Resort
Aren't we all from somewhere else? At some point in our family lineage, someone has crossed a border. Escape, expulsion, exile, exodus, and emigration, are integral to human history. Today, there are over 65 million refugees, asylum-seekers, and internally displaced people around the world, according to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. One in every 113 people on our planet has now been driven from their homes by persecution, conflict, violence, or human rights violations. Our economic and foreign policies, interventions, and invasions bear much responsibility. Driven or displaced, cut loose or set adrift, or simply seeking safety are precarious states of passage. The decision to leave home may be voluntary or involuntary, arising from desperation or anticipation. RESORT, as a title, reflects that duality. To flee is a last resort. The destination is often another shore, literally or figuratively. The shore can also be a place for a benign escape—an actual vacation resort. Some vacationers in Spain and Greece have actually watched refugees wash ashore from vessels both intact and capsized. RESORT explores the intersection of these two worlds—security and insecurity. Those of us who do not need to flee live in comparative luxury. Yet many Americans choose to feel invaded, believing our jobs are threatened, or our culture is diluted or even contaminated. In 2013, the USA led in absolute numbers of resettled refugees. Not so today. With far fewer resources, Turkey and Pakistan now lead in hosting the most refugees, over half of whom come from Sudan, Afghanistan, and Syria. Yet, in this country, Germany's recent reception of over one million refugees has occupied the media spotlight. Over 2015 and 2016, according to the World Bank, Germany averaged twice the number of refugees that the USA accepted, even though our population is four times greater. Our current President has scaled back refugee admissions even further. In 2018, the USA will admit no more than 45,000 refugees. We need to decide who we are and what role we will play in the future of displaced people? Will we choose humanity over nationalism, generosity over selfishness? Being a refugee is not a choice. Those who are settled may never know the anxiety, risk, or terror of those uprooted, the profound loss of what is left behind, and the daunting uncertainties ahead. Through these works, we hope to induce an empathic unsettlement that might lead us to reconsider our responsibility and culpability for and reception of immigrants and refugees. But empathy is no substitute for accountability.