Written by Jordan Miller
As a health care worker, I’ve learned to recognize the look of a worried parent: wide-eyed, restless, and tense. Every parent fears having their child become sick or injured. Yet, as life happens, the majority of parents will find themselves in a doctor’s office or emergency department with their child.
While the experience will undoubtedly feel overwhelming to navigate, many parents will have prior experiences to draw from as a guide. At some point, they have been a patient, visited a hospital, and talked with health care professionals. But what about refugee and immigrant families who have familiarity with their health care system, but minimal or no exposure to the American one? How much more overwhelming is a simple sick visit when you’re also learning English? What level of anxiety is experienced by these parents as they maneuver an unfamiliar health care system in a new language, all while concerned for their child?
It’s with all this in mind that our Language in Action participants, primarily composed of Congolese refugees, recently participated in a seminar on visiting the hospital. These topical seminars aim to empower them with practical knowledge and skills to navigate this new world with confidence and skill. As we’re heading into what is typically called “sick season,” we wanted to equip them (many of whom are parents) with education to help them better access healthcare, particularly in an emergency setting.
Drawing from our knowledge of East African culture, we helped compare and contrast the health care systems and their professionals in both cultures. In East Africa, it is mainly unacceptable to ask questions or make requests of healthcare providers. In contrast, we want to encourage questions from patients and parents so that individuals can participate in their own healing. Before this seminar, I asked many nurses, doctors, and administrators I work with what they wanted immigrant and refugee families to know. The majority response was that we want and need them to voice their concerns and ask questions freely. Health care professionals know a lot, but no one knows a child better than their parents! The ability to ask questions may seem unremarkable to those who grew up in America. Still, it’s an opportunity that greatly excited the seminar attendees.
Everyone there was encouraged to reflect on and ask questions from their personal experiences thus far with American healthcare. Within the safety and security of their community, they could share and voice concerns without fear of judgment. While there were practical questions to answer, I was humbled by the piercing insight and critiques our friends had on the American healthcare system.
“Can you tell me why American healthcare is so expensive?” asked one person.
Another father asked, “Please, why do you give insurance (referring to Medicaid) to women and children but not to me?”
I hear and share their concerns. How in America, supposedly the world’s greatest nation, can a father work tirelessly through the night to support his family, but he not be afforded the human right to health care?
I had to apologize on behalf of our nation with tears in my eyes--on behalf of those in power who choose to turn an eye to the alien's plight. I told them I also did not understand.
Throughout God’s Word, we are instructed to love the strangers in our lands, to welcome the foreigner and alien (Deut. 10:19). These are not just supposed to be pretty words we speak. Instead, they are to move us to make very real considerations for the immigrants and refugees living in our neighborhoods who find themselves in a new and foreign land. Wherever you work, shop and play, as you come into contact with these precious people, I encourage you to put yourselves in their shoes. Consider all the extra challenges they face. Give the extra effort to make a place for them. God promises that for such effort, you yourself will be blessed.
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