Why Borderlands
Life is full of borders. There are geographic lines on maps and barbed wire fences between countries, but there are also divisions between ideas, religion, politics, and culture. These spaces are all borderlands.
Sometimes borders are like the 49th parallel, a highly fortified area separating the two Koreas–mined with missiles and weapons. Some are like the empty border station between Austria and Germany, only recognizable by the sign reminding you to buy the Austrian road vignette. Or the paradoxical US-Mexico border, which despite walls and border guards, continues to be especially porous.
Just as geographic borders are diverse — so too are the borders between ideas, religion, politics, and cultures. Some are silent, each side fearful of making the wrong move. Some are mired with resentment or jealousy toward the otherside. While others seem placid in their invisibility but, given the opportunity, will raise barriers all the same.
How can we navigate a fractured world? How can we enter the borderlands without losing our identity? How can we talk to those who are different without firing missiles or stepping on landmines? How can we live in a space between ideas without forgetting our personal beliefs or identity?
Or has globalization in a polarized world made this all inevitable?
Stepping into discomfort
As society fractures and our circles become increasingly homogenous — the forced experience of confronting another culture, language, or identity is uncomfortably significant. Borderlands offer a wealth of knowledge. The stories of those who successfully bridge the chasms and communicate with both sides without losing their identity, offer us a road map for building a way forward.
I have lived in many borderlands. As an American living in Asia and Europe, while working in international development, and while studying the complexities of borderland history.
Borderland areas are not comfortable. Growth is not comfortable. Being in an uncharted place requires adapting and learning. Yet the experience is invaluable because it allows for listening, learning, and challenging our ideas. It forces us to learn new things–a new language, new ideas, different perspectives, and a deeper understanding of what it is to be human.
When we step out of our familiar comfort zone and willingly engage with ideas that are different from our own, merely with the intention of listening and learning, we are navigating the borderland.
Not all who wander are lost
Will we lose ourselves in the process? Once we have entered a new space, can we ever go back? A friend once told me that after you live away from your home country for more than ten years, you can only ever return as a foreigner — you’ve changed too much.
I joked she was two months too late for me. Remembering our identity and staying grounded in who we are–while engaging with those who are different is a quintessential element of successful navigation.
My parent’s dog Jack has a collar that reads, “not all who wander are lost, but I am”. Not all who wander are lost–but many of us are. We are lost in our foundational identity, the direction we want to go, and how we can return. So how do wandering and navigating differ?
Placing our pin on the map
Having a back pocket map — feeling grounded in your identity is your compass. It is like looking at a map and seeing the giant red dot that says, “You are here.” When we know where we are, we can effectively read the map and navigate our way forward. When we are grounded in who we are, we are more willing to let others be themselves. We don’t require external ideas or comments to build our personal views. Instead, we can move forward confidently, building up others along our way.
Dr. Edith Eva Egar received two beautiful insights as a young girl that tethered her to the concept of internal identity. One day in ballet class, her teacher remarked, ‘All the ecstasy you will have in life will come from within.’ On the road to Auschwitz, her mother taught her, ‘We don’t know where we are going, we don’t know what’s going to happen, but no one can take away from you what you put in your mind.’ The realization that joy and choice are internal–not passive reactions to our experiences–is fundamental in creating an internal identity.
When we know ourselves, we can encounter withstand challenges. We can build bridges instead of walls. We can lean forward and listen–without falling into the chasm. We can change our minds. We can learn new things. We can hear ideas and choose whether or not to believe them — because we know which way is north.
Borders change, and so can we
Borders have a fluidity that we do not always remember. Poland, a country with roots back to before 1000, was partitioned off the map by its neighbors in the 1700s. It didn’t return to the European map until after the first world war.
The Kingdom of Prussia existed for nearly 200 years before it disappeared from Europe. While many geographic borders are drawn following conflict–the victors making the maps–some regions have not yet molded to their ‘new’ national identity. The Karin Tribe in Myanmar continues to live much as it has for centuries, despite the violent changes in national politics.
Be willing to grow.
Be willing to learn the language.
Be willing to talk to those who are different from you.
Be willing to listen amidst discomfort.
Be willing to find common ground.
And be willing to return home, different than when you set off.
