A Blessing in Unity: The Need for Support (Not Hostility) Toward Refugees

“Imagine a painting in just one color — white. Imagine a piece of music with just one note.” — Kara

(Note: The names of refugee and immigrant women in this story have been changed to protect their identities.)

Belonging.

It is a word that comes up again and again in conversation with the refugee women gathered at Treetops Collective in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It is spoken in almost a reverent whisper, as if imbued with a sense of the sacred.

“These are women who are looking for a new home, a safe home,” says Kara Kurczeski, communications manager at Treetops Collective. “They hope to find a place where they feel like they belong.”

Treetops Collective: A Community for Belonging

Entering the Treetops Collective building, one immediately feels a warm welcome. A colorful mural across the side of the building shows the bright faces of women from various countries and ethnic and racial backgrounds. A sign at the door reads: “You are welcome here.”

As you enter, on one side, a small store space offers gifts made by the women. A row of sewing machines hum as they sew shirts, handbags, and decorations to fill the shelves. On the other side, an elegant café space is filled with tables, sofas, a coffee bar well-stocked with international fare. Behind these rooms are offices, conference and event spaces, meditation and prayer rooms, and even a daycare room.

These rooms, Kurczeski says, were decorated by a refugee couple from Bosnia, adding, “Upstairs we have six apartments. All rented to refugees, but one always kept open for emergencies.”

Treetops Collective is a nonprofit organization, a cross-cultural movement that invests in what they term New American (refugee) women leaders, transforming communities into places of belonging. The organization was established in 2016 by Tarah Carnahan after realizing how intense the need was for a safe, inclusive community for immigrants and refugees in the area.

The Role of Faith in Belonging

There is a clear sense of success in Treetop’s mission. Cheerful women mingle throughout, buoyed by more than the comfort of a safe space. They are inspired by a deeper sense of community and conviction — one that comes from the infusion of the Sacred into the community-building process.

G. circulates the event space, her smile bright. She is one of the most recent immigrants, arriving from Cuba in 2024.

“My journey was driven by a desire to find better opportunities and a more stable future for my family and me,” she says. “Adjusting to a new country wasn’t easy, but along the way I’ve found support in communities like Treetops Collective, which have made my process much more bearable.”

G. now leads a group of Cuban women at Treetops, providing support and connecting them with resources that facilitate their integration. Her faith in God, she says, guides her every step. “God always accompanies me and gives me strength to move forward. I believe that through God we understand what love and service to others really means. There is no greater example of help and connection than the one He has given us.

“In my work at Treetops Collective, I see faith manifest in the love and support we provide to immigrant women. I am inspired to accompany them, listen to them and help them feel part of the community, just as God teaches us to walk together and support each other. For me, serving others is a way to reflect their love and to live with purpose.”

G. acknowledges that the women at Treetops Collective come from a variety of faiths and cultural beliefs, each holding their own, yet all here come together with a mutual respect and a spiritual bond that grows out of their different faiths.

The Spiritual and Emotional Divide of Stereotyping Immigrants

At a table in a separate room, three women are seated, eager to share their stories — and their fears. S. from Somalia, now a concentric manager at Treetops, and N., a community leader from Afghanistan, both wear hijabs. T., a concentric leader from Venezuela, long blonde hair draped over her shoulders, is first to speak up. “My husband and I visited family in Grand Rapids in 2017. The violence back home was bad then, and it only got worse over that time. We decided to apply for asylum while we were here.”

S. and her husband currently have a green card application pending, but both are working in the community. She teaches yoga and meditation.

S. points out that in their shared community, even though the faith beliefs held by women from varied cultures could differ, their shared spirituality was born of similar experiences of persecution in their home countries. It bonds women from across the globe so that all find a sense of belonging.

“I felt that our being here, staying here, was God’s plan for us,” she says. And it was the shared spirituality of wanting to find a safe and welcoming home that strengthened their bonds when they arrived here.”

