Brookings resident Carl Kline is an ordained clergyman, part-time teacher and occasional blogger.

Sometimes The Christian Century will run a series of essays by their readers. The topics are given a few months in advance and readers are invited to submit their essays for publication. The June 2025 magazine had several submissions on the title “Source.” Two of the essays moved me to the point where I wanted to share something of their content.

The first essay described a trip to the Door of No Return in West Africa. This was the point where enslaved people left Africa for the United States. Thousands died in that prison from disease and starvation before they could be shipped. Their bodies were thrown into the ocean around Elmina Castle, home to the Door and a major “source” of the slave trade.

The writer is a member of a multiracial and multigenerational family, making this pilgrimage into the past. The father is black; the daughter is racially mixed and married to an Asian American; the children racially ambiguous. After the tour, as they sat at the beach near the Door of No Return, they were approached by a tour guide. He excused himself and asked if he might know how they were related. When the father explained their family relationship, the guide at first looked troubled. Then slowly he broke into a smile of recognition and proclaimed, “Americans!” “Yes,” they agreed.

For me, this was a wonderful affirmation of our reputation as a country; as a racial and cultural melting pot; or if you prefer, a wonderful stew.

The second essay is written by a woman traveling to Germany for study, who finds herself seated next to a grouchy old man. Feigning sleepiness at first, she is gradually led into a conversation that eventually lasts the whole seven hour trip. Her seat mate has black numbers tattooed on the inside of his wrist. He escaped, with help, from a German concentration camp, where the rest of his family died. When she asks how he has managed to keep it all together, what is his “source” of strength, he says “Assisi.”

He had lived at the Basilica in Assisi for two years, protected by the church, dressed as one of the brothers and silent, so his accent would not be detected. Eventually he made it to the United States where he is a university faculty member. On their parting at the airport, he repeated his source of strength, “Assisi! Assisi is where I met your Prince of Peace.”

I found both these stories heartening! In a time when racism has reared its ugly head again in our country, and people are intent on building walls and fences between races, religions and cultures; some examples of potential human connection shed light on a path forward. Would that all of our young and old could visit with multiracial families and meet Holocaust survivors. Bridges please. Not walls. Bridges!

I realize this is a difficult request in our present situation. So much of the policies of the present administration are predicated on racism, sexism and Christian Nationalism; it is difficult to find racial, cultural and religious bridges in the headlines. Instead, we are treated daily to racial exclusion, deportation, defunding of anything helping immigrants, and rants about the criminality of people simply seeking safety. The recent presidential rant about the Supreme Court decision requiring court appearances before deportation is exemplary. There is no rationality to it, only vituperation.

Under this administration if you are an international student without a white face or a Christian background, you can be apprehended off the street and imprisoned or deported. And unless you are a white “refugee,” fleeing black rule in South Africa, you are not welcome here.

It is especially troubling to realize much of the Christian community is supportive of these racist policies. I assume if they believe in the Second Coming, Jesus will return with a white face and an American flag!

A “source” for me was the Christian faith, a gift of my parents and our family life. That early upbringing was racially inclusive, and I decided in later life, it would also be religiously inclusive. The more I learned of other traditions, the more I appreciated and respected them.

Do you seek a Door of No Return in your family history? Do you know someone with black letters tattooed on their wrist? What is a “source” for you? Where is your essay?