the in-person classes, and we pivoted to assisting with issues of food insecurity. It was another much-needed educational moment for me. I knew people suffered from food insecurity, but in my little corner of the world, I didn’t realize what that actually meant. Many of our men lost their jobs and without any income had no way to feed their families. We quickly realized we needed to help. We began delivering weekly food packages to roughly 25 families. By the height of the pandemic, we were delivering to over 125 families. Even more than the fact we were able to help others, what was most impactful was how our community stepped up and helped. No matter how often we asked for donations or assistance, we got what we needed and so much more. This is something that will stay with me. This generosity was repeated when we began working with newly arriving refugees from Afghanistan. The outpouring of support was incredible and overwhelming.
What should people know about working with refugees that might not be obvious from the way refugees are covered in the news media?
We try not to talk politics. Alissa and I believe that the WFC is grounded in human decency—people helping people—and we never want it to be clouded by politics. But, we do also acknowledge that there was a period of time when refugees were not welcome in the US, and many people have demonized refugees. More than anything, I wish that those who do disparage refugees would take the time to sit down and speak with them. So much of what people say and believe is simple ignorance and fear—and we would be lying if there weren’t times we all struggled with the idea that someone from a far-off country is coming here to hurt us. But once you listen—truly listen—to their stories and not just watch a snippet on the news, you will realize that these are real people—moms and dads who want nothing more than for their children to be safe. This has nothing to do with politics and it saddens me when these families are used as pawns. We have seen firsthand how hard they work to establish a life here. They learn English, they support their children in school, they get jobs, they learn to drive, they give back to others. They are no different from the rest of us.
Thank you so much for allowing me to share your story, and for all you do, Jenny.
A Final Word
I’m reading a terrific book right now, The Power of Strangers: The Benefits of Connecting in a Suspicious World, by Joe Keohane. I’ll let him share a bit of inspiration to close this essay:
When strangers pour in, it can cause us to lose our bearings. We define ourselves in the context of our world. When the world changes, it puts our understanding of ourselves under stress and it upsets our relationship with the world we live in. When that happens, we have two options: Try to restore the past, which never works, or figure out a new way to belong.
What do you think, readers? Have you found “a new way to belong” in our changing world? Do you have experience with refugees? Please share your thoughts in the comments!
The Tidbit
Did you know that the “Carol of the Bells,” familiar to most Americans—especially to anyone who has ever sung in a choir—is a Ukrainian song? What other gifts will Ukrainian refugees bring to our country?
The Syrian families have been moved into permanent housing. I suspect that the Swiss authorities are preparing the housing for refugees from Ukraine right now.
Can you tell that I’m not a fan of lutefisk?
The total number of people living in Switzerland is about 8.7 million; almost a quarter of the people living here are refugees, immigrants, or expats.
Here’s the arithmetic: The US population is about 334 million, of which about 93 percent are citizens. So the US has approximately 311 million citizens, compared to 6.4 million Swiss citizens. In other words, the US has almost 50 times (48.6) the number of citizens as Switzerland. 48.6 x 116,000 is 5,636,875. Note that tiny Switzerland admits almost ten times as many refugees in absolute numbers as we do.
At this point in any conversation in which I praise Switzerland, someone will mention that Swiss banks have a shameful record of sheltering money for oligarchs and tyrants. And this is indeed true. However, the banking sector accounts for only 10 percent of the Swiss economy; tourism, tech, pharmaceuticals, and the many NGOs headquartered here contribute much more significantly to the Swiss economy than banking does.
In the US, the banking sector accounts for nearly as high a percentage of our economy, 7.4 percent, and, as recent events have made clear, banks in the US, as well as the real-estate market, are also guilty of helping global bad guys like Russian oligarchs to launder their money.
When I lived in Chicago, which is notorious for its “machine politics,” the Tribune columnist Mike Royko made fun of what Minnesotans consider to be “corruption.” A local politician provided free Twinkies and Kool-Aid to seniors at an information session. This turned into a huge scandal and ended his career. Free Twinkies and Kool-Aid was felt to be totally beyond the pale in Minnesota, while Chicago politicians have not always been so punctilious about ethical matters, to say the least.
Firstly I want to say “wow” about your friend, Jenny and her wonderful organization. She sounds like a wonderful person doing much needed work! I do not work with refugees, but I do run a food pantry on my university campus and the majority of my clients are our international students. They particularly suffered during the height of the pandemic. Forced to stay in the US as all borders and flights were stopped and yet not on campus where they could get meals they rapidly ran out of money to buy food. My Vice President personally shopped and delivered food to them! When my friend and I started our food pantry we stocked it with Mac and ch see and pasta/sauce. Those items remained in the shelves and we quickly pivoted to rice, beans and ethnic foods.
My comment to your point on the enrichment of other cultures is a musical reference.
Yesterday in choir I was singing a piece I did not know well, the girl next to me who had been singing alto like me suddenly switched to tenor for this song…..I was momentarily thrown off my line. I had to concentrate on my own notes and when we performed managed to do just that. As a result the piece was rich and whole. A soprano melody is beautiful but add in the solidity of the bass line and the harmonies of the tenors and altos and you gain so much more while still hearing that melody. I look at the integration of other cultures in the same way. Not to mention that the US has been a melting pot for so many generations that what Americans think of as their culture probably started elsewhere!
I like this defense of taking in refugees. My own personality seems to be naturally curious about things and people I don't understand. It would be great if as a country we could cultivate an attitude of curiosity about refugees rather than suspicion.