Conversations about immigration, especially on social media, reveal hard lines in the sand, a closed binary line of thinking, along with disgust, anger and outrage.
Bring up immigration at the family Thanksgiving gathering, and the turkey may burn in the cooker and a family feud may start.
The major impediment to this sort of civil dialogue is our language — the way we talk about immigrants.
What if our approach to immigration wasn’t in political terms like “illegal,” “deportation” and “ICE”? There is a better way to have this conversation, if we can get past the labels partisans have placed on real people.
The current dialogue treats immigrants as enemies invading our nation. Our president, without ceasing, labels immigrants as criminals, rapists, murderers and scum. The resulting fear and anger produced by such dehumanizing rhetoric makes progress on a workable immigration policy almost impossible.
“The current dialogue treats immigrants as enemies invading our nation.”
Changing the metaphor that defines how Americans relate to immigrants will enable us to make a democratic turn toward common ground. Our task is to discover which metaphor might do the job.
Think of how different life is for the person who sees “life as war” and the person who sees “life as dance.”
Metaphor is the rhetorical device for seeing immigrants in a different light, a vehicle for swapping overly narrow and rigid representations and stereotypes so adversaries become conversation partners.
Following George Lakoff’s observation that new language is required to activate new frames of public understanding, I suggest adopting the alternative metaphor of immigration as food. As Jesus insists, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work.”
As people of faith, we are fortunate to have centuries of teaching about the efficacy of food. People gathered around food have a chance to alleviate even hard differences. This represents an ancient religious understanding.
When Abram is visited by three strangers, he hastens into the tent to Sarah to ask her to prepare a meal for his guests and then stands by them under the tree while they eat.
From Passover to the sacrament of Holy Communion, we are a people of feasts, abundance and food.
Anglican priest Sam Wells reminds us it is in the Eucharist that we learn God has given us everything we need. The Eucharist is not only the proclamation of abundance, but also the enactment of abundance.
“It is in the Eucharist that we learn God has given us everything we need.”
Stanley Hauerwas says: “In the Eucharist we discover that we cannot use Christ up. In the Eucharist we discover that the more the body and blood of Christ are shared, the more there is to be shared. The Eucharist, therefore, is the way the church learns to understand why generosity rather than greed must and can shape our economic relations.”
Jesus says, “Many will come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 8:10). Ancient bitter enemies will feast at the table of Jesus.
The abundance of the feast of Jesus is far more than a zero-sum vision of there not being enough for everyone. The religious understanding of the essential nature of food opens the door to our proposed new metaphor of seeing immigrants in terms of the amazing variety of cuisines they bring to America.
Our current language about immigration induces fear and rage. People make emotional decisions on the basis of misinformation as far-fetched as immigrants eating the cats and dogs of Springfield, Ohio. Such rhetoric may be depicted as political junk food. The knowledge that junk food is bad for our health doesn’t stop us from consuming vast quantities of it.
Depicting immigrants as hordes of criminals is not conducive to rational debate about immigration. Instead, it induces anxiety, fear and racism. The political junk food metaphor’s key words are “enemy,” “rapist,” “murderer,” “scum.”
By designating all immigrants as criminals, for example, Trump adopted a nativist and xenophobic stance; ICE agents were militarized as soldiers to get the criminals off the streets, the public’s role was reduced to desire to deport all immigrants and getting rid of immigrants meant making America safe again. At times, Trump mixes immigrants with terrorists. He links the military, the police, ICE agents and border patrol into a single motif of personal safety and homeland security achieved by deporting immigrants.
“Both sides know our immigration rhetoric is junk food, but we keep dispensing it in large, obnoxious quantities.”
Both sides know our immigration rhetoric is junk food, but we keep dispensing it in large, obnoxious quantities to the point of addiction.
Now switch the metaphor from the criminal immigrant to cuisine.
In our food metaphor, immigrants are at the heart of our nation and not excess baggage to be deported. Take delight in the cuisines available in our nation rather than being disgusted by the political propaganda about immigrants.
There’s a new cookbook informing my claim about immigrants and food. Padma’s All American, written by Padma Lakshmi, argues immigrants are the beating heart of America. Lakshmi says, “If we just ate what was native to the United States, we’d be living on desert packrat and ramps. I’ve eaten those things, and they’re delicious, but we wouldn’t last 15 minutes if that was our only option. Even apple pie isn’t American: not the crust, not the filling, not the spices. American food has always stretched to make room for new foods, and we have to hold onto that.”
Padama’s All American features third-culture food, the result of the meeting of Indian and American, or Chinese and Nigerian, in a new place. For instance, she suggests “the Nigerian jollof rice made by my friend Precious — they grew up in Ohio and put dashi and sun-dried tomatoes in. It increases the umami! It’s delicious!’
The fascinating aspect of the cookbook is its political nature. Politics are not a usual fare in American cookbooks. Lakshmi explains: “My publishers didn’t want me to be so political, but that ship has sailed. It goes with having the title of Padma’s All American. Because I am American. I can’t believe that’s become a political statement, but I am. I love this country for what it gave me and my mom. But if you take away the immigrants, the country — the food system, the tech arena, Wall Street and medicine — it will all come to a standstill.”
Applying the abundant feast of Jesus and Padama’s All American to immigrants, we envision a win-win for everyone as diverse cultural delicacies add to the richness of the population. It would be better for the public at large if we all bring what we have (a boy’s lunch of fish and chips), put it in hands of Jesus and witness multiplication to the benefit for all.
“Immigration is food” provides a different vocabulary for our political debates about how immigrants are treated. Words like “abundant,” “nourishing,” “delight” and “healthy” enable us to resist demonizing our opponents.
A new democratic conversation may begin with delight rather than deportation.
The vision of Jesus gathering people from all the nations to feast together at the table trumps the negative image of separation and arrogant nativism.
Rodney Kennedy
Rodney W. Kennedy is a pastor and writer in New York state. He is the author of 11 books, including his latest, Dancing with Metaphors in the Pulpit.