photo by me

This weekend I watched the movie, Beyond Borders. It is the story of a woman who finds herself becoming an activist within the UN for the plight of refugees around the world. It is a haunting movie.

It made me think about being the labels we put on people and how this affects our perception of our own (and others’) identity.

Throughout Africa there are refugee camps to house the people who are escaping from oppressive (and killing) governments. There are the “Lost Boys” of Sudan who will walk hundreds of miles and for many days to escape persecution.

The news media began calling Hurricane Katrina evacuees “refugees” when they were housed in camps in Houston and elsewhere.

But I wonder about these labels. What does it do to a person to be called a “refugee?” How does that affect the way that those people see the world and how they see themselves?

I wonder about American “refugees.” Do they get some sense of entitlement from having that kind of status? (I don’t think this would apply to the African “refugees” because I think they are just trying to survive, find a bite to eat, not die from malaria, etc.) Do the American refugees feel like they are owed something for the devastation they’ve gone through and, if so, what? Or are they just exhausted and hurt and scared?

We label things wantonly. We label them so that we can get a picture in our mind of what is happening. We label so we can compartmentalize. We label so that we can say “us” and “them.”

But what does it all mean?

And who’s to say that tomorrow, you or I won’t be labeled “refugee?”