Lessons from a Cabbie

I always enjoy talking to my cab driver.  I always have.  Sometimes, you get one that's sort of grouchy and doesn't really want anything to do with you.  But other times, you get one with a great story.  That's exactly what happened to me recently in San Antonio.

I hopped in a cab with a driver to asked what I was in town for and how long I'd be there.  In our conversation, I learned that he had come to the US from Africa. Ethiopia, to be specific.  This got us started on how difficult it is to come to America from another country.

He told me that he had some three years ago as a refugee.  After complete political upheaval in his own country--after living in a tent in a refugee camp for five years (FIVE YEARS), he began the refugee paperwork and was given a ticket to America.  He had no say about where he went, the government settled him in Pennsylvania.  He knew no one, but he was out of the refugee camp and happy to be in America.

He saved enough money to move to San Antonio, where he had other refugee friends, and now works two jobs to support himself.  He loves it here, says America is a great country, and he is happy to be here.

We talked about family and raising babies in Africa and he politely looked at a photo of BB, proclaiming he was a very happy baby who looks like his mama.  And when he dropped me at my hotel, I gave him a large tip and a hug.  In that 15 minute cab ride, I learned a couple of things.

First, we take living in America for granted.  During our chat, he told me that when refugees first arrive in the States, they are very grateful and appreciative for everything.  But after a year or two, you start to see them complain.  Traffic, bills, annoying people.  We all complain about these kind of things, yet we forget that across the world, there are people living in tents, fleeing from unimaginable violence, wondering if and when their next meal will come.  Sure, this country of ours has problems.  Violence. Pollution.  Political division. But we have a lot of good as well.  Freedom.  Rights.  Ability to chase our dreams.  I'm vowing to really focus on what is good, on what is right, and on how blessed I am to live and be raising our child in the greatest country on earth.

Second, the driver said, "Oh, I came here as a refugee.  You know, America always helps refugees who are in trouble."  I couldn't help but cringe.  Yes, over the years America has always helped refugees.  "Give us your tired, your poor, your huddles masses yearning to breathe free."  But I can't help but think how some have reacted to the Syrian refugee crisis recently.  We espouse hatred.  We want to lock the doors.  We want to turn a blind eye and pretend the situation is not happening, or that we are somehow allowed to ignore whatever happens "over there."  As I've written before, we have failed to remember the real issue here is people, not policies.

I understand there are not easy answers.  I know that we must keep our nation safe.  I am sure there are hidden terrorists in the refugee population.  But I also fully believe there are good people--families, mothers, babies, Christians--in those refugee camps.  Certainly I believe they need to be vetted.  We need to ensure that we do not allow terrorists to infiltrate through our refugee population.  And I know we have no legal obligation to take these people into our midst.  But I sincerely hope we do not lose the reputation of being a country that always helps refugees in trouble.

And, so, today, I am grateful for the lessons from a cabbie.  I am thankful for the reminder that we are blessed to live in the United States.  That we are fortunate, despite this nation's problems, to live here and now.  I am grateful for the reminder that refugees are real people--ones who need our help and our prayers.  I am thankful for the chance to visit for a couple of minutes with a cab driver in San Antonio, who did much more for me than get me safely from the airport to the hotel.