I began my career in education teaching English as a second language to students who had just immigrated to the United States. Many came from war-torn or cartel-controlled countries. Others had spent years in refugee camps before gaining asylum in the U.S. A young boy’s father had lost an arm to a machete and another young man his mother to the cartels.
Counterintuitively, almost every single one of them spoke of their home country with reverence. They had every reason to hate the corruption and violence whence they came. Nevertheless, they spoke longingly of the vistas, food, music, and what their nations could and should be. They longed to return.






Comments