You and me, we are not fighting.

“Our governments are fighting. You and me, we are not fighting.” My spouse Chris and I were crossing the South African border with our 5-year-old child. We were standing in line waiting to get our passports stamped before crossing the Maseru Bridge into Lesotho. Seeing our United States passports, a Black South African border agent said these heartfelt words to us as he was stamping our passports. He pointed to Chris and himself when he said “you and me, we are not fighting.” President Trump had just signed the executive order unjustly accusing the South African government of reverse racism against white South Africans and called violence against white Afrikaner farmers a genocide - one of many executive orders affecting South Africa, but this one was specific to South Africa with acute, unfounded claims. The US government and President Trump’s aggression towards South Africa was all over the South African news. This South African man’s voluntary, impassioned olive branch towards us, his urgent desire to reach across the aisle and build a bridge between us in this short time we had together (mere seconds), immediately filled my heart with hope. It reminded me of our shared humanity across borders at a time when tribal division is being encouraged on a global scale. I don’t know that man’s name, and I will never see him again, but I have thought about his words many times in the last few months as we continue to see fear and othering escalate. “Our government is fighting. You and me, we are not fighting.” I try to think like this as I cross paths with individuals in real life - individuals that don’t look like me or seem to embody politics that I don’t agree with. I think in my mind towards them - “You and me, we are not fighting. Our politicians are fighting.”