The Refugee Struggle — and Need for Support

S. bristles at the thought that there are some in the United States who portray all Venezuelan immigrants as criminals, gang members, or fresh out of insane asylums.

“Of course, there are some bad people,” she nods. “There are bad people in every country. But Grand Rapids has one of the largest Venezuelan immigrant communities, and we are good people. We are educated, we work hard, and we want to be a part of this community.”

It is when N. begins to tell her story that all the women at the table tear up. As with many Afghan refugee stories, hers connects with working alongside the United States military and with USAID, an organization that has been greatly reduced by the current administration.

“I worked for women’s rights, and so when the Taliban came in, our lives were in great danger,” she says, her voice wavering. “It was all very sudden. There was no time to prepare. We were warned that the Taliban was just down the street, so my family had to leave right away.”

Grabbing up her two small children, N. and her family made their way to the airport.

Even as the plane lifted off, she had no idea where it would land. Eventually, the family arrived in Grand Rapids, where they applied for asylum. At long last, even when initially homeless and without any funds, they felt safe.

“All happens as Allah wishes, and we trust in that,” N. says. “We found help at Treetops. Treetops helped us feel safe, but now we don’t feel safe anymore as we hear about the immigrant and refugee deportations. I don’t know how we could go through that again. I teach my children to respect all others, no matter who they are and what their beliefs, but they are still traumatized.”

Community support, N. says, is crucial to maintaining her family’s sense of safety in their new home. While they feel safe at Treetops Collective, her family longs to feel that same safety in their community and in their new homeland.

S. trembles as she listens to the story of the woman alongside her. She came to the United States in 2001 from Somalia as a 9-year-old girl.

“When I think of my home country, I get very emotional and very upset,” she says. “The colonization caused division among the population. But when I came here in 2001, it was a bad time to be here. I was attacked for my faith — I am a Muslim. That’s an identity that I couldn’t hide. Anytime anyone else did something wrong, it became a burden I, too, had to carry.”

The Need for Interfaith Acceptance and Belonging With Refugees

N. wrote a short essay to share with her Treetop group, called Belonging. In it, she writes: “Imagine or remember leaving behind everything you know — your country, your home, your neighbors, and even your mother tongue. You arrive in a new place, hoping to find a sense of belonging. But instead, you’re labeled as an alien … This is a painful experience to be caught between two worlds, feeling lost and looking for acceptance. Let us come together and reunite, embracing our differences. There is a blessing in unity.”

N. says she experienced being treated as a terrorist. She was told she was “one of the bad guys,” and that God was punishing the Muslim nation.

“I urge people to not label us. Don’t label people,” she says. “That is what divides us. That prevents us from understanding each other. I could label America in so many ways, but I will never call anyone the bad guy.”

To welcome the stranger is to welcome spiritual blessings upon the self. It is a circle of wellness. Pope Francis reminded us shortly before his passing: “Rivers do not drink their own water; trees do not eat their own fruit; the sun does not shine on itself and flowers do not spread their fragrance for themselves. Living for others is a rule of nature. We are all born to help each other. No matter how difficult it is … Life is good when you are happy; but much better when others are happy because of you.”

“There’s compelling evidence that kindness is linked with a number of aspects of health and well-being,” Tyler VanderWeele, co-director of the Initiative on Health, Spirituality, and Religion at the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health, says. “Some studies have indicated it can improve happiness and a sense of engagement with life, reduce symptoms of anxiety, and increase a sense of social connectedness.”

This philosophy of kindness, living for others, and building welcoming communities runs parallel to many political ideologies of the day. And yet, cases like Treetops Collective show how powerful a spiritually centered approach can be in bridging gaps and overcoming differences. It allows us to see the value in one another and have empathy for our trials and tribulations.

Even as this approach is rejected by politicians of the present, faith-based groups like Treetop are showing the power that comes from encouraging and accepting others. It is a beacon of light and a critical lesson in a world where so many of us are still learning how to see and care for others.

By Zinta Aistars