SunTimes OpEd: Dehumanizing anyone harms all

The Chicago area is under tremendous pressure. U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement arrests are increasing, and calls for the National Guard are amplifying people’s sense of fear and uncertainty.

Enveloping these actions is a familiar story: They’re not like us. They’re less than us. They’re dangerous.

I know this story personally. My grandparents fled Russia and Germany as refugees. Propaganda dehumanized them and turned their neighbors against them.

I know it as a historian. Today’s raids echo America’s anti-immigration legislation and mass deportations targeting Asians, Mexicans and reformers.

I know it as a mother, wondering what kind of country my children will inherit as descendants of immigrants.

And I know it as a humanist. There are many other stories we can, and must, tell, stories that center people’s lives, histories, cultures and contributions. The stories we tell shape us. They can divide us or connect us.

Immigrants built Illinois. After the Great Fire in 1871, 80% of Chicago’s residents were immigrants or their children. These people rebuilt our beloved parks, boulevards, schools and libraries; they wove the civic fabric that holds us together. Today, fear-focused narratives are working to shred that fabric.

Economic analyses make it clear that militarizing immigration undermines Illinois’ construction, agriculture, health care and hospitality industries. But economics can’t help us understand why the story we’re being told harms us all. Great American literature, like Toni Morrison’s “Beloved” or Countee Cullen’s poem “Incident,” shows us that dehumanizing anyone harms everyone. Meanwhile, organizations like the Chicago Cultural Alliance, Lumpen Radio, Shorefront Legacy Center, South Side Weekly and Cicero Independiente feature migration stories that remind us we are interconnected.

At Illinois Humanities’ 50th anniversary event, a high school poet was scheduled to read her award-winning piece, “If They Take Her.” ICE activity prevented her from attending. Instead, a staff member read her poem as a transcript was projected onscreen. The moment epitomized that empathy is the counterbalance to fear.

It can feel radical to meet others with curiosity, or to be willing to cede any ground to find the threads that connect us. The humanities remind us that seeing each other as human beings may be the most radical — yet necessary — act of all.

We are being told we are the simplest, most reduced version of ourselves. We can counter the story that they (whoever “they” are) aren’t like us. Illinois knows better.  We are all, together, so much more.

Gabrielle H. Lyon, Executive Director, Illinois Humanities