Who Are the "Best and the Brightest"?

Most of you never met my maternal grandfather. His Yiddish name was Shmu'el Feivel (which became Samuel Philip) and according to his immigration documents, he arrived in the United States from Lithuania in 1910.  Back then, European Jews were being persecuted or treated harshly, and their economic opportunities were limited. And so, like many immigrants from many countries, he decided to seek a better life in America.

My grandfather was a tailor. He came here speaking perhaps two words of English, and while he was a quick learner, till the day he died, he spoke it with a heavy accent. He never got rich, he never became famous, but he adapted well to his new country; he got married, had three kids (one of whom was my mother), and was probably pleased that in America, he was no longer treated like he had been in the old country.

But I wonder if he would even be admitted today, given our president saying we need to move to a "merit-based" system of immigration.  Did my grandfather have sufficient merit?  After all, he was not very educated, didn't speak English, and had very little money. Further, he did not know any people in the US who could vouch for the fact that he would work hard and cause no problem to anyone.  He believed, as many immigrants did back then, that America was a nation of immigrants, and he believed that if given a chance, he could make a good life here, for himself and the family he hoped to have.

Beyond the debate over what to do about "the border," and how undocumented immigrants should be treated, there is another story that is getting far less coverage. Mr. Trump wants to restrict legal immigration. He wants to change the policy so that America will only admit the "best and the brightest." The policy he has proposed would cut legal immigration nearly in half, something we have not seen in decades. Currently, the number of immigrants being given visas has dropped by about 12% during his first two years in office; but he wants it to drop even more. He has stated that his ultimate goal is to “curb the flow of low-skilled workers into the United States.”

By those standards, I would not be writing this blog post today, since my grandfather, a "low-skilled worker," would not have been allowed to move here, and my mother would never have been born here either. I find it troubling that the country that once gave unskilled workers from other countries a chance to contribute to the US economy (which, by the way, is still desperate for immigrant labor: many industries are eager to hire them) now suddenly says only geniuses with PhDs need apply.

I hope the president will rethink his position. Today's low-skilled worker may have a family that includes high-achieving kids; or that worker may get the chance to go to school and acquire the skills he or she did not have before.  It's hard to predict how things will turn out, of course. But this much I know: the vast majority of the folks who have come here have been an asset, not a liability. It would be a shame if people who are seeking a better life, like my grandfather did, will now be told they should not seek it here. 

Moving Beyond the Stereotypes

When I was in high school, we studied some of Shakespeare's plays. The one that had the greatest impact on me (and not in a good way) was "The Merchant of Venice." Some of you may remember it. The central character, and villain, is the moneylender, Shylock the Jew.  And while there are a couple of verses where Shakespeare does try to humanize him, the vast majority of the play depicts him as exactly what people in Shakespeare's day thought all Jews were-- greedy, dishonest, obsessed with petty rules, and incapable of compassion. Given that England had long ago banned the Jews from living there unless they converted to Christianity, it's likely that Shakespeare and his audience had never met an actual Jew. But everyone certainly knew the myths about the Jews, and Shylock exemplified every single one.   

As much as I liked several of Shakespeare's other plays ("King Lear" was, and still is, my favorite), the blatantly anti-Jewish stereotypes in "The Merchant of Venice" really bothered me. But what upset me even more was that I was the only one who was bothered. My teacher and everyone else in the class were Christians, and they did not see a problem with the text at all. (Back then, many of those stereotypes were still commonly accepted in the popular culture.)  Thus, when I tried to explain my reaction to the depiction of Shylock, I'm not sure anyone understood why I was upset.

Yes, undoubtedly there have been greedy moneylenders in history, and I cannot deny that some may have been Jewish.  But many others were not: moneylenders have existed in every culture, and no one religion or ethnic group holds a monopoly on this occupation (or on being greedy). What bothered me in high school, and what still bothers me even now, is when someone has behaved in an offensive manner, certain people will immediately claim that ALL members of that group behave that way.  And when you try to defend your particular group, those people will believe the stereotype and say you are just the exception.    

It's easy to generalize about an entire group; it's harder to get to know them as individuals. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen enough:  surveys show that too many of us mainly hang around with people who look like us, believe like us, and even vote like us. No wonder myths and stereotypes persist.  I wish more of us could step back from our preconceived notions, stop misrepresenting each other's views, and make a genuine effort to understand how others see the world. That's probably why I remember that high school incident, and the feeling of not being understood, whenever I'm on social media and someone sends around a meme or a cherry-picked quote intended to show what [pick one] all immigrants, or all African-Americans, or all Muslims, or all Jews are really like.

I see similar generalizations in our politics too: I cannot tell you how many Democrats are firmly convinced that ALL Trump supporters are racists and bigots; and there are just as many Republicans who sincerely believe that ALL Democrats are judgmental hypocrites.  I often get Tweets accusing me of being a "typical liberal" (whatever that means), and I am sure my Republican friends get Tweets accusing them of being "typical conservatives."  And this is where we seem to be-- stuck in our stereotypes, unable (or unwilling) to move beyond them.  I used to be a deejay (and as a professor, I still make my living from talking), yet from what I've seen, I truly believe we could all benefit from listening more and talking less.

Fortunately, I know some people who do listen, who are both inclusive and tolerant.  But I know even more who are quick to dismiss (or mock) anyone whose reaction is different from theirs.  Social media has definitely made it easier to do that, and some of the political rhetoric we hear isn't helping. But if we're living in a culture of stereotype and blame, why be satisfied with it? Shouldn't we want things to change? I may seem naive to suggest this, but I believe we can (and should) improve how we communicate.  It starts with being willing to listen rather than argue.  Given our different backgrounds, I don't expect us to agree on everything; but at least we can try to respect each other, can't we?  So, I invite you to reach out to someone who can offer you an entirely different perspective. It may not be what you're accustomed to, but you may find yourself learning something new.  And if more of us take the time to do that, perhaps society will become a little less polarized than it currently is.