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Liberty and Justice for All: A Citizenship Story

Liberty and Justice for All: A Citizenship Story

On September 17, U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services invites “Americans to reflect on the rights and responsibilities of citizenship and what it means to be a U.S. citizen” as part of an annual Citizenship Day observance. This year, we’re celebrating citizenship and the stability it can bring to those who have been displaced by sharing Aimee’s story. 

For the first 24 years of her life, Aimee had no citizenship at all. Born as a refugee in the Republic of Congo and resettled in the U.S. at the age of 15, living without citizenship felt like a continual search for permanence — until July 2, 2022 when she became a naturalized U.S. citizen. Finally, Aimee has a country to call her own!

On the World Relief Western Washington blog, Aimee shares what citizenship means to her and how she plans to use her new nationality to continue serving displaced people around the world.


Do you want to help more people like Aimee Pave the Path to a brighter, more secure future? Whether helping displaced people rebuild their lives, building peace in divided communities or finding sustainable solutions for families impacted by climate change, you can be a part of creating lasting change around the world when you join The Path, our community of monthly givers. 

Loving Your Neighbor is a Key Part of Being a Good Citizen

Loving Your Neighbor is a Key Part of Being a Good Citizen

On September 17th, U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services invites “Americans to reflect on the rights and responsibilities of citizenship and what it means to be a U.S. citizen.” 

Today, on Citizenship Day, World Relief’s Karen Spencer, who recently became a U.S. citizen herself, reflects on what her journey to citizenship has taught her about loving our neighbors and being a good citizen. 


My Story

Growing up in a small city in central Canada, I was surrounded by immigrant families who openly shared stories of endurance and escape, now embraced by a new country to call home. These families immigrated from places like Ukraine, Hungary, Poland, Chile and Vietnam.  

Most of my classmates were first or second-generation Canadians whose parents or grandparents warmly welcomed me into their homes, sharing interesting foods before sending me off with well-wishes in varying languages or accents. 

As a second-generation Canadian myself, I clung to the tidbits of my Scottish, French and British family histories that I caught from conversations and scrapbooks. The movement of people fascinated me, so it wasn’t a surprise that I looked beyond my own country as a young adult to study in the United States. What I did not expect, however, was to fall in love with an American, marry and become an immigrant myself! 


Becoming a Citizen

A few years ago, I worked with a World Relief Immigration Legal Specialist to pursue naturalization. Throughout the process, I was impressed by the expectation for me to have already displayed certain characteristics of citizenship: good moral character, adhering to the law and demonstrated service in my community. 

But what intrigued me, however,  was how community awareness and action were also strongly emphasized as required responsibilities for me and my fellow new citizens. 

Beyond the application process itself, the naturalization ceremony emphasized giving back to our new country through acts of service. Various organizations had set up booths in a type of information fair to help us immediately find ways to serve the community. The definition of citizenship as the qualities that a person is expected to have as a responsible member of a community, was on full display. 

This experience left me to wonder, do most other Americans realize this moral obligation as citizens? Or do many consider this responsibility to only apply collectively rather than personally? 

Moreover, my faith compelled me to think even deeper — could it be that God’s call for me to love my neighbor is a key part of being a good citizen?


An Unsettling Reality

Lately, I have felt unsettled as I’ve watched the news and considered all the events that have forcibly displaced so many women, men and children from their homes: fires, floods, hurricanes, famine, political uprisings, war. 

More than 82 million people currently live their lives displaced from their homes — some have been temporarily internally displaced, like those in Louisiana affected by Hurricane Ida’s devastating floods, or those in Haiti affected by the recent earthquake that happened in August. 

Others have been evacuated from their countries on military planes as we witnessed in Afghanistan. Even more walk or run to the borders of neighboring countries for shelter in temporary refugee camps, wanting to return home, but most often left stateless for years, as fewer than one percent are invited for permanent resettlement in a third country — hopes and dreams are put on hold as the basic need for survival and safety dominate decisions. 

If you’re like me, all of this can feel overwhelming, leaving you at a loss of what to do or how to help. 

But as both an immigrant and naturalized citizen, I have learned that you and I hold a unique position of power, influence and responsibility, both as individuals and collectively. We can make a difference in the lives of our neighbors near and far, and as citizens of the United States, we have both a right and responsibility to do so.


From Awareness to Action

For most of my adult life, I have prayerfully discerned and sought out opportunities to love my neighbors next door, across town and around the world. But it wasn’t until I came to World Relief that I found my way and my voice as both an immigrant and naturalized citizen, to move from awareness to action — specifically when it came to meeting the needs of my immigrant neighbors and people forcibly displaced. 

What I love most about my work at World Relief is that I get to invite others to join me. You and I don’t have to be stuck, distraught by the headlines. With World Relief, we can move to meaningful love-in-action through advocacy, giving financially and relationally welcoming and walking alongside our newest neighbors. 

