This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2015, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

When we reduce a human being to a number to be debated upon, we have made the subject an object. Refugees are not objects. An object is not capable of teaching me what it means to be human.

That is what my refugee family has taught me. My family was in a camp for almost two decades. The parents met in the camp, and the children grew up their whole lives in the camp. They placed all their trust in me and others when they came here. On her second day here, the mother gave me one of the three shirts she had, sewn from the thinnest fabric.

However, what she really gave me that day was love, trust, and friendship that I have hardly seen anywhere else. My family works hard, diligently learns English, and has never asked for anything. They get government financial assistance for one more month, but it's barely enough to feed the family of five.

They started laughing and smiling, having pride, a few weeks ago. They are currently sounding out the primary colors.

These people are our friends. Our ancestors. Our neighbors.

Let them be safe and welcomed.

Ashley Jolin

Midvale