AnonymousDeleted UserDecember 9, 2020 at 4:00 pm
I really liked how Mihee Kim-Kort wrote about being a neighbor as being “deeply and radically embodied; it’s skin and bones, flesh and blood,” and how this kind of love bring us to where “we do not see anyone as a stranger or foreigner or outsider or enemy; every human being shares our humanity. Every human being is our neighbor.” For me, thinking about embodied presence as an essential act of love is moving in a time when physical proximity to other people is difficult to access. A friend of mine, who is Korean-American, was telling me the other day about how every time she sees a Korean person on the street she automatically assumes they have friends in common or are somehow related. There’s an assumption of family. After she began attending a historically Black church and calling everyone in the congregation auntie, uncle, brother, and sister, she realized that she began having the same experience of familial recognition whenever she saw a Black person on the street. Being in proximity to new community of people expanded the categories of neighbor and family for her.
The difficult question I have to ask myself is if there are communities around me who inhabit the same streets as me, but whom I have rejected as a neighbor? Who do I withhold hospitality and solidarity from?