Beyond all of the ways to do this with World Relief, each of us can start by recognizing that our neighbors near and far are image-bearers of God. We can look people in the eye with care and concern, truly seeing them and their situation and recognizing without judgment that we might be in a position to help. 

Individually, we can pray about what God is inviting us to do personally, or who He is inviting us to befriend, showing love in word and deed. Whether it’s joining a World Relief Good Neighbor Team, volunteering at a local library or preparing a meal for your neighbor whose spouse is going through cancer treatment, there are limitless opportunities for us to love our neighbor as Jesus so beautifully lived out throughout scripture.

On Citizenship Day, and every day, let’s demonstrate true citizenship by actively loving and welcoming our neighbors, together. 




Karen Spencer is World Relief’s U.S. Marketing Partner and serves U.S. offices in the area of identity and messaging. She previously served as Mobilization Director for World Relief in Memphis, where she lives. She is a connector of people, places, passions and purpose.

Reflections on Belonging

 photo credit: Rebecca Bustamante

photo credit: Rebecca Bustamante

My heart is heavy for my country, the place I call home.
I’ve often wondered, where do I fit in?
Am I wanted here?
Do I even belong?

I’ve been plagued by these questions for most of my life. Though, it was only recently that I decided to engage them. As a Hispanic-American woman, the answers rarely seem straightforward, yet I feel a growing tension that I really need to get them right.  

Just the other day, for example, I went to make a payment on my credit card. I received a pop-up message that I had never seen before.  

“We need to verify your information,” it said. “Are you a U.S. citizen?” 

A yes or no checkbox was located beside the question. I browsed the screen, looking for a way to opt-out, when I saw the notice: failure to answer this question could lead to my account being limited.

A flood of emotions consumed me — sadness, anger, frustration. 
Was this question legal?
Why now after being a cardmember for so many years?
Are they asking every cardmember for this information, or just those with Hispanic sounding names?
Are they asking me because my last name is Lopez?

Experiences like this often send me spinning. But I’m learning to take comfort in the knowledge that my identity is in Christ.

You see, I was born in Chicago, on the Southwest side to be exact. My father is Mexican/Puerto Rican, and my mother is Puerto Rican. I’m proud of my heritage. The more I learn about my familial history the more grateful I become. My ancestors made so many sacrifices so I can live the life I have today. 

My paternal grandmother’s entire family crossed the border together when she was just a toddler. As a kid, she had a knack for making things and finding items to sell. My dad once told me he was really inspired by the way his mother could figure out creative ways to make money for the family. He said I reminded him of her because I own a small, creative business. I had always wondered where my creative business skillset came from, and now I know.

My maternal grandparents moved to the United States in their adulthood, in pursuit of a better life just after my grandfather served in the war. I’m still not sure whether he served in WWII or the Korean War. He was too traumatized to ever talk about it. But I do know that Puerto Rico has a long history of serving in the U.S. military. WWII and the Korean War each saw around 60,000 Puerto Ricans fighting alongside the American military, my grandfather being one of them. 

He had dreams of working in the chemistry field, and my grandmother dreamed of being a model. Both ended up working in factories, as did my mom. I am the first daughter in the family to graduate from college. I have the freedom to be my own boss, something my maternal grandparents never had the opportunity to do.  

I sit in the tension of my privilege as a 3rd generation Latina whose first language is English. I struggle to speak Spanish fluently, which leaves me feeling isolated in some Latino circles. I’ve longed to connect with the parts of me that feel so foreign. Assimilation is real, and the pressure to fit into American culture often results in denying one’s cultural heritage. 

Finding freedom in my cultural identity, in its totality, has been a journey. It’s been filled with therapy, processing with my close friends and partnering with Jesus to discover the truth of who I am. I heard once at a conference that your culture isn’t a curse, it’s a blessing. Who I am and where I belong isn’t dictated by what others say about me or who they say I am. I am a child of God, and my cultural identity matters to Him. My skin matters to Him, and my native tongue matters to Him. I belong here, and my voice matters.

I think, at our core, we all long to belong. Yet fear tends to divide us. It draws lines and forces us to pick sides. It’s “us versus them”, and those of us with a multicultural identity get caught in the crossfire. Am I Mexican? Am I Puerto Rican? Or am I American? The answer is I am all of it. I am proud of who I am and I am proud of where I came from.  I’m proud of this country where I live and I am grateful to call it home.

I have high hopes for our nation and the place we can become. I see a nation that moves forward in love rather than fear, that celebrates diversity rather than denies it. I want our country to be a place of belonging, where people can thrive — people who look like me and people who don’t.


Jasmine Lopez is the founder of The Firehouse Dream, a creative arts healing center located in Maywood, IL. She is passionate about being rooted in our God-given identities and believes everyone’s story matters. She is a mental health advocate and shares her story in hopes of inspiring and encouraging others. Jasmine has been married to her high school sweetheart for 13 years and they have 3 girls: Dakota, Savannah and Emery. Together, they love dance parties, having fun and going to theme parks.

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