Middle of Everywhere - Mary Bray Pipher [39]
As I read, Zena prepared our dining area. She lay a tablecloth on the floor and carried out cans of Coke and bags of generic chips. I hated to see her spend her hard-earned money on junk food, but refugees learn what to love and value in our country from advertisers. The best minds of our generation are writing ad copy. In America, it's a rule of thumb that what is least necessary is what is advertised most. Refugees often buy expensive junky toys before they buy toothbrushes, and sugary treats instead of fresh produce.
Clearly Zena had spent all day and most of her food budget fixing us a beautiful meal. She proudly carried in a plate piled high with homemade flatbread still warm from the griddle, a tray of roast chicken, and another with chopped tomatoes, cucumbers, and green peppers. We sat on the floor, passing dishes and eating with our fingers. I loved her Kurdish cooking but the children preferred the chips and Cokes.
As always, I was touched by Zena's kindness to me. She had so little and yet whatever she had was shared with grace. But I was also struck by the limited information the family was receiving about our culture. They had come from a rural area and had never had consumer goods. Now they had no antidotes to our consumer society. They bought some of the worst junk America has to offer—cigarettes and soda pop, violent video games and cartoons, and easily broken "action figures."
Television tells newcomers lies—that most Americans are rich, that most African Americans are gang members and drug dealers, and that happiness comes from buying consumer goods and unhealthy foods. There are no ads for the joys of quiet time, gardening, looking at sunsets, visiting with neighbors, or reading to children.
- All refugee families are given televisions and encouraged to "improve their English." But television doesn't improve English so much as foster shopping. In most refugee homes, televisions are always on and become virtual primers of acculturation. Families learn about America from the Jerry Springer Show and the Simpsons. They observe a monoculture with only three elements—sex, violence, and consumption.
Of course, Americans are much more complex and interesting than our media suggests, and we are not as violent or obsessed with sex, money, and power. I wanted to tell Zena, "Most of us lead quiet lives, and not necessarily of desperation. We spend much more of our time planting flowers then we do robbing banks, more time calling our mothers than we do having sex."
Over and over I have noticed a certain innocence in refugee families who have not lived in a world of media—their children are quieter and more respectful; everyone is less cynical and more content; hedonism is tempered with a strong sense of social responsibility; and people take pleasure in small, quiet events. It is an innocence that rapidly fades.
Refugees often come from places where money isn't very important. Trade is by the barter system and food is caught or grown. Clothes are made at home and entertainment is other people in the village. Travel is walking or boating. Healers work for a good meal. Some refugees come from Soviet bloc countries where everything is paid for. A Russian woman told me, "In my country everything was free unless otherwise specified. In the United States everything costs money unless it's specified free."
After dinner, Noora went back to The Wizard of Oz. The boys ran out into the parking lot to play soccer. Zena worried about them outdoors in such a bad neighborhood, but they couldn't be indoors all the time. However, she wouldn't let Noora outside at all.
She asked me about a letter offering her a MasterCard. She didn't really understand what that was and asked, "Can I buy whatever I want with this free card?" I explained interest and service charges and advised her to tear it up. This time she would, but would she tear up the Discover card application she receives next week?
When we give refugees charge cards long before we give them green cards, we set them up to be debtors. Newcomers