Op-Ed: It’s ‘Time to Show Who We Are, as Residents of a Diverse, Welcoming State,’ so ‘Light Up the Night for IRIS’ … and for CT

Editor’s Note: This op-ed was submitted by the Rev. Steven R. Jungkeit, Ph.D., who serves as Senior Minister at the First Congregational Church of Old Lyme. All are welcome to attend the vigil tomorrow evening. The First Congregational Church of Old Lyme is located at 2 Ferry Rd., Old Lyme, CT 06371.

In the congregation I serve (The First Congregational Church of Old Lyme), I’ve been sharing since the November election that we are in a position similar to that of the biblical character Miriam in the second chapter of Exodus.  Faced with a terrible catastrophe (a threat against all Hebrew male children, including her baby brother, soon to be named Moses), Miriam “watches from a distance” as a small basket carrying her brother bobs up and down along the Nile River.  Since November, we too have been forced to watch and to wait in the bulrushes with Miriam, as if from a distance, using the time to gain perspective and to gather our wits as the current of history swirls around us.  In the Exodus story, Miriam watched and waited for the opportune moment to act, and when it arrived, she seized it.

People of faith and conscience will need to be continually vigilant in this new political environment.  We’ll need to seize opportune moments whenever we can to stand with the most vulnerable around us.  

Now is the first of those moments.  Now is the time to emerge from the bulrushes, as Miriam eventually did.

In these early days of the new administration, federal funding for a host of worthy agencies has been suspended, eliminated, and then, (maybe?) partially reinstated.  Few who depend upon that funding believe that the threat has gone away.  Meanwhile, livelihoods and support services throughout the country hang in the balance.

Among the many worthy agencies affected across Connecticut, IRIS (Integrated Refugee and Immigration Services) in New Haven has experienced tremendous whiplash.  Depending on which order is being considered, and when, it appears that IRIS stands to lose millions of dollars in funding, preventing them not only from helping to resettle refugees, but also hindering their ability to assist people in need all across the state.  Losing that funding would place thousands of people in jeopardy.

The First Congregational Church of Old Lyme, together with two other churches in town (St. Ann’s and Christ the King) as well as many other residents of no particular faith, have partnered with IRIS for the past decade, ever since the beginning of the Syrian refugee crisis in 2015.  Indeed, our community was the first in the state to reach out to IRIS during that crisis, though many others soon did the same.  Before long, a Syrian family arrived in Old Lyme and has remained here ever since, just the way Syrians arrived in communities all across Connecticut.  Since that time, we have helped resettle five additional families in our area from many different parts of the world, a pattern that has unfolded all up and down the Connecticut Shoreline, and throughout the entirety of the state.

IRIS is one of the crown jewels of Connecticut, helping to make us the welcoming, hospitable, and culturally rich state that we are.  Our communities have been improved by welcoming refugees, and supporting immigrants, which IRIS has facilitated.

If this is an opening salvo from a hostile new administration, then the time is right for Connecticut residents who continue to believe in the sanctity of hospitality to come together, and to push back the night.  

With that in mind, the First Congregational Church of Old Lyme invites friends and supporters of IRIS to join us for a candlelight vigil on Wednesday evening, February 5th, at 6:00 PM.  We’ll sing, we’ll offer words of prayer, and we’ll light up the night.  But we also have a goal: to raise $100,000 as a gesture of goodwill and support for IRIS.  That won’t be enough.  But if similar events took place around the state, it would go a long way.

IRIS has given our communities so much.  They have offered support and protection to so many, and they have enriched our lives for the relationships they helped to create.  It’s time to give a little back.

But more to the point, it’s now time, like Miriam, to emerge from the bulrushes, and to push back against the Pharaohs that continue to afflict the vulnerable.

It’s time to show who we are as residents of a diverse and welcoming state, one that we can all be proud to live in.   

