“Not My Sisters”

As of February 2016, over 250,000 Syrians have been killed. Approximately 13.5 million

refugees are in need of urgent humanitarian assistance. 86% of Syrian refugees residing in Jordan

are living beneath the poverty line. More than 50% of Syria’s total population has been displaced

in the surrounding countries of Lebanon, Turkey, Iraq, and Egypt.

250,000…13.5 million…86%….50%…

These are just a few culminations of numbers and statistics that can’t even begin to surmount to

the atrocities and inhuman acts of terror inflicted upon the Yizidi and Christian demographics in

Syria and Iraq by the extremist group ISIS.

Because, you see, the problem with numbers and facts and percentages is that they don’t translate

in ways that can be communicated to the human heart. They are cold, unfeeling, and impartial;

they turn voices into decimal points and lost lives into mere tally marks.

Numbers can’t possibly tell the stories of the hundreds and thousands of traumatized survivors

who have witnessed the brutal massacre of family and friends. Numbers cannot even begin to

convey the psychological harm of young girls who have been mercilessly raped and tortured by

ISIS militants. Numbers fall fatally short of fully embodying the grief and agony experienced by

mothers and fathers whose children were delivered to them dismembered and in body bags.

This is the danger of numbers. We grow indifferent to them. And as the voices of the victims are

drowned out by mere statistics on the news, we find it much easier to turn a blind eye to

desperate cries for help. Human suffering has been reduced to a percentage that we can briefly

lament for a minute or two before returning to our daily lives. As a result, the pleas for

humanitarian aid from minority groups in Syria and Iraq are falling upon deaf ears.

I, like many others, have fallen victim to this trap of half-hearted sympathy, in which the

numbers and the facts and the statistics that I witness can all be erased with a click of the remote

or a turn of a page. The reality is, there are girls like me – bright, energetic, and talented teenage

girls – who happen to have been dealt the unfortunate card of living in a country that is intolerant

of their faith. And, while it scares me to admit, the truth is that it could have been me. I could be

the girl trekking across unfamiliar terrain, desperately seeking asylum in refugee camps, I could

be the girl who has suddenly found herself orphaned, whose family has been shot and killed

before her eyes, and I could be the girl who has to endure the psychological and emotional

repercussions of having been tortured or raped by ISIS. And yet, I am blessed to live in a country

where I am free to practice my faith, to have an education, and a career, and a future.

I do not live in fear. My Syrian and Iraqi sisters, however, are not so lucky.

In moments like these, I can’t help but notice the glaringly obvious unfairness of it all. Why

should I be so blessed to live a life devoid of terror and oppression while girls just like me cannot

enjoy this same luxury? And yet, there are two ways of looking at the situation: either we can

wallow in the guilt and shame of having been privileged with a safe and affluent life, or we can

take advantage of this power and this privilege to make a difference and do something about it.

It is time that we stop invalidating the suffering and dehumanization of Christians, Yizidis, and

Muslims in Syria and Iraq by compressing their lives into mere numbers on a television screen or

newspaper. We would do well to remember that these people are more than just statistics. They

are human beings: mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons, and daughters. Their voices and their

stories need to be heard. But what’s more, they must be met with a response. And, unfortunately,

as a nation we seem unable to provide the necessary response.

In a current poll conducted by Gallup, it was discovered that 60% of Americans were opposed to

accepting Syrian refugees into the country. Thinking about the torture these people have had to

endure, as well as the obvious military and humanitarian aid that they need, one has to wonder:

why is that? Why can we not accept them? Why are we not doing everything in our power to

help those in need? What happened to loving our neighbors as ourselves?

But the answer is obvious: fear.

Recently, a radical epidemic of fear and xenophobia has been poisoning our ability to feel

compassion and empathy for these people, all the while letting politicians and media sources and

our own human prejudices sit back and fan the flames of our hatred and bigotry. Hate breeds

hate, fear breeds fear. And as a result of this fear and hatred, we allow innocent, victimized

people to fend for themselves. An injustice such as the murder, rape, and torture of human beings

would never be tolerated here in the United States, so why are we tolerating such atrocities in

Syria?

I might be one of the few, but I believe that the Syrian refugees are our brothers and sisters, and

we have been called to love them as such. I would not stand for the harm of my biological sister,

so I will not stand for the harm of my sisters who live thousands of miles away in Syria and Iraq.

I’ve never met them, I don’t know their names, and I could not even begin to identify with their

struggles, but that doesn’t make their suffering any less real. They are my sisters, regardless, and

I will do everything in my – albeit limited – scope of power to help them, to tell their stories, and

let them actually be heard.

It is time that we practice what we preach by putting love and compassion into action. We cannot

stand by as their lives are dehumanized into numbers and facts. We cannot stand by as the Syrian

refugees are grossly represented as radical Islamists, deserving of our hate and bigotry. We need

to remember who our neighbors are and how we have been called upon to love them.

Elie Weisel, Holocaust survivor and award-winning author, once said, “I swore never to be silent

whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take

sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormenter, never

the tormented.”

If we do not act, if we remain silent, if we refuse to respond to the deafening pleas for love and

care and help, then we are no better than ISIS. We have the amazing opportunity to be

difference-makers. Organizations and nonprofit charities around the world are providing

assistance in any way they can, from medical supplies to clothing to psychiatric aid. Countries

such as Germany, Canada, Turkey, and Lebanon have opened their doors to receive hundreds of

thousands of refugees and survivors, supplying them with security and hope for a better future.

Good can be done because it already has been done. The responsibility now falls on us to do our

part for our fellow brothers and sisters. Innocent people are asking for help. Let’s answer.

You can join the efforts of Roads of Success and their fight for minority and women’s rights by

contributing to Tech Over Trauma (TOT), a program that offers aid to young women who have

been psychologically damaged from extreme cases of ISIS’ sexual assault and captivity by

providing phones and iPads for the women to speak with psychologists and doctors abroad, and

to receive the care and attention they need. The goal of Tech Over Trauma is to empower women

through creativity, self-development, confidence, and counseling so that their voices might be

heard. Roads of Success is currently accepting financial donations for TOT, as well as

contributions of unlocked smartphones and laptops for correspondence between the women and

their counselors. ROS is in need of professional mentors who are willing and qualified to help

these refugees. If you or someone else you know is interested in donating, please contact us.