My family and I were eased into our first sponsorship gently with the arrival of two adult Kurdish brothers from Iran. Our second sponsorship—a Somali Bantu single mom raising four children—presented much greater challenges. Though the pace had slowed and the resettlement process showed clear signs of success, we found ourselves three years later still “on call” to help our new friends. But with many more refugees arriving than were sponsors to be found, our third “newcomer nudge” arrived from Lutheran Social Services (LSS).
Our Karen Burmese family arrived on May 24, 2007. They were a family of six—mom, dad, grandma, and three adorable little ones, ages eight, six and three. Only the father spoke a little English. We met them at the Milwaukee airport late at night. Following a few initial uneasy moments, we piled into our van (recently embellished with three flea-market car seats) and drove to our home, where the family would spend one week before moving into their own apartment. It had been a long time since our sons’ upstairs bedrooms had seen such activity.
My husband slept soundly—but I lay awake for most of that first night, listening for signs of stirring, not quite sure what the morning would bring. I didn’t have long to wait, as our jet-laggers were up before dawn. For the rest of the week, our days began about 5 a.m. We never really knew if our early risers rose due to jet lag or routine, or simply an anxiousness to embark on their new life.
For our three children—pretty Paweh Nei Ser, arm-casted Eh Ku Soe (who just one week before leaving Tham Hin had fractured his arm), and cute Ehnay Blur Soe, affectionately dubbed Little Blue—there was wonderment with everything in cabinets and behind doors. We quickly learned insights regarding the children: light switches are fun. So is the telephone. Computers, televisions, and remote controls offer an enticing array of buttons. Turned stove knobs create dancing flames. And venetian blinds and garden hoses provide great doldrums diversion.
Our parents, too, See Nay and Eh Ree, found lots of newness in America. Crash-course instruction in the use of the refrigerator, stove, microwave, and dishwasher was followed by hands-on learning through experimentation. Eh Ree looked pleased when she saw familiar eggs in our refrigerator, and decided to make breakfast. She carefully chose three, turned her nose at butter opting instead for vegetable oil. With the frying pan on the burner, I left the kitchen. When I returned, three solid eggs were sizzling in oil. My husband had, unbeknownst to me, hard-boiled the eggs and neglected to mark them! Eh Ree must have wondered what kind of chickens call America their home. We dumped the lot and began anew.
We encouraged See Nay, and he was game, to try things on his own. Sometimes the signs were subtle—like a flashing “error” display on the microwave. Other times they were more evident. After breakfast one morning, See Nay and Eh Ree put their own breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. See Nay, all on his own, started the machine as I had showed him just once the day before. We all went on an early morning walk (a favorite time for learning English and meeting neighbors) and my husband awoke to a kitchen floor of soapy bubbles. See Nay had filled the dishwasher with liquid “Dawn.” Our squeaky-clean kitchen floor gave rise to bonding laughter.
Soon the Nay family was able to move into their cozy new “church-furnished” apartment, comfortingly adjacent to family members who had arrived just months before. Mired in a muddle of protocol paperwork for agencies sporting acronyms like SSA, DMV, PHD, LSS, WCTC, and WFD, the first weeks were a bit of a challenge with lots of highs and lows for all who worked with our family—and the inevitable bureaucracy surrounding sponsorship. But with Food Share and Badger Care cards in hand, life took a turn for the better.
Two months later, our family is flourishing—in large part, I believe, because of the support of a caring congregation and the passion and compassion offered by a small but formidable sponsorship committee. Everyone on our committee brings something to it, and everyone’s gifts are blessings to our newcomers. Though far from over, the first barrage of medical appointments—and first set of emergency room stitches—is behind us.
Our parents and children excite their teachers in ESL classes with their enthusiasm and progress. The children begin school in the fall. A first job is secured. A bank account accepts deposits. An attractive garden flaunts its first ripe tomatoes. A sewing class is begun. Bike-riding skills (almost) perfected. A first parade. First fireworks. And a joyful sharing of faith in church as our family sings “Jesus Loves Me” in the Karen language with See Nay on guitar. Perhaps most uplifting is our family’s willingness to already “pay it forward” by taking under their wing new arrivals for whom no sponsors can be found.
Still, little occurrences remind us there is much to be learned. Eh Ree cracks an easy dimpled smile when, out the door on her way to the market, she suddenly realizes she has forgotten her shoes.
The life of a cosponsor is filled with exasperation and exhilaration. In moments of exasperation, I wonder: What did Pastor Schneider and the Lord get me into? In moments of exhilaration, I thank him and the Lord for opening my all-too-comfortable little world to encompass the worlds of so many remarkable newcomers. It has once again been a privilege to experience life uniquely through the eyes of newcomers. And I will be forever grateful for those taps on my shoulder.
Lutheran Social Services is expecting the arrival of more Burmese refugee families. To find out how you and/or your church can help them, please contact LSS at (414) 325-3063.
Photo gallery (click an image for larger size):