Op-Ed: Take Time to Listen, Tell, Learn, ‘a Better Story About Haiti’

Editor’s Note: We received this op-ed from Rev. Steve Jungkeit, who serves as the Senior Minister of The First Congregational Church of Old Lyme (FCCOL.) 

In the winter of 2020, just before Covid stopped the world, I sat with a friend on a hillside overlooking Deschapelles, Haiti on a clear starry night.  There were scarcely any lights to be seen, for few people in that remote valley have electricity.  But the world around us was alive with sounds.  From numerous directions, we heard the sounds of Vodou drumming, as people conducted nighttime ceremonies.

From other locations, we could hear the sounds of church services, with people singing hymns and worship songs. Occasionally the sound of conversation could be heard interspersed with the music, and sometimes laughter. The night was alive with a kind of sensual wonder, and even though vast poverty surrounded us, I couldn’t help but marvel at the richness of Haitian culture, and the gifts it has offered the world.

If only more people in the United States understood the beauty and vitality of Haitian culture. The racist and xenophobic lies of Donald Trump and JD Vance have cruelly stigmatized Haitians in Springfield, Ohio, demonizing them simply for being there. It’s an ugly behavior with a long history from all sides of the political spectrum in the U.S.  Such remarks render even more precarious a population that has already suffered, and survived, much.  For the sake of Haiti and Haitians, it’s time to tell – and to learn – a different story.

There are, of course, Springfields all across the United States, where significant populations of Haitians live.  But that’s especially true in Connecticut.  In the southeastern corner of the state where I live, Norwich and New London have thriving Haitian communities.  But the same is true of Hartford, New Haven, Bridgeport, Waterbury, and countless other cities throughout our state.  Haitians are our neighbors, and they make the places that we live better and more vibrant for their very presence.

Now is the time to reach out to those communities.  Now is the time to say that we’re glad that you’re here.  Now is the time to offer our support in any way we can, as threats, rumors of violence, and slander directed toward Haitians have increased.  Now is the time to thank our Haitian neighbors, for enduring so much, and for making our world, and our state, a more vibrant place.

But now is also the time to educate ourselves, and to celebrate the gifts of Haitian history and culture.  We can do that by reading the monumental histories of the Haitian Revolution written by C.L.R. James (“The Black Jacobins”) or Laurent Dubois (“Avengers of the New World”).  We can do that by queuing up exemplary music on our streaming accounts from Haiti and its diaspora (RAM, Boukman Eksperyans, Leyla McCalla, Lakou Mizik, or countless others).  We can do that by understanding better the complex genius of Haitian Vodou (start by reading “The Sacred Arts of Haitian Vodou”, but continue on to works such as Nan Domi, by Mimerose Beaubrun or “Tell My Horse”, by Zora Neal Hurston). 

We can study the beauty of Haitian art, and appreciate the literature that has emerged from Haiti (start with the exquisite writings of Edwidge Danticat, but try others as well, like Jacques Roumain and René Depestre).  Don’t forget the searing and profound films of Raoul Peck (Exterminate All the Brutes, for example) one of the most innovative filmmakers on the planet today. 

And let us not forget to eat.  You haven’t lived until you’ve tried piklis, a spicy Haitian vegetable mixture that will elevate your consciousness.  You can find it in Norwich, at Mommy’s Delicious Food, or in Bridgeport, at Manje Lakay.

Above all, though, let us not forget the people, or neglect their stories.  Let us not ignore the many gifts they have given to Connecticut, to the United States, and to the world itself.

I can’t reproduce that night in Deschapelles, but in a way Connecticut is a lot like that hillside: if you know how to listen (and see, taste, touch, and smell), the gifts of Haitian culture are all around us.

Now is the time to listen well, that we might come to tell, and to learn, a better story about Haiti.

Editor’s Note: The Crosby Fund for Haitian Education, one of the ministries of FCCOL helps Haitian young people receive an education, which is neither free in Haiti nor an expense that most Haitians can